Golden light spilled across the streets of Spirit City, reflecting dazzling halos everywhere.
From time to time, Spirit Hall officials dressed in white or yellow uniforms hurried past.
Yang Wushuang, dressed in a brand-new set of black robes, walked through these prosperous yet oppressive streets, appearing somewhat out of place.
Spirit City was enormous.
Even with Yang Wushuang’s speed, it still took nearly half an hour before that magnificent structure, grand enough to leave one breathless, completely filled his vision.
The main hall stood dozens of meters tall, constructed entirely from an unknown kind of white jade stone that shimmered with sacred brilliance beneath the sunlight.
Dozens of gigantic stone pillars, each so wide that two people could barely wrap their arms around them, supported the massive palace.
Intricate angel reliefs were carved across the pillars, while atop the main hall gleamed an enormous golden angel emblem.
This was the true center of Spirit Hall’s power.
The holy land revered by countless Spirit Masters.
And also the deepest shackle in Yang Wushuang’s heart all these years.
At the entrance plaza before the main hall stood two guards clad in golden armor and holding long spears.
Their auras were steady and powerful, their gazes sharp as hawks.
Both were clearly Spirit Emperors.
Yang Wushuang stopped walking and calmly looked toward one of the guards, his voice entering the other party’s ears.
“Please report this for me.
Tell the Worship Hall that Yang Wushuang of the Yang family requests an audience with the Worship.” Hearing this, the guard carefully sized Yang Wushuang up.
“So it’s Bishop Yang.” The guard slightly bowed, his tone becoming noticeably more respectful.
“Please wait a moment.
I’ll report it immediately.” After speaking, he exchanged a glance with the other guard before quickly turning and heading deeper into the main hall.
“Bishop Yang, this way please.” The remaining guard immediately stepped forward and gestured respectfully.
Yang Wushuang slightly nodded and followed the guard toward a side hall beside the plaza.
Back then, because of Yang Wushuang’s decision, both the Yang and Niu families received certain privileges within Spirit Hall.
As the heads of their respective families, Yang Wushuang and Niu Yue both held the position of Black Robed Bishop within Spirit Hall.
Spirit Hall’s ranking system was extremely strict.
From low to high, the positions were: White-Robed Deacon, Yellow-Robed Archdeacon, Purple-Robed Bishop, Black Robed Bishop, Red-Robed Bishop, Platinum Bishop, and finally the highest rank—Elder.
These were not merely differences in title, but directly tied to one’s Spirit Power level and contributions to Spirit Hall.
White-Robed Deacons were usually Grand Spirit Masters.
Yellow-Robed Archdeacons required at least Spirit Elder strength.
Most Purple-Robed Bishops were Spirit Kings.
As for Black Robed Bishops, the minimum requirement was Spirit Emperor level, with some reaching Spirit Saint rank.
Every Red-Robed Bishop was either a peak Spirit Saint or even a Spirit Douluo-level powerhouse.
Platinum Bishops, meanwhile, could only be held by Spirit Douluo experts.
And regarding Elders—even in Yang Wushuang’s memory, aside from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan’s sect master whose status rivaled that of a Titled Douluo, only true Titled Douluo were qualified to become Elders.
The guard led Yang Wushuang into the reception hall.
The furnishings inside were simple, containing only a few ancient tables and chairs, while the faint scent of sandalwood lingered in the air.
“Bishop Yang, please wait here for a moment,” the guard respectfully said before withdrawing from the hall.
Yang Wushuang nodded and walked alone to a chair before sitting down.
He carefully placed the white jade bottle in his hand onto the table beside him, calmly gazing toward the hall entrance while countless thoughts churned within his heart.
Boom— About fifteen minutes later, accompanied by a deep muffled roar, the tightly shut doors were violently pushed open from outside.
An overwhelming pressure, as heavy as a towering mountain, instantly swept into the hall and filled every corner of it.
The sheer intensity of the pressure made the air itself seem to freeze solid.
Even the flames of the burning sandalwood incense flickered and stalled momentarily.
Yang Wushuang’s expression changed as the Spirit Power within his body instinctively surged forth to resist the pressure.
A burly giant of a man swaggered arrogantly into the hall.
He wore a dark red robe trimmed with gold.
The exposed muscles on his arms bulged with explosive power, while his dark golden hair stood upright like steel needles.
His features were rough and imposing, with a faint scar across his forehead, and his eyes carried an overbearing arrogance.
The moment Yang Wushuang saw who had arrived, his pupils suddenly contracted, and uncontrollable shock flashed through his eyes.
He immediately rose from his chair, straightened his clothes, and bowed deeply.
“Black Robed Bishop Yang Wushuang greets the Seventh Worship!” The Seventh Worship—Falling Devil Douluo!
A peak Douluo with terrifying Level 96 cultivation!
