Chapter 41: Tang San Vs Zhang TianFlender stepped forward into the space between them, his hawkish face set in a serious expression. He looked from one boy to the other, a deep sigh escaping his lips.
"This is a one-on-one duel. No outside interference is allowed." His gaze flickered meaningfully towards the two Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect Elders who stood impassively at the edge of the clearing.
"Activate your Martial Spirits," Flender commanded.
A brilliant blue light erupted from Tang San, rich and vibrant. A single, tough-looking blade of Blue Silver Grass, its leaves marked with faint golden veins, appeared in his palm. Below his feet, three spirit rings—two yellow, one purple—pulsated with a steady, confident power.
Opposite him, Zhang Tian simply raised a hand. His Blood Silver Grass materialized, a stark, beautiful crimson that seemed to drink the very light, its own golden veins pulsing with a quiet, predatory energy. His two yellow rings were a stark, minimalist contrast to Tang San's display.
"The rules are as you agreed," Flender continued, his voice echoing in the tense silence. "No holds barred. The duel ends when one combatant is unable to continue the fight. Begin!"
The word was a starting pistol, and the world exploded.
There was no testing, no probing. This was a battle that had been brewing for months, a clash of ideology and pride that demanded a violent resolution.
Tang San moved first. His feet blurred, tracing the complex, ethereal patterns of the Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track. He didn't charge forward; he circled, a phantom gliding through the trees, his form flickering in and out of sight.
As he moved, his hands were a blur of motion. With a series of silent, almost imperceptible flicks of his wrist, a dozen tiny, dark glints of light shot from his sleeves. The Sleeve Silent Darts. They flew through the air without a sound, aimed not at Zhang Tian's vitals, but at his joints—his knees, his elbows, his wrists—a classic Tang Sect opening designed to cripple an opponent's mobility.
'Let's see you dodge this,' Tang San thought, his mind a cold, calculating machine.
Zhang Tian didn't even seem to look at the incoming needles. His second spirit ring flared to life. "Parasitic Spores."
An invisible cloud, finer than mist, washed over the entire clearing in an instant, settling on every leaf, every branch, every patch of dirt. His area and domain had been established.
He didn't dodge the needles. He simply stomped his foot. The ground in front of him erupted. Not with a shield, but with a dense, chaotic whirlwind of crimson vines that spun like a tornado.
The silent darts slammed into the spinning mass and were instantly deflected, sent spinning harmlessly into the surrounding trees with a series of soft pings.
While the vine-vortex was still spinning, Tang San acted again. He had already reached a new position, his hands holding a weapon of intricate, deadly beauty. The Godly Zhuge Crossbow.
"Let's see your grass block this!" he snarled. He pulled the trigger.
Twang-twang-twang-twang!
A storm of forty-eight black-fletched crossbow bolts screamed through the air, a solid wall of sharpened steel aimed directly at Zhang Tian's center mass.
Zhang Tian's response was instantaneous. The spinning vortex of vines in front of him dissolved, and in its place, a massive, layered dome erupted from the ground. 'Crimson Shield Wall!'
Dozens of thick, interwoven layers of Blood Silver Grass formed a hemispherical barrier. The crossbow bolts struck with a series of deafening, percussive thuds. They punched through the first layer, the second, the third, their momentum bleeding away with each layer they penetrated. The final bolts clattered harmlessly against the innermost wall, their force completely spent.
Under the cover of the assault, Zhang Tian moved. He didn't retreat. He advanced. He reached into his storage ring and pulled out his twin pistols.
The sight of the sleek, black firearms sent a jolt of alarm through the watching teachers. Yu Xiaogang's eyes narrowed. 'Crude, but undeniably powerful.'
Zhang Tian raised the pistols and fired. Not at Tang San, but at the trees around him.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The explosive rounds struck the thick trunks of the ancient trees, detonating with concussive force. Bark and splinters flew everywhere. The trees groaned but remained standing.
'What is he doing?' Tang San thought, confused by the seemingly random attack. 'Is his aim that bad?'
He quickly got his answer. Zhang Tian wasn't trying to hit him. He was reshaping the battlefield. The explosions had created a chaotic screen of falling leaves and debris, obscuring Tang San's line of sight.
