Looking at Bibi Dong, whose head was hanging low, a trace of regret showed on Li Zhexian's face.
"What a pity…"
His voice, faint as a dream murmur, fell softly.
The sinister bloodlight around his body ebbed away like a receding tide.
And then—
a bone-chilling sight appeared.
Fine cracks spread outward from Li Zhexian's body, blooming from within.
No blood seeped out.
Through those countless jagged cracks,
one could see his flesh had already turned withered gray-white.
Bang—
Li Zhexian fell backward stiffly.
Several deeper cracks split his already broken body wide open.
"Li Zhexian!!!"
Qian Renxue, Zhu Zhuqing, and the others rushed toward him like madmen.
But at that very moment—
from beneath the head-hung, seemingly lifeless Bibi Dong,
rings of Spirit Rings began to rise.
Especially that ninth, scarlet hundred-thousand-year Spirit Ring—
which suddenly burst forth with a blinding bloody light.
The four Titled Douluo's expressions changed drastically.
"This place is too dangerous!"
"Go!"
Their wide sleeves swept out, rolling up several academy teams in a wave of vast Spirit Power, carrying them away like streaks of light.
Amidst the chaos—
A Heaven Dou City Spirit Master staggered to his feet from among the corpses.
He held aloft a blood-stained paper and shouted hoarsely:
"Honored Douluo! Please take me!"
"I am the Heavenly Dou City Spirit Master who records the deeds of Lord Sword Wine!"
Just as the lingering poisonous mist was about to disperse—
A green serpent's shadow coiled around his waist, yanking him from the deadly ground.
In an instant—
The bloodstained, ruined square was left empty.
Ghost Douluo and Chrysanthemum Douluo scrambled out from the shattered mountainside.
The Spirit Masters of Spirit Hall recoiled in horror as they saw—
Two pale hands pushed their way out of Bibi Dong's mouth.
Riiip—!
The sickening tear of flesh and skin rang out.
Thick, viscous fluid poured out as a figure clawed its way free: its lower body bore eight sharp spider legs, its face deathly pale and cruelly beautiful, twisted in venomous hate.
"Li… Zhe… Xian…"
A shrill, piercing screech—
not a sound any human could make!
In the distance, Tang San's whole body bristled with cold sweat.
Horror gripped him as he realized—
The resurrected Bibi Dong's gaze was fixed on him.
But at that moment—
A tall figure cloaked in black robes appeared out of thin air.
The moment he revealed himself,
Bibi Dong's venomous gaze faltered, a flicker of fear flashing across her eyes.
The black-robed man cast a cold glance at the mountain's peak,
then growled low at Tang San:
"Go!"
As his voice fell, the two figures had already vanished from the spot.
Seeing her targets escape one after another, Bibi Dong's purple eyes filled with black miasma.
She threw back her head and unleashed a sky-splitting, ear-rending scream:
"Mobilize all Spirit Hall Spirit Masters!"
"Li Zhexian…"
"Dead or alive, I must have him!"
—
A hundred miles outside Spirit City, in a deep, secluded valley.
Looking at Li Zhexian's brocken body, covered in cracks like a weathered pottery figurine, a sorrow so deep it couldn't be dissolved pressed heavily on everyone's heart.
Uncontrollable sobbing echoed low in the silent mountain forest.
"Damn Spirit Hall!" Yu Tianheng's eyes were bloodshot as he slammed his fist into a tree trunk.
Huo Wu, Huo Wushuang, Feng Xiaotian and the others clenched their fists, their bodies trembling faintly with rage and sorrow.
Dugu Yan and Ning Rongrong collapsed to their knees at his side.
They looked upon Li Zhexian's lifeless face, tears flooding out uncontrollably, nearly fainting from grief.
Ye Lingling, despite her Spirit Powerutterly exhausted, forced the healing light of the Nine-Hearted Begonia onto Li Zhexian's body—
but it was like a stone sinking into the sea, no trace of improvement at all.
Qian Renxue and Zhu Zhuqing sat like empty shells, soulless, staring blankly at Li Zhexian.
Their eyes had no more life in them.
"I… we… we'll take him to my mother…"
Ye Lingling's voice was hoarse,
carrying the last thread of desperate hope.
"My mother… she must be able to save Li Zhexian!"
A faint glimmer of hope flickered in everyone's eyes.
But Dugu Bo shook his head, his rasping voice trembling:
"No… it's impossible…"
"Leaving aside the long journey—"
"Even the Nine-Hearted Begonia cannot save a body whose oil has run out and lamp is extinguished."
The phrase "oil has run out and lamp is extinguished" made everyone's faces show deep sadness.
Yu Yuanzhen frowned and said: "Old Poison, medicine and poison are connected. Look at Zhexian again..."
One by one, gazes turned to Dugu Bo.
He remained silent for a long while, before finally forcing out a harsh reply from his throat:
"This old man… can do nothing."
If even Poison Douluo, whose poison arts reigned supreme across the continent,
was helpless—
then all hope seemed lost.
In the corner—
the Spirit Master of Heaven Dou City gritted his teeth,
his hand trembling as he continued to record.
Just as this suffocating despair made everyone mourn deeply, Feng Bailong's low voice broke the deathly stillness: "Theoretically speaking…"
"With such injuries, young friend Zhexian should have long since…"
"Why then does this faint breath, frail as a candle in the wind, still linger without going out?"
Sword Douluo Chen Xin's eyes sharpened at the words.
This Sword Douluo, always so decisive and fierce,
at this moment moved with rare, careful caution.
He gently lifted open Li Zhexian's bloodstained robes at the chest.
There—
A pure white feather, glowing softly,
lay quietly upon Li Zhexian's heart.
"This is…"
"Angel's Sacred Feather?!"
"A holy relic that shields life itself?!"
The four Titled Douluo, so well-traveled and knowledgeable,
were struck with awe.
All gazes turned then toward the golden-haired girl wreathed in death's aura.
After the battle, they already knew—
This was the legendary Angel Martial Soul, tied closely to the Spirit Hall's Qian Clan.
But now was not the time to question.
"The Angel's Sacred Feather can only preserve Zhexian's breath for a while longer…"
Chen Xin's voice was grave:
"What else can we do?!"
"What way is there to save young friend Zhexian?!"
Dugu Bo's voice cracked with desperation.
After a pause of thought,
he grabbed the treasure pouch from Li Zhexian's waist.
The Wishful Hundred Treasure Purse, the Dugu family's storage treasure—naturally he could open it.
"I once discussed countless rare herbs with young friend Zhexian…"
"Quickly, let's see if this pouch holds some immortal herb that can revive the dead and regrow flesh from bone!"
Amid such wretched despair,
that pouch became the last straw of hope.
In everyone's eyes, the faint flame of hope flickered back to life.
Yet—
As Dugu Bo took out one item after another, only to set them aside…
The aura around him grew ever colder.
His face turned grayer and grayer.
And just as the suffocating despair crushed everyone's hearts to pieces—
Zhu Zhuqing, who had remained silent like a shadow all along, slowly, with utmost care, drew out a single flower from her arms.
That flower…
Stained with long-dried, dark red blood.
In her pale hands,
it seemed unbearably vivid.
Her once lifeless, hollow eyes now held the faintest fragile light.
Zhu Zhuqing's voice was soft as she held the bloodstained flower in both hands, offering it to Dugu Bo: "Senior Dugu…"
"Please look at this immortal herb…"
"…Can it save Li Zhexian?"
"Hm?!"
"This is…"
A sharp gleam shot from Dugu Bo's green vertical pupils.
Zhu Zhuqing's slender hand caressed the petals.
"Yearning Heartbroken Red…"