Within the hour, Bibi Dong, her face still a mask of cold fury mixed with deep concern, gently lifted Song Qing's unconscious body into her arms. The other Titled Douluo watched in silence, understanding that the Pope was now taking matters entirely into her own hands.
"I am taking Qing'er back to the Spirit Hall," Bibi Dong announced, her voice firm and leaving no room for argument. "Ghost Douluo, Chrysanthemum Douluo, you will accompany me. The rest of you," she glanced at Dugu Bo, Sword Douluo, and Bone Douluo, "I thank you again for your assistance. You may return to your respective duties."
Without waiting for a response, Bibi Dong's figure blurred, and she shot out of Dugu Bo's mansion, Ghost Douluo and Chrysanthemum Douluo following closely behind. The sheer speed at which the Pope moved, carrying Song Qing with such care, spoke volumes about her concern for her disciple.
'My poor Qing'er,' Bibi Dong thought, her heart aching as she looked down at his pale face. 'That damned Tang Hao… he will pay dearly for this. No one hurts my Qing'er and gets away with it.' The insidious energy was gone, thanks to her intervention, but the physical trauma was still significant, and his continued unconsciousness worried her deeply.
As they arrived at the majestic Martial Soul City, Bibi Dong didn't even pause at the main gates. She flew directly towards the inner sanctum of the Spirit Hall, her aura radiating an immense pressure that caused all the Spirit Masters within to kneel in reverence and fear.
Once inside her private chambers, Bibi Dong gently laid Song Qing on a soft, luxurious bed. Her eyes scanned his injured body, her brow furrowed in worry. "He needs the best healers," she murmured to herself, her voice filled with urgency.
Without hesitation, she unleashed a telepathic command that resonated throughout the entire Spirit Hall, reaching every corner of Martial Soul City. "All Spirit Masters with support-type Martial Souls capable of providing healing, report to the Pope's Palace immediately! Immense rewards will be granted to anyone who can successfully heal the Holy Son!"
The response was immediate and overwhelming. Spirit Masters with healing abilities, from all levels and ranks within the Spirit Hall, rushed towards the Pope's Palace, their hearts filled with a mixture of fear and hope. The promise of immeasurable rewards from the Pope herself was an unprecedented opportunity.
But Bibi Dong didn't stop there. As she waited for the healers to arrive, her mind raced, formulating a plan. Tang Hao's attack had exposed a vulnerability, a weakness that she would address immediately. The Spirit Hall had always focused on offensive power, but the importance of strong support-type Spirit Masters, especially healers, had never been more apparent.
With a decisive glint in her eyes, Bibi Dong issued another decree, this time directed at the Spirit Hall's high-ranking officials, elders, and bishops. "From this day forward," her voice echoed through the halls, carrying the weight of her absolute authority, "the Spirit Hall will prioritize the growth and development of support-type Spirit Masters. Our experts, elders, and bishops will personally assist these individuals in their cultivation, helping them absorb soul rings of the highest possible age to facilitate their rapid growth."
This order sent shockwaves throughout the Spirit Hall. It was an unprecedented shift in their long-standing policies. Resources and guidance that were previously focused almost entirely on combat-oriented Spirit Masters would now be directed towards those with support abilities.
The impact of this decision was immediate and far-reaching. Support-type Spirit Masters within the Spirit Hall, who had often felt overlooked and undervalued, were suddenly thrust into the spotlight. They received personalized training, guidance from powerful Spirit Hall experts, and assistance in finding and absorbing high-quality soul rings that would have been impossible for them to obtain on their own.
The news of the Pope's decree spread like wildfire throughout the Spirit Hall and eventually to the wider spirit master world. It sparked a renewed interest in support-type Martial Souls, especially healing abilities. Many young individuals who possessed such spirits, who might have previously felt discouraged, now saw a clear path to power and recognition within the Spirit Hall.
The number of skilled healers and other support-type Spirit Masters within the Spirit Hall began to rise at an astonishing rate. Elders and bishops, following the Pope's direct orders, dedicated their time and resources to nurturing this previously underappreciated group. They led expeditions to hunt down powerful spirit beasts suitable for support-type soul rings and provided invaluable guidance on cultivation techniques.
Within a short period, the Spirit Hall's support capabilities experienced a dramatic and unprecedented surge. The number of high-level healers, capable of mending even grievous injuries, increased significantly. Spirit Masters with other support abilities, such as those who could enhance attack power, provide defensive buffs, or control the battlefield, also saw a rapid improvement in their strength.
Bibi Dong, while consumed with worry for Song Qing's well-being, oversaw these changes with a grim satisfaction. Tang Hao's attack had been a brutal lesson, but one that she intended to learn from. The Spirit Hall would become an even more formidable force, with strength in both offense and support, all thanks to the sacrifice and near-death experience of her beloved disciple.
