"The Angel Goddess sent… this shriveled old man to stop me? "
"A cultivation barely at the middle stage of Soul Sage," he continued, voice dripping with contempt.
"This is truly laughable."
Then his eyes sharpened.
"What if I did this?"
In the next instant, Yu Yuanzhen stretched out his arm.
Before anyone could react, his massive hand clamped around Rolin's neck.
Scrrrrk—
The conference room exploded into chaos.
"You dare—!!"
Huo Tian roared in fury. Flames erupted around his body as he instantly possessed his martial soul.
Martial Soul: Flame Monkey.
Eight soul rings surged upward—yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black, black—radiating scorching heat.
At the same time—
Feng Lao let out a sharp cry as violent winds wrapped around him.
Martial Soul: Wind Eagle.
Eight soul rings rose as well, his aura sharp and cutting, slicing through the suffocating pressure.
Shui Ning's expression hardened, as she possessed her martial soul
Martial Soul: Water Crane.
Eight soul rings followed—Level 88 Soul Douluo—her water and ice attributes intertwining into a chilling domain.
Three near-peak Soul Douluos released their full pressure simultaneously.
Yet—
Yu Yuanzhen merely smiled.
A smile filled with amusement… and pity.
"Today," he said calmly, "I will show you the disparity between a Titled Douluo… and those who are not."
He loosened his grip and threw Old Rolin aside like discarded luggage.
The old bishop crashed into the broken wall, coughing violently, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. Yet even then, his eyes remained fixed on Yu Yuanzhen—filled not with fear, but something unreadable.
Yu Yuanzhen took one step forward.
"Martial Soul—"
His voice thundered like a decree.
"Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon."
The air exploded.
Lightning tore through the conference hall as a colossal dragon phantom coiled behind him. Scales formed across Yu Yuanzhen's body, arcs of lightning snapping violently around his limbs.
Nine soul rings rose.
The elemental clan leaders felt their knees weaken. This… was the pressure of a high level Titled Douluo.
The battle erupted instantly.
Huo Tian struck first.
"Third Soul Skill — Flame Punch!"
A flaming fist tore through the air, followed by
"Sixth Soul Skill — Flame Thrower!"
A torrent of fire engulfed Yu Yuanzhen's position.
Feng Lao vanished into a blur.
"Fourth Soul Skill — Dazzling Speed!"
"Eighth Soul Skill — Speedy Guillotine!"
Wind blades descended like executioner's scythes.
Shui Ning raised both hands.
"Third Soul Skill — Water Bomb!"
"Eighth Soul Skill — Ice Beam!"
Water and ice condensed into a devastating freezing ray.
Yu Yuanzhen didn't dodge.
"Third Soul Skill — Thunder Net."
Lightning spread instantly, tearing through all incoming attacks.
"Fifth Soul Skill — Thunder Smash!"
A heavy thunder attack which neutralized the other elemental attacks.
"Seventh Soul Skill — Martial Soul Avatar!"
His body merged completely with the dragon phantom.
"Eighth Soul Skill — Thunder Dragon Rampage!"
Lightning spread across his body increasing all attack by 100%
Yu Yuanzhen moved like a lightning phantom, the conference hall was obliterated.
Walls collapsed, pillars vaporized, and the ceiling was torn apart as lightning raged like divine punishment.
Within moments—
The three elemental clan heads were sent flying, blood spraying from their mouths, their martial soul avatars forcibly shattered.
Yu Yuanzhen stood alone amid the ruins, lightning crackling around him like a living calamity.
"Remember this," he said coldly.
"This is what absolute power looks like."
With a casual motion, as if lifting an unruly animal, he picked up Old Bishop Rolin by the collar, raising the old man off the ground in front of the three principals.
Rolin's feet dangled helplessly.
His crimson robes were torn and stained with dust and blood, his breathing ragged. Compared to Yu Yuanzhen's towering, lightning-wreathed figure, he truly looked like nothing more than a frail chick in the claws of a dragon.
Yu Yuanzhen's voice echoed coldly through the ruined hall.
"In the soul master's world," he said slowly, deliberately, "one must never disrespect a Titled Douluo."
His fingers tightened slightly.
"Otherwise, they will learn what the wrath of a Titled Douluo truly looks like."
Despite his condition, Old Bishop Rolin smiled.
It was not a mocking smile, nor a defiant one—
but the calm smile of someone who had already made peace with his own end.
"I have already lived most of my life," Rolin said hoarsely.
"I awakened countless martial souls… guided generations of children onto their paths."
"I achieved what I wished to achieve."
He paused, breath trembling.
"I am not afraid of death."
Yet his body betrayed him.
His hands shook uncontrollably, his breathing grew uneven, and cold sweat streamed down his temples. No matter how resolute his spirit was, his flesh was still that of an old man facing a monster.
"Ha! Ha! Ha!!"
Yu Yuanzhen burst into loud laughter. The sound rolled like thunder, filled with undisguised ridicule.
Yu Yuanzhen had no intention of killing Old Bishop Rolin.
No matter how arrogant he was, he was still deeply wary of the hegemon behind this old man—Spirit Hall.
If he truly killed a long-serving bishop in public, the consequences would not be something even the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan could ignore lightly.
His goal was not death.
It was fear drilled into the bones of the elemental clans, fear that would crush their resistance and make their submission effortless.
At that moment—
Dong!
Dong!
The bell rang again.
The sound echoed across the city, solemn and sacred.
Yu Yuanzhen tilted his head slightly, listening, then sneered.
"It seems a festival is going on… in your Spirit Hall."
His gaze sharpened cruelly.
"Good."
"Let everyone see what kind of punishment awaits those who dare oppose a Titled Douluo."
Killing Rolin was out of the question.,But crippling him?
That was well within acceptable limits.
With that thought, lightning surged beneath Yu Yuanzhen's feet.
The next instant—
He shot into the sky, carrying Old Bishop Rolin with him, streaking toward the Spirit Hall branch like a bolt of divine punishment.
Only ruins remained behind.
Inside the shattered conference hall, Feng Lao, Shui Ning, and Huo Tian were helped up by their clan members.
Their clothes were torn, blood stained their lips, and their auras were unstable—but their injuries were, thankfully, not severe.
Feng Lao steadied himself, while Shui Ning clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.
Huo Tian's flames flickered weakly, his eyes burning with humiliation and anger.
All three turned toward the younger generation—
Feng Xiaotian, Huo Wu, Huo Wushuang, Shui Bing'er, Shui Yue'er—
whose faces were pale, fists clenched, hearts shaken by what they had just witnessed.
In a somber voice, Feng Lao spoke.
"Let's go to the Spirit Hall."
No one objected.
Moments later, all of them moved with haste toward the Spirit Hall branch—
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(Author notes: This mini arc only has, at most 3 chapters left.)