At the same time, from the spots where the bullets had struck, where his spores had settled, new growths of Blood Silver Grass erupted from the very trunks of the trees, snaking downwards like crimson pythons.
Tang San's eyes widened. 'He's turning the entire forest into his weapon!'
He didn't panic. He was a master of fighting in complex terrain. His left hand shot out. With a sharp, sonorous clang, a metal cone shot from his wrist guard, bursting open mid-flight to become a five-fingered metal claw. The Flying God Claw.
With a flick of his thumb, the claw shot forward, a grappling hook trailing a thin but incredibly strong metal wire. It bit deep into the branch of a high tree. With a tug, Tang San was airborne, swinging gracefully through the canopy, above the chaos on the ground.
From his new vantage point, he spotted Zhang Tian moving through the trees below. He adjusted his aim with the Godly Zhuge Crossbow.
But Zhang Tian was not an easy target. He was using his own vines, sprouting them from the trunks and branches, to swing and propel himself through the forest with a strange, unpredictable grace that was a bizarre mirror of Tang San's own movements.
The battle had become a deadly, three-dimensional game of cat and mouse. Crossbow bolts whizzed through the air, met by blasts from Zhang Tian's shotgun, the wide spread of pellets forcing Tang San to constantly change his position.
"This is incredible!" Oscar breathed from the sidelines. "They're like two monkeys fighting in the jungle!"
"It's a battle of attrition and positioning," Yu Xiaogang corrected, his eyes gleaming with analytical fervor. "Xiao San is using his superior mobility tools to gain a height advantage, while Zhang Tian is using his spirit's unique properties to turn the environment against him. Fascinating."
Tang San, realizing he couldn't get a clean shot, decided to set a trap. He landed silently on a thick branch, concealing himself behind a curtain of leaves. He quickly put away his crossbow and brought out a larger, more menacing weapon. The Tense Back Flower Adornment Crossbow.
He carefully aimed the heavy, single-shot weapon, his back muscles coiling like powerful springs. He waited, his breathing perfectly still. He saw a flash of blue and crimson moving through the trees below. He led his target, calculated the trajectory, and with a grunt of effort, he fired.
The massive crossbow bolt, as thick as a man's wrist, screamed through the air with a sound like tearing silk. It was a weapon of pure, overwhelming destructive force.
Zhang Tian, moving from one tree to the next, felt a sudden, sharp spike of danger through his domain. His spores on the leaves near Tang San's hiding spot had felt the sudden displacement of air, the coiling of muscle.
He didn't have time to think. He reacted. He threw himself sideways, twisting his body in mid-air.
He was fast, but the bolt was faster. It grazed his side, not piercing his skin, but the sheer kinetic force was like being hit by a sledgehammer. A starburst of pain exploded in his ribs, and the impact sent him tumbling from the trees.
"YES!" Dai Mubai hissed from the sidelines, a vicious, triumphant grin on his face.
Zhang Tian crashed to the forest floor, landing in a crouch, a sharp gasp of pain escaping his lips. He was winded, his side throbbing with a deep, bruising ache.
Before he could recover, Tang San was upon him. He had dropped from the trees like a silent predator, his third spirit ring now blazing with a menacing purple light.
"It's over!" Tang San yelled. "Third Spirit Ability! Miasma Pulse Root!"
His Blue Silver Grass erupted from the ground all around Zhang Tian. But this time, it was different. The vines themselves were now a deep, sickly purple, and they were covered in fine, almost invisible thorns that dripped with a glistening, black venom. This was no longer just a binding attack. It was a direct injection of his most potent poisons.
'So this is his solution,' Zhang Tian thought, his mind racing even as pain lanced through his side. 'He's bypassed the weakness of his pulse ability by turning his vines into hypodermic needles. Clever.'
He couldn't dodge. He was surrounded. He had to face it head-on.
'Devour!' His first spirit ring flared.
The poisoned vines slammed into him, their thorns piercing his clothes and pricking his skin. He felt the venom seep into his bloodstream—a paralytic neurotoxin mixed with a corrosive agent that began to burn at his very spirit power.
