Douluo Continent: Tonight, a Fairy Tale Descends

“Respect the gods and examine them,” Eva continued.

"Homage to those blind gods who refuse to knock on the door."

As soon as they finished speaking, the two looked at each other and smiled. In that smile, there was a hint of mutual appreciation, a hint of unspoken understanding, and a hint of tacit understanding that they themselves were unaware of, which had been cultivated over a long period of strategic maneuvering.

Ge Duo tilted her head back and drank the rest of the tea in one gulp, her manner more like drinking a farewell toast than savoring tea.

Eva also picked up her glass, slowly drank the last sip, and then put it down.

Rapunzel stood aside and silently stepped forward to put the two empty porcelain cups back into the tray.

She looked at the two women. One was leaning back in a rattan chair, looking languid, yet exuding the oppressive aura of a titled Douluo. The other was sitting on a stone bench with her legs crossed, yet she looked more like a ruler than any emperor.

Rapunzel suddenly felt a little dazed.

She used to think that the relationship between Godot and Eva was strange.

They're not really friends; every time they meet, it's like a battle of wits, neither willing to give an inch.

They are enemies, but they have never truly been adversaries. At the most crucial moments, they always stand on the same side in perfect harmony.

But now she understands. These two are the real allies.

It wasn't because of trust or feelings, but because they were so alike.

It's like they both know each other's bottom lines, like they can guess each other's next move without needing any unnecessary words. This kind of alliance is more reliable than any written contract.

Eva stood up, put her cloak back on, leaving the hood undone behind her head. She took a few steps toward the valley entrance, then stopped and looked back.

"Don't keep me waiting too long."

"I know." Ge Duo didn't even lift her eyelids, and lazily tapped her fingers twice on the armrest of the wicker chair.

Eva's lips curled slightly as she turned and walked towards the poisonous miasma. Her dark green figure was quickly swallowed up by the surging, multicolored poisonous fog, and her footsteps grew fainter and fainter until they finally disappeared completely in the direction of the valley entrance.

Rapunzel stood there, tray in hand, watching the direction Eva had disappeared in. She glanced at Godfrey, who was reclining in a wicker chair with her eyes closed, and whispered, "Teacher, Mrs. Eva, she..."

"Don't ask," Ge Duo interrupted her, her eyes still closed. "You wouldn't understand even if I asked."

Rapunzel obediently shut her mouth, picked up the tray, and tiptoed back to the Crystal House.

Godo leaned back in the wicker chair alone, her eyes closed, her fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest.

After a long while, she opened her eyes, her eerie green pupils staring at the sky above her, which was dyed red and blue by the mist of the Yin-Yang Eye of Ice and Fire, and a slow smile curved her lips.

"Blind god... Hmph."

……

The City of Slaughter.

The end of the road to hell.

Tang San stood in front of the oval-shaped white light screen, his black outfit, which he had brought from the City of Slaughter, was already soaked in blood.

Layers upon layers of dark red covered the black fabric, which became stiff and hard after drying, like wearing a layer of armor formed from congealed blood scabs.

He casually tucked the short sword he had brought from the road to hell into his waistband and looked up at the white light curtain in front of him.

"Sister." His voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible, his lips were cracked, and each word he uttered sounded like sandpaper rubbing against his throat. But he still spoke, as if confirming something with himself, or as if conversing with some being in the void.

"I can finally see you again."

He took a deep breath and leaped.

The moment my body passed through that light barrier, everything around me changed.

The darkness receded, replaced by a vast, white void. There was no up or down, no left or right, no reference points; it was as if an invisible hand had pressed the delete key on the entire world, leaving only boundless whiteness.

Tang San subconsciously wanted to release the Blue Silver Grass, but as soon as his soul power surged out, it was forcibly suppressed back into his body by a special force.

The blue silver grass peeked out from under the skin less than half an inch before being forced back, as if something had choked it.

He looked down at his hands, unable to muster any strength. The only sensation he felt was coldness.

It wasn't the temperature that was cold, but the murderous aura.

The purest killing intent, like countless fine ice needles, surged in from all directions, piercing his skin, penetrating his bone marrow, and seeping into his soul. Cold, so cold that even his bones trembled.

Tang San gritted his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead. He had experienced a hundred life-or-death battles in the Hell Slaughter Arena and endured countless perils on the Hell Road, thinking he had become accustomed to killing and immune to fear.

But only now did he realize that those were all just superficial things.

The essence of killing is not bloodshed or brutality, but a pure, cold, emotionless nothingness.

Just like this white space, there's nothing there but killing.

He felt as if he had been ripped open alive, the chilling killing intent rampaging through his body, frantically assaulting every inch of his meridians and every cell, while simultaneously tempering his body in an extremely violent way.

It's like forging a sword. First, you heat the iron until it's red-hot, then you hammer it away, one stroke at a time, to remove the impurities and bring out the sharp edge.

Pain. Extreme pain.

Tang San's consciousness floated and sank in this white void, unable to discern how much time had passed. Perhaps it was a moment, perhaps it was eternity.

When he awoke from his pain, he found himself lying in a patch of blue silver grass.