Over the years, because of “Variegated Seven Colors,” Yang Wushuang had interacted with Spirit Hall’s upper ranks many times and had met this great figure of the Worship Hall on a couple of occasions.
He never imagined that coming today merely to report a minor matter would actually alarm someone of this level.
Falling Devil Douluo casually swept his gaze across the hall before finally landing on Yang Wushuang.
He sized him up from head to toe, a trace of amusement flickering in his eyes.
In his view, a Level 78 Spirit Saint—especially one whose future had already reached its limit—simply wasn’t worthy of his attention.
If not for his elder brother repeatedly reminding him before coming here, he would never have bothered wasting time meeting such a minor figure.
Falling Devil Douluo gave a light cough and deliberately put on a stern expression as he said in his deep voice: “No need for formalities.
Bishop Yang, what brings you here today?” Yang Wushuang did not dare show the slightest negligence.
Respectfully, he presented the jade bottle from the table before Falling Devil Douluo.
“My lord, this is the ‘Variegated Seven Colors’ poison this subordinate refined recently.” “Oh?” Falling Devil Douluo glanced at the jade bottle before casually storing it away.
His expression remained indifferent as he looked at Yang Wushuang.
“If Bishop Yang personally delivered it, I doubt you came only to hand over poison.” “Reporting to the Worship, my grandson Yang Chang’an broke through to Level 10 today.
He needs to hunt a suitable Spirit Ring, so this subordinate has come to report the matter and request permission to bring my grandson to the spirit beast forest to obtain one.” “Oh?
He broke through?” Falling Devil Douluo raised a brow and leisurely walked over to the main seat before sitting down.
Picking up a teacup from the table, he drained it in one gulp.
“How long do you plan to leave for?” “One month,” Yang Wushuang answered almost immediately.
This was a timeframe he had already calculated long ago.
“Including the travel time and the search for a suitable spirit beast in the forest, one month will be sufficient.” “One month?” Falling Devil Douluo set down the teacup, his brows slightly furrowing as his sharp eyes locked onto Yang Wushuang.
“Bishop Yang, you should understand your own status.
You are someone our Spirit Hall places under special ‘protection.’ Leaving Spirit City for an entire month—isn’t that a bit too long?” “What if something unexpected happens?
Who would take responsibility?” Yang Wushuang’s heart tightened as he was just about to explain, but Falling Devil Douluo suddenly changed the topic.
“How about this instead?
I happen to have some free time lately.
Why don’t I personally accompany your grandson to hunt his Spirit Ring?” “What?!” Yang Wushuang abruptly lifted his head in shock.
A peak Douluo personally helping a child who had just reached Level 10 hunt a Spirit Ring?
That was simply unbelievable!
It wasn’t that he feared Falling Devil Douluo would harm the Yang family’s hope.
With the other party’s status and strength, there was no need for such methods.
Although confused inwardly, Yang Wushuang still respectfully replied: “For Chang’an to receive such favor from the Worship is his blessing.
Naturally, Wushuang has no objections.” “Heh.” Seeing Yang Wushuang acting so cautious and careful, Falling Devil Douluo suddenly grinned and waved his hand.
“Forget it, forget it.
Hunting a Spirit Ring is ultimately a matter between grandfather and grandson.
If an outsider like me interferes, it would seem rather inconsiderate.” As soon as he finished speaking, before Yang Wushuang could react, Falling Devil Douluo suddenly pulled out a bronze bracelet from his robes.
Whoosh!
With a flick of his finger, the bronze bracelet shot precisely toward Yang Wushuang.
Startled, Yang Wushuang hurriedly extended both hands and steadily caught it.
“With this token, you may leave.
I’ll give you a month and a half.
That should be enough, right?” “Also, this soul tool—” Falling Devil Douluo pointed toward the bronze bracelet in Yang Wushuang’s hands, the corners of his lips curving into a meaningful smile.
“Consider it this old man’s gift to your precious grandson.” Yang Wushuang lowered his head to look at it, the confusion in his heart deepening further.
He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing all the emotions in his heart before bowing once more toward Falling Devil Douluo.
“On behalf of Chang’an, this subordinate thanks the Worship for his generosity!” “Mm.” Falling Devil Douluo nodded in satisfaction and waved dismissively.
“Alright, alright.
Business is finished.
You may leave now.” “This subordinate takes his leave.” Yang Wushuang bowed once again before turning and walking toward the hall entrance.
As the massive doors slowly closed shut, the great hall instantly returned to silence.
Falling Devil Douluo sat alone in the main seat, staring at the tightly shut doors as the smile on his face gradually faded away.
He scratched his dark golden short hair, a trace of confusion and uncertainty appearing on his rugged face as he muttered softly to himself: “Fifth Brother… is this really reliable?” The moment the words fell, Falling Devil Douluo’s massive figure instantly vanished from the hall, as though