He focused his entire will on his Devour ability by piercing his body with his own Blood Silver Grass. He could feel it working, siphoning the poison from his body, drawing it into his own grass. But the venom was too potent, too direct. It was like trying to drink a river through a straw. A wave of nausea and dizziness washed over him, his vision blurring at the edges.
With a roar of pure effort, he channeled all the siphoned poison into the vines that were binding him and then, with a final, desperate act of will, he severed them completely from his spirit.
The crimson vines binding his body turned black and dissolved into a foul-smelling sludge, but the effort had cost him. He staggered, his face pale, a trickle of dark blood appearing at the corner of his mouth.
In his spiritual sea, Ah Yin cried out in alarm. 'Zhang Tian! You're hurt! Let me help you!'
'No!' he commanded, his mental voice strained but firm. 'Stay hidden! I can handle this!'
Seeing his opponent weakened, Tang San pressed his advantage. "You've lost," he declared, his voice filled with a cold, righteous certainty. He lunged forward, his hands glowing with the Mysterious Jade Hand, preparing to deliver the final, disabling blow.
It was in that moment of seeming victory that Tang San made his fatal mistake. He saw Zhang Tian stumble, saw the blood on his lips, and his arrogance, the deep-seated belief in his own superiority, blinded him. He dropped his guard for a single, crucial instant.
He didn't see the faint, almost imperceptible smirk that touched Zhang Tian's lips.
The "weakness" had been an act. A perfectly executed piece of theater. The poison had hurt, yes, but the Mysterious Heaven Skill, circulating constantly within him, was already purging the last remnants of the toxin from his system. The stumble, the pained expression—it was all bait.
And Tang San had taken it.
Just as he lunged, the ground beneath his feet exploded. Not with vines, but with a forest of sharp, hardened crimson spikes. 'Self-Created Spirit Skill: Crimson Impalement!'
Tang San gasped, his eyes widening in shock. He was forced to abandon his attack and execute a desperate, mid-air twist, using his Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track to its absolute limit to avoid being skewered.
He landed, off-balance, his attack momentum completely broken. And Zhang Tian was no longer there.
He had used the moment of Tang San's attack to move becoming a crimson blur. He was now standing twenty meters away, his posture no longer weak, his breathing steady, his blue eyes as cold and clear as a winter sky.
The tide had turned.
Zhang Tian raised his shotgun. "My turn."
BOOM!
A wide spread of pellets screamed across the clearing. Tang San was forced to dodge, his elegant footwork now a desperate scramble.
BOOM!
Another blast forced him to dive behind a tree. But the moment he was behind cover, the very tree he was using for protection came alive, crimson vines erupting from its bark to try and ensnare him.
He was being hunted, hounded, given no time to think, no time to set up his own attacks. Zhang Tian's control of the battlefield was now absolute, his spores turning the entire forest into a death trap.
Tang San could feel his spirit power draining rapidly, the constant, insidious effect of 'Devour' now taking a serious toll. He was losing. He knew he was losing.
Desperation, cold and sharp, clawed at him. He saw his dream of victory, his teacher's grand plans, slipping through his fingers. His pride, his very identity as a peerless genius, was being shattered.
And in that moment of desperation, his gaze fell upon the sidelines. He saw Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing, watching the fight with wide, worried eyes.
A dark, ugly thought, born from the deepest, most poisoned corners of his soul, took root.
'If I can't beat you in a straightforward battle… then I'll use other means to win.'
He feinted a charge towards Zhang Tian, drawing his attention. Then, with a speed born from pure desperation, he spun, his hands a blur.
A dozen Sleeve Silent Darts.
But they were not aimed at Zhang Tian.
They were aimed directly at Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing.
The two girls gasped, their eyes widening in pure, unadulterated terror. They were support and agility types, their defenses minimal. Against poisoned, high-velocity needles at this range, they were helpless.
The Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect Elders tensed, their auras flaring, ready to intervene.
But Zhang Tian was faster.
His face, which had been a mask of cold calculation, twisted into a snarl of pure, unrestrained fury. The calm was gone. The control was gone. All that remained was a white-hot, volcanic rage.