As the first wave of healers arrived at her chambers, their faces filled with a mixture of nervousness and determination, Bibi Dong looked at them with a fierce hope in her eyes. "You must heal him," she commanded, her voice filled with an unwavering resolve. "You must save my Qing'er. The rewards I promised will be yours tenfold if you succeed." The fate of the Holy Son, and perhaps the future of the Spirit Hall, now rested in their hands.
~~
The first wave of healers, despite their best efforts and varied abilities, couldn't rouse Song Qing from his deep slumber. Bibi Dong, though disappointed, kept her word and rewarded them generously for their dedication and effort.
"You have all done your best," she told them, her voice carrying a hint of weariness. "Your efforts have not been in vain. Rest and recuperate, and be ready should I summon you again."
Then came the second wave, and the third, and so on. Months bled into each other as a steady stream of support-type Spirit Masters arrived at the Spirit Hall, each hoping to be the one to finally heal the Holy Son and earn the Pope's favor.
Nearly three years passed. The once vibrant and energetic Song Qing was now eleven years old, his body having grown taller and more mature, but his eyes remained closed, his consciousness locked away in a deep coma.
During this time, the Spirit Hall, under Bibi Dong's unwavering command, had indeed focused heavily on nurturing support-type Spirit Masters. Resources flowed freely towards them, and many were guided by powerful Spirit Hall experts to absorb soul rings from spirit beasts of astonishing age, some even reaching the ten-thousand-year mark, granting them potent healing abilities.
The flow of healers to the Spirit Hall never truly ceased. Some of the same individuals would return time and again, their hope renewed with each visit. The potential reward for awakening the Holy Son was so immense that they were willing to dedicate years to the effort. 'If I'm the one to finally do it,' many thought, their hearts pounding with anticipation, 'my status will be elevated beyond my wildest dreams!'
Over the years, Song Qing's physical injuries had indeed healed considerably. His body, blessed with his powerful spirits and spirit bones, was slowly mending itself. Yet, his consciousness remained stubbornly dormant. It was a perplexing situation that baffled many of the healers.
However, Bibi Dong understood the underlying reason. 'That damned Asura God's Will,' she thought, her eyes hardening with a familiar anger. 'It's still there, a tiny sliver clinging to his soul, preventing him from truly healing.' She had managed to purge the insidious energy of the Deathgod Domain that Tang Hao wielded, but the divine will was a different beast altogether, far more resilient and difficult to deal with.
While it wasn't actively harming Song Qing further, it seemed to be acting as a stubborn anchor, preventing his consciousness from fully returning.
Interestingly, Bibi Dong found that her anger towards the Asura God's Will, a constant simmering resentment, was actually intertwining with her thoughts of the Rakshasa Goddess. The trials she was undergoing felt… easier, somehow. The darkness within her seemed to resonate with the lingering divine will within Song Qing, fueling her own power in a strange and unexpected way. 'Perhaps this is a twisted form of balance,' she mused, a cold smile touching her lips.
In these past three years, the Power Clan had suffered greatly under the Spirit Hall's relentless assault. Their once formidable influence had been shattered, their strongholds destroyed, and their members scattered and forced into hiding. Only the Clan Head managed to evade capture, disappearing without a trace. Amongst the remaining members, a bitter resentment towards Tang Hao festered. "That fool!" they would whisper in hushed tones. "His reckless attack has brought ruin upon us!"
Then, one seemingly ordinary day, as the 169th wave of healers arrived at the Spirit Hall, something shifted. Among the twenty or so Spirit Masters, ranging from Spirit Kings to Spirit Saints, was Ye Lingling. Now possessing four soul rings, her Nine Heart Begonia spirit radiated a vibrant, life-giving energy.
"Holy Son," Ye Lingling said, her voice filled with a quiet determination as she stood beside Song Qing's bed, her spirit hovering gently above him. "I will do everything I can." She unleashed the full power of her four soul rings, consecutive waves of potent healing energy washing over Song Qing's still form.
Alongside her, the other twenty support-type Spirit Masters focused their abilities, each unique healing power adding to the collective effort. There were those who channeled pure light, others who manipulated life force, and some who used specialized healing techniques honed over years of practice, all directed towards the young boy on the bed.
For a long moment, nothing seemed to happen. The healers poured their energy into Song Qing, their faces etched with concentration and hope. Then, a collective gasp rippled through the room.
A finger on Song Qing's left hand twitched.
Ye Lingling's eyes widened, and she focused even more intently, her forehead beaded with sweat. The other healers redoubled their efforts, sensing that a breakthrough was imminent.
Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, Song Qing's eyelids fluttered. A soft groan escaped his lips, a sound that hadn't been heard in nearly three long years. His eyes, still hazy and unfocused, began to open.
The healers around the bed held their breath, their hearts pounding in their chests. They had done it. After all this time, the Holy Son Song Qing was finally awakening.
His gaze slowly swept across the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings and the many faces peering down at him with a mixture of relief and elation. Confusion clouded his young features as he tried to make sense of where he was and what had happened.
Right now, Song Qing, at the age of eleven years and three months, was finally back in the world of the living. The long, dark night of his coma had finally come to an end.