These were not ordinary Blue Silver Grass. The leaves were much larger than those of ordinary Blue Silver Grass, each leaf shimmering with a pale blue light, transmitting a faint warmth into his body.

The feeling was wonderful, like someone gently brushing his meridians with soft feathers, gradually dispelling the lingering coldness and murderous aura, or like soaking in warm water, with warmth enveloping his entire body.

All the pain disappeared, replaced by an extremely pleasant feeling.

The familiar fluctuations of soul power once again permeated his body, and every cell was spinning joyfully, as if celebrating his return alive to this blue silver grass.

Tang San slowly opened his eyes.

Above them was an unfamiliar sky, devoid of the eternal purple moon of the Killing City, only a normal sun hanging in the azure firmament.

He propped himself up on the ground, the blue silver grass swaying gently beneath him, conveying an intimate and nurturing feeling.

Then he looked down and saw his left hand. The Haotian Hammer lay quietly in his palm.

At the tip of the hammer, a white pattern appeared. The pattern was not large, as if it had been engraved with extremely fine brushstrokes, and its shape resembled some kind of ancient rune, or a sword shrunk to its smallest size.

Tang San used his mental power to touch the white patterns. In an instant, a surge of white light was released from the Clear Sky Hammer.

The light was so bright that the surrounding blue silver grass bowed its leaves as if in submission to this power.

But soon, the white light receded like the tide, turning colorless.

Colorless, yet omnipresent.

Tang San closed his eyes and clearly sensed an invisible current spreading outwards from him in all directions.

The blue silver grass that had been swaying affectionately towards him began to tremble violently the moment it came into contact with the invisible energy around him.

It wasn't intimacy, it was fear.

He knew instantly.

This is the domain of the God of Slaughter.

This is the Killing God Domain that Tang Hao spoke of. It's a domain ability that only those who have traversed the Hell Road are qualified to obtain, and it's the most core inheritance of the Slaughter City.

Within this domain, the opponent's soul power and mental power will be suppressed, while their attack power will be significantly amplified.

The more blood is shed, the stronger the domain becomes; the more battles are fought, the sharper the edge becomes.

Tang San opened his eyes, not continuing to experience the characteristics of the Killing God Domain. He had no interest in studying these things right now.

His gaze swept quickly across the surroundings. Blue silver grass, bushes, and a sparse grove of trees in the distance. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

The air was clean, carrying the scent of grass and earth, a stark contrast to the murky, blood-soaked air of the Killing City.

But Tang San didn't care about any of that.

He was looking for Tang Hao and Cinderella.

Tang Hao had said that once he survived the City of Slaughter, he and Cinderella would come to pick him up. But in this patch of blue silver grass, he was all alone.

Tang San did not see Tang Hao.

Cinderella was not seen either.

His expression instantly turned cold. A complex mix of emotions surged within his deep eyes: doubt, unease, and a burning, molten anger suppressed beneath his icy surface.

Tang Hao lied to him?

He had promised to see his sister as soon as he left the City of Slaughter, and he had promised that Cindy would come with him to pick him up.

But now, he stood in a desolate wilderness, surrounded only by endless wild grass and wildflowers, without a single person in sight.

Tang San slowly clenched his fist, and the Blue Silver Grass slid off his body. His movements were slow; his body had not yet fully recovered from the tempering of the God of Slaughter Domain, but his eyes had regained the cold, undisturbed calm they had displayed in the Hell Slaughter Arena.

He walked forward.

The blue silver grass beneath his feet automatically parted to make way for him.

Emerging from the blue-silver grass and passing through the sparse woods, a bumpy dirt road lay before us.

The road was narrow, barely wide enough for two carriages to pass side by side. The gravel on the road had been crushed into pieces by the wheels of passing vehicles, and a few clumps of withered yellow grass stubbornly sprouted from the cracks in the gravel, shivering in the wind.

Tang San stood by the roadside and glanced up at the sun. It was midday, and the sunlight was pouring down from above, making the pebbles on the road gleam white.

The bloodstains on his body, dried in the sun, and the stiff fabric of his clothes rubbed uncomfortablely against his skin. He needed to find a place to wash up, change his clothes, and then go find Tang Hao.

No, find Cinderella first.

Just as he was about to take a step, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a figure leaning against a rock about half a person's height by the roadside. The person was dressed in a black, close-fitting outfit.

But Tang San could tell at a glance that he was no ordinary person, but a Soul Master with considerable strength.

The Soul Master was in his early thirties, lean and wiry with high cheekbones and small but piercing eyes.

He leaned against a rock, clutching a water pouch in his hand, taking sips of water intermittently, his gaze constantly drifting towards the blue silver grass.

His posture seemed casual, but Tang San could tell from his breathing rhythm and the tension in his muscles that he was not weak.

The moment their eyes met, the Soul Master's eyes lit up. He practically sprang to his feet, casually shoved the water pouch behind his back, and strode to Tang San's side in a few steps. His movements were swift, yet his footsteps were light, landing almost silently.

He stopped three steps away from Tang San, a distance that showed he meant no harm without offending the other party.

His gaze lingered for several seconds on Tang San's blood-soaked, armor-like black outfit before he looked away.

"Are you... Tang San?" he asked tentatively.

Tang San did not answer. He merely gave the man a cold glance.