"YOU DARE?!"
His roar was not a sound; it was a shockwave.
He didn't move to intercept the needles with his body. He simply threw up a hand. A massive, thick wall of crimson vines erupted from the ground in front of the two girls, a shield of impenetrable density. The needles slammed into it with a series of soft thuds, their poison useless against the unliving plant matter.
The girls were safe. But a line had been crossed.
The spar was over. The punishment was about to begin.
The entire clearing exploded. Not with a few vines, not with a cage, but with a tidal wave. The very ground tore apart as hundreds, thousands of Blood Silver Grass vines erupted, a crimson tsunami of pure, binding rage.
The air was filled with the sound of tearing earth and snapping roots.
Tang San didn't even have time for a full scream, only a choked cry of alarm before the wave of vines slammed into him, overwhelming him, burying him, binding every inch of his body in an unbreakable cocoon of constricting crimson. He was lifted into the air, helpless, a fly caught in a spider's web.
"Stop the match! He's lost!" Yu Xiaogang roared, rushing forward. Flender and Zhao Wuji were right behind him.
But they never reached him. Two figures flickered into existence before them, blocking their path. The Spirit Douluo elders, Shi and Li.
"The terms were 'no holds barred' with no outside interference allowed," Elder Shi said, his voice as cold as the grave. "And the duel ends when one combatant is 'unable to continue'. He is still conscious. The duel is not over."
Their immense, combined auras pressed down on the Shrek teachers, a clear, unmistakable warning. 'Interfere, and you will die.'
Zhang Tian walked slowly towards the suspended, struggling form of Tang San. His face was a mask of cold, terrifying fury.
"You targeted them," he said, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "You targeted my friends. My women."
He reached out and grabbed Tang San's right arm. He pulled.
CRACK!
A sound of sickening, wet tearing filled the air. A scream tore from Tang San's throat, a raw, high-pitched sound of pure, unadulterated agony.
"AAAAAAGGGHHHHHH!"
It was a sound that didn't seem human, filled with the horror of a body being ripped apart.
Tears streamed from his wide, unbelieving eyes, mixing with sweat on his pale face.
The shriek was abruptly cut short as a thick vine wrapped around his mouth, gagging him. The sound devolved into a series of muffled, desperate cries, "Mmmph! MMMMGGGHHH!"
Zhang Tian held the prize in his hand. It was Tang San's right arm bone, ripped clean from his body, still dripping with blood and sinew.
He didn't hesitate. He lunged forward and drove the sharp, jagged end of the bone deep into Tang San's stomach.
SQUELCH.
The muffled cries from behind the vine gag turned into a wet, gurgling sound.
"Mmmgghh... ghh... urk..." Blood welled up in Tang San's throat, bubbling past his lips and soaking the vine that held his screams captive.
His desperate, pain-filled whimpers were drowned out as he began to choke on his own blood. The dark, spreading stain on his blue robes grew larger.
Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing watched, their hands clasped over their mouths, their faces pale with a mixture of horror and a strange, terrifying thrill. Xiao Wu had fainted.
Dai Mubai stumbled back, his face a sickly green. "Gods... he... he just..." he gasped, before doubling over. "Bleargh! Retch!" He vomited onto the forest floor, his body trembling uncontrollably.
But Zhang Tian was not finished. His revenge was not complete.
A single, thick vine, its tip hardening to a cruel, blunt point, rose from the mass binding Tang San. It moved slowly, deliberately, towards his groin.
It struck.
There was a soft, sickening, squishing sound.
A final, strangled, guttural noise escaped the gag, a sound of absolute violation that was more horrifying than any scream.
"Gggghhhaaaahk!"
Tang San's body arched in a silent, final spasm of unimaginable agony, his back bowing so far it seemed it would snap. Then he went limp, his consciousness finally succumbing to the overwhelming, world-shattering pain.
Zhang Tian stood there for a long moment, his chest heaving, the red haze of his rage slowly receding. He looked at the broken, bleeding, castrated form of the protagonist, and he felt… nothing. No satisfaction. No remorse. Only a cold, empty finality.
