The Extreme North City was quite bustling. Perhaps it was because he had been constantly engaged in battles and comprehending the essence of his bloodline, but this time, Chen Xiaoming finally had a rare chance to relax. He ended up staying in the Extreme North City for nearly half a month.
During these fifteen days, he wandered through almost every corner of the city, thoroughly enjoying himself.
As night fell, Chen Xiaoming wrapped up another leisurely day and returned to his residence, going to bed early.
Now that he had explored the Extreme North City, it was time to leave.
At that moment, in the southern part of the city, two shadowy figures quietly entered, making their way toward the Spirit Hall's main temple.
Inside the temple, Scott stood anxiously waiting. He had received word from the Spirit Hall that two honored elders would be arriving today. As the head priest of this hall, he was obligated to await their arrival.
A sudden whooshing sound broke the silence.
Two figures in black robes swiftly appeared. Scott's expression froze for a brief moment, but as he sensed the faint pressure radiating from them, he immediately reacted.
"Kneeling in respect, subordinate Scott greets the two honored elders."
He bowed deeply, showing utmost reverence.
"Hmm. Have you confirmed the target?"
A calm, detached voice asked. A cold sweat broke out on Scott's forehead. The subtle pressure emanating from the two figures weighed heavily upon him.
"Honored elders, the target is powerful. We did not dare to send anyone to spy on him recklessly, fearing we might alert him."
The moment he finished speaking, the pressure on his shoulders intensified. He quickly added,
"However, I have stationed people to monitor all the exits from the city. Until today, there has been no sign of him leaving, so he should still be inside."
"'Should be'?"
There was a hint of displeasure in the voice. The sweat on Scott's forehead dripped down, and he bowed even lower.
"Hmm, not bad."
Just as the tension escalated, the second figure chuckled lightly. The overwhelming pressure on Scott instantly dissipated, and he let out a deep breath.
The first figure still seemed slightly dissatisfied, but after considering the target's strength, he refrained from speaking further.
Beneath the quiet night sky, the Extreme North City appeared peaceful. However, hidden within the darkness, figures from the Spirit Hall were moving, searching for something—or someone.
The next morning.
"Ahh, that was a great sleep. Time to head out."
Stretching lazily, Chen Xiaoming stood up. Having stayed in the city for half a month, he had explored every interesting spot. Now, it was time to visit new places.
A carefree life—relaxing, wandering, gaining experience, leveling up—that was how life should be.
All that tedious, day-after-day training just to grow stronger? No thanks. That was no fun at all.
As he walked out through the city's southern gate, he traveled southward for a while until he reached a vast, snow-covered plain.
The season had left a thick layer of snow blanketing the ground, stretching endlessly in all directions.
Chen Xiaoming took a glance around and nodded in satisfaction. He stopped walking.
"You've been following me all this way. Aren't you tired?"
His voice carried a hint of amusement.
Not far behind him, from behind a snow-covered hillside, two figures slowly emerged, their forms concealed beneath black robes.
Chen Xiaoming turned around with a light chuckle, gazing at them calmly.
The moment he had left the city, he had already sensed someone trailing him. After comprehending the Dao of Space for so long, if he couldn't even detect a simple tail, that would have been embarrassing.
"So, gentlemen, you've been following me all this way. What do you want?"
The two figures were caught off guard. They hadn't expected Chen Xiaoming to notice them, let alone remain so composed.
One of them stepped forward, and as he did, nine soul rings slowly rose beneath his feet.
Yellow, Yellow, Purple, Purple, Black, Black, Black, Black, Black.
Two yellow, two purple, five black—a textbook Soul Ring configuration, marking him as a Titled Douluo.
The nine rings encircled him, and an overwhelming soul power pressure descended upon Chen Xiaoming.
"His Holiness, the Pope, invites you to visit the Spirit Hall as a guest."
The ice-cold voice rang out, and the pressure on Chen Xiaoming intensified.
"Oh? The Spirit Hall?"
Chen Xiaoming raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. Why would the Spirit Hall suddenly come looking for him?
As far as he knew, he had no ties to them whatsoever.
Could it be… that they had somehow learned he possessed a hundred-thousand-year-old Soul Ring?
His interest was piqued.
"I have no idea why your so-called Pope wants to see me, but I'm busy. No time."
With a nonchalant smile, Chen Xiaoming remained entirely unfazed by the pressure weighing down on him.
This level of soul power pressure? At most, it was on par with a Soul Douluo. It didn't even qualify to make him lift a finger.
Was this Titled Douluo before him an idiot? He had revealed all nine of his Soul Rings, yet he was only exerting the pressure of a Soul Douluo? Who exactly was he trying to intimidate?
"So, you are refusing?"
The voice turned colder, and this time, the pressure surged to the true level of a Titled Douluo.
"And if I am?"
From the beginning, Chen Xiaoming had never taken them seriously. If not for his desire to toy with them a little, he would have already ended this fight.
"Swish!"
"Fifth Soul Skill—Death Chains!"
As soon as Chen Xiaoming finished speaking, his figure blurred. His fifth soul ring shone as a pitch-black scythe materialized in his hand, swirling with eerie dark light.
The scythe's chains shot forward, splitting into countless shadows, wrapping tightly around him in an instant.
The man standing before him was a Titled Douluo from the Spirit Hall, with a soul power level of 91. His Martial Soul was the Death Scythe, and his title was Death God Douluo—one of the few neutral Titled Douluo within the Spirit Hall.
This mission had been personally entrusted to him by Pope Bibi Dong, prompting him to take action himself.
Seeing his chains successfully bind the target, Death God Douluo was momentarily taken aback. But upon recalling the disparity in their strength, he relaxed.
However, when he looked at Chen Xiaoming's utterly calm expression, a chill ran down his spine.
Something felt off.
It had been… too easy. The target hadn't resisted at all.
The other Titled Douluo standing beside him, who had remained silent until now, suddenly stepped forward, his instincts screaming at him.
"Old Ghost, be careful."
He had worked alongside Death God Douluo for years, sharing the same soul power level of 91. His Martial Soul was the Snow Wolf, and his title was Snow Wolf Douluo.
Just then, Chen Xiaoming, who had been silent until now, finally spoke.
"You two… do you know why I stopped here even though I knew you were following me?"
Both Titled Douluo frowned, but before they could respond, Chen Xiaoming glanced around.
The world was blanketed in pure white snow. Serene. Peaceful.
"Don't you think… this is a perfect place for a burial?"
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