He released the vines. Tang San's ruined body fell to the ground in a heap.
He turned and walked away, back towards his two stunned friends, leaving behind a scene of brutal, absolute devastation and a silence that was more profound than any scream.
Chapter 42: A Father's RageThe clearing was a tomb of silence. The only sounds were the ragged, pained gasps of the unconscious and the rustle of leaves in a breeze that suddenly felt deathly cold. Zhang Tian stood over the broken form of Tang San, his face a placid mask, the storm of his rage having passed, leaving only a cold, chilling calm in its wake.
Then, the world changed.
"HOW DARE YOU HARM MY SON?!"
The voice was not a sound. It was a physical force, a cataclysmic roar that seemed to emanate from the very heart of the forest. It slammed into them, a shockwave of pure, unadulterated fury that made the ancient trees groan and the very air tremble.
An aura, so immense and oppressive it felt like the sky itself was collapsing, descended upon the clearing. It was a pressure that went beyond spirit power; it was the weight of a sorrowful, murderous will, the presence of a being that had once stood against the world and bled for it.
Elder Shi and Elder Li, the two powerful Spirit Douluos, felt it first. Their calm, professional demeanors shattered in an instant. Their faces went pale, and a jolt of pure, instinctual terror shot through them.
'This power… it's not a normal Titled Douluo!' Elder Shi thought, his mind reeling. 'This pressure… it's on par with the pressure from the Sword Douluo or The Bone Douluo! This individual…He is a Super Douluo! At least Level 95!'
Without a word, without a moment's hesitation, they moved. They flickered into existence, positioning themselves in front of Zhang Tian, Ning Rongrong, and Zhu Zhuqing, their own powerful auras flaring to life as they formed a desperate, protective barrier. They would stake their lives to protect the future of their sect.
From the deepest shadows of the forest, a figure emerged. He wore tattered, grimy robes, a crude hood concealing his face. He looked like a beggar, a vagrant. But the object he held in his right hand dispelled any such notion.
It was a hammer. A colossal, black hammer, its surface etched with intricate, domineering patterns. It radiated an aura of pure, tyrannical power, as if it were forged to shatter mountains and sunder the heavens.
And behind the man, nine spirit rings blazed into existence, a terrifying, mesmerizing halo of power. Two yellow. Two purple. Four black.
And one, the final, innermost ring, was the color of blood. A deep, pulsating, horrifying crimson. A hundred-thousand-year spirit ring.
The figure reached up and threw back his hood. The face revealed was haggard, lined with grief and rage, his eyes burning with an unholy light. It was Tang Hao.
"A brat like you," he growled, his voice a low, rumbling thunder, his burning gaze locking onto Zhang Tian. "You dare to try and kill my son. You are courting death."
On the sidelines, a wave of varied reactions swept through the Shrek contingent. Dai Mubai, who had just managed to sit up after vomiting, felt a surge of pure, malicious glee. He wiped his mouth, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face.
'I don't know who this monster is, but he's Tang San's father! Zhang Tian is dead! Absolutely, completely dead! Good! Let him be torn limb from limb!'
Ma Hongjun and Oscar just stared, their faces ashen with terror, their minds unable to process the sheer scale of power before them.
Flender and Zhao Wuji exchanged a grim, knowing look. They knew this man. They had felt a fraction of his wrath before.
Yu Xiaogang, however, was trembling with a different emotion. It was reverence. It was awe. It was the pure, unadulterated excitement of an academic seeing his life's greatest subject in the flesh. 'The Clear Sky Douluo! He's really here! This is perfect! Let him kill this arrogant brat! Let him avenge my disciple!'
The two Spirit Douluo elders, Shi and Li, recognized the hammer instantly. Their faces grew even graver. 'The Clear Sky Hammer. It's him. The legendary Clear Sky Douluo.'
Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing felt the crushing pressure and huddled closer to Zhang Tian, their faces pale with fear, their eyes wide with worry for his safety.
Amidst this storm of fear and fury, Zhang Tian remained an island of impossible calm. He even allowed a faint, mocking smile to touch his lips.
"A pity you arrived so late, Clear Sky Douluo," he said, his voice as level as a placid lake. "If you had been just a few moments sooner, you might have been able to save your son from being castrated."
The words were a fistful of salt rubbed directly into Tang Hao's gaping wound. The Titled Douluo's eyes blazed, and the pressure in the clearing intensified, the very ground beginning to crack under the strain.
"You will not live to see another sunrise," Tang Hao snarled, taking a step forward. "Not even two mere Spirit Douluos can save you from me."
"Hold him back for as long as you can!" Elder Shi hissed, preparing to unleash his own spirit. "Young Master Tian, take the Young Miss and her friend and run! We will buy you time!"
Zhang Tian simply raised a hand, a calm, placating gesture. "That won't be necessary, Elder Shi," he said, his voice never wavering. He looked directly at the fuming Titled Douluo, his blue eyes showing not a flicker of fear.
"Do you really think you can threaten me right now, Tang Hao?" he asked, his tone almost conversational.
And then, everyone saw it. A single, slender crimson vine, which had been lying inert and unnoticed on the ground, suddenly rose up. Clutched in its tip, like a macabre flower, was one of his black shotguns. The muzzle was pressed firmly against the temple of the unconscious Tang San.
The move was so subtle, so silent, that no one, not even the great Tang Hao, had seen it happen.
Tang Hao froze, his forward momentum arrested, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"Do you really think you can do that while being suppressed by me?!" he roared, his pride wounded. He focused his entire will, his immense spirit power and his terrifying mental force, into a single, crushing beam aimed directly at Zhang Tian.
A normal Spirit Grandmaster would have been forced to kneel on the ground with no way to even utilize his Martial Spirit.
Zhang Tian felt the pressure, a mountain crashing down on his soul. In his spiritual sea, Ah Yin acted instantly. 'Blood Silver Domain!'
The invisible power of the domain wrapped around Zhang Tian like a shield, deflecting and dispersing the worst of Tang Hao's mental and spiritual assault.
To the outside world, it looked as though Zhang Tian was enduring the full force of a Super Douluo's pressure without even flinching.
Another crimson vine sprouted from the ground, waving lazily in the air. "Is this suppressive effect of yours really that useful?" Zhang Tian asked, his voice laced with a cool amusement. "Are you still willing to risk it?"
Tang Hao's furious gaze shifted, locking onto Ning Rongrong and Zhu Zhuqing. A new, dark thought began to form in his mind. To take them as his hostages.
Before the thought could even fully coalesce, Zhang Tian's cold voice cut through the air, sharp as a shard of ice. "The last person who dared to threaten them was your son. You can see how that ended for him."
The words were a stark, brutal reminder. Tang Hao's gaze flickered back to the broken, bleeding form of his only child.
"I have known from the very beginning that he was your son," Zhang Tian continued, dropping another bombshell that made Flender and Zhao Wuji's blood run cold. He offered a plausible lie. "I witnessed you beating Teacher Zhao on the night of the entrance exam. I heard you tell him who you were."
He smiled, a cold, knowing expression. "You've been watching me for months, Tang Hao. Do you really think I am the kind of person who would take such a thoughtless action without making my own preparations?"
The statement struck Tang Hao with the force of a physical blow. He was still furious, but a sliver of cold, rational thought pierced through the red haze of his rage. He had observed this boy. He was intelligent. He was calculating. He was not one to act on pure impulse. This meant… this meant he had a contingency. A hand he had yet to play.
"If you dare to touch a single hair on Rongrong's or Zhuqing's head," Zhang Tian's voice dropped to a low, terrifying whisper, a promise of absolute annihilation, "then a message, already sent, will be received by the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect. A message detailing the location of a very special person."
He let the words hang in the air. "Your sister. Tang Yuehua. The sect will be instructed to capture her. And they will not be gentle. She will be tortured. She will be thrown into the lowest, filthiest brothel in Heaven Dou City, where dozens, perhaps hundreds, of men will use her, break her, until she screams out the location of your precious, hidden Clear Sky Sect."
He smiled, a chilling, predatory expression. "And then, the full might of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect, backed by the eager power of the Spirit Hall, will descend upon your clan. They will be exterminated. Every man, woman, and child. Wiped from the face of this continent."
"HOW DARE YOU?!" Tang Hao roared, the sound a pure, primal scream of rage and disbelief.
Zhang Tian just stared at him, his gaze unwavering. "So, I ask you again, Tang Hao. Are you willing to take that risk? To trade a moment of revenge for the complete and utter destruction of everything you have left? Your son dies. Your sister is defiled. Your clan is annihilated. Or… you let us walk away."
The choice was a cruel, impossible one. Tang Hao looked at the broken body of his son, his heart a gaping, bleeding wound. He looked at the calm, merciless boy who held all the cards. He was a Titled Douluo, a being who could shatter mountains. And he was completely, utterly powerless.
His massive shoulders slumped. The fire in his eyes dimmed, replaced by the cold, dead ash of defeat. "Scram," he growled, the word a physical effort, forced through gritted teeth.
"It would have been better if you had never arrived," Zhang Tian snorted. "But leaving is not so simple now. A brute like you could easily go back on his word. I can't be sure you won't attack us the moment I release my leverage."
He gestured to the unconscious Tang San. "So, he's coming with us."
Tang Hao's fury flared again. "You dare to ask for the impossible?!"
"Do I look like I'm asking?" Zhang Tian retorted. "And don't worry, I have no intention of killing him. If I did, he would have been dead long before you arrived."
He laid out his final terms. "We are going to Heaven Dou City. I will leave his body, and this broken arm, somewhere easily found within Suotuo City. You can retrieve him from there. It's the best deal you're going to get."
Tang Hao stared, his chest heaving, his hands clenching and unclenching on the haft of his massive hammer. Every instinct screamed at him to attack, to obliterate this insolent brat. But the cold, hard logic of the boy's threat was a chain around his neck. He could not risk it. He could not.
With a final, guttural snarl of pure hatred, he gave a single, jerky nod.
Zhang Tian didn't waste another second. A massive cocoon of Blood Silver Grass erupted from the ground, enveloping Tang San's broken body completely. The cocoon then rose into the air, hovering beside him.
He turned to his companions. "Let's go."
With the two Spirit Douluo elders flanking them, and the rest of the sect's guards materializing from the woods, they formed a tight, protective convoy and moved away, leaving the fuming Titled Douluo alone with his defeat.
Back in the woods, the moment they were gone, Tang Hao's control finally snapped. He let out a roar of pure, animalistic rage and began to destroy everything around him. Trees were pulverized into dust by his hammer, the very ground split open under the force of his blows. It was a tantrum of world-shaking proportions.
Flender and the others could only watch from a safe distance, their faces pale with terror.
Hours later, in the central plaza of Suotuo City, a gruesome spectacle was unveiled.
A naked, bleeding boy was tied to the central flagpole. His right arm was a mangled stump, and the bloody, jagged bone that had once been inside it was now sticking gruesomely out of his stomach. His groin was a swollen, bruised, bloody mess. He was unconscious, but his face was frozen in a silent scream of agony.
And at the base of the pole, a crudely written plaque had been placed for all to see.
"The son of the Clear Sky Douluo, Tang Hao. This is the price for daring to threaten the heiress of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect."
With their final, humiliating message delivered, Zhang Tian's group, without a moment's delay, boarded a series of luxurious, high-speed carriages and departed for Heaven Dou City.
It was several more hours before a cloaked, limping figure arrived in the plaza. Tang Hao saw the crowd of horrified onlookers. He saw the plaque. And he saw his son, his last hope, displayed like a piece of butchered meat for the world to see.
The last vestiges of his reason shattered.
A wave of black and red light exploded from him, a dome of pure, destructive power. Buildings crumbled. People screamed. The plaza of Suotuo City, and a significant portion of the surrounding city, was simply… erased.
He stood in the center of the crater he had created, the bodies of hundreds of innocent people strewn around him like broken dolls.
He gently took down the ruined body of his son, cradling him in his arms.
And then, with a final, sorrowful look at the devastation, he vanished, a ghost of grief and rage leaving a city of death in his wake.