Chapter 115: The Descent of the Asura God
Tang Chen had once gone in pursuit of an even higher realm. For many years, there had been no news of him at all—whether he was still alive, no one knew.
The Clear Sky Sect had been annihilated, and even its sect master, Tang Xiao, had died at Gui Mei's hands.
Now, in this world, the only one who still possessed the Clear Sky Hammer martial soul was very likely Tang San alone.
Back then, the Clear Sky Sect had been the number one sect on the continent, and the Clear Sky Hammer was revered as the strongest weapon-type martial soul.
Yet now, all of that former glory had vanished without a trace.
Thinking of this, Qian Daoliu could not help but sigh inwardly. His thoughts drifted far away, returning to that era when Tang Chen had shaken the entire Douluo Continent.
At that time, Tang Chen was like an insurmountable mountain, standing at the very peak of the soul master world—an existence admired by countless people.
With his own hands, he founded the Clear Sky Sect and elevated the Clear Sky Hammer to a height no one else could reach.
And yet, as time flowed on, that once peerless sect had fallen to such a tragic end.
Qian Daoliu came back to his senses from his memories, his heart filled with complex emotions.
"Tang Chen… Tang Chen… have you already found what you were seeking? If you were still here, the tragedy of the Clear Sky Sect's destruction would never have happened…"
Qian Daoliu knew that Tang San was currently in Spirit City.
Wanting to see Tang Chen's great-grandson for himself, he sent someone to bring Tang San to the Douluo Hall.
Led by a red-clad bishop, Tang San—supporting himself with a cane—walked forward with steps that were slightly unsteady, yet filled with stubborn resolve, as he entered the solemn and sacred Douluo Hall for the first time.
Soft, mysterious light filled the hall. A faint fragrance of incense lingered in the air, calming the mind, yet within that tranquility lay an indescribable sense of pressure.
Tang San swept his gaze across the hall until it finally settled on Qian Daoliu, who was dressed in a simple gray robe.
Qian Daoliu looked young, but his eyes were as deep as an abyss, shimmering with wisdom and the weight of countless years.
He stood there quietly, needing no deliberate action at all to naturally exude an aura that compelled reverence and awe.
"This junior, Tang San, greets Senior Qian. Due to my physical condition, I ask for your forgiveness if I am discourteous."
Tang San quickly bowed, his voice carrying both respect and a trace of unease.
When the red-clad bishop had come to find him, an ominous feeling had already risen in his heart—something must have happened to his uncle.
"Tang San, no need for formalities."
Qian Daoliu gently raised his hand, signaling him to rise.
His gaze fell upon the cane in Tang San's hand and the empty pant leg beside it, and a hint of pity flashed through his eyes.
Tang San was only a teenager, yet he had endured so many hardships and devastating blows.
Even so, he did not seem broken. In his eyes shone resilience and unyielding determination.
"Tang San, your great-grandfather Tang Chen is the person I have admired most in my entire life. His disappearance was an immeasurable loss to the soul master world. Today, although the Clear Sky Sect has suffered a catastrophic calamity, seeing you makes it feel as though I can glimpse its hope once more."
Hearing this, warmth surged through Tang San's heart—but that ominous premonition returned even stronger.
"This junior will cultivate diligently, restore the prestige of the Clear Sky Sect, and live up to my great-grandfather's aspirations."
Qian Daoliu nodded, a trace of approval flashing through his eyes.
"Good. You have ambition. The burden on your shoulders is heavy, but remember this—no matter when or where, you must always keep an unbreakable heart. I summoned you here today not only to see the descendant of an old acquaintance but also to tell you something…"
Qian Daoliu paused, his expression turning solemn.
Seeing this, Tang San hurriedly asked,
"Senior Qian, has something happened to my uncle? Please, speak plainly."
Qian Daoliu nodded slightly and said in a low voice,
"Tang Xiao… has already fallen in battle. Not only him—two Great Worshippers who accompanied him, Demon-Suppressing Douluo and Glowing Feather Douluo, have also perished."
At those words, Tang San's body swayed violently.
If not for the cane supporting him just in time, he would have collapsed to the ground on the spot.
"No… that's impossible…"
Tang San's lips trembled as he muttered to himself, his eyes filled with disbelief.
In his heart, his uncle was an invincible powerhouse—the pillar of the Clear Sky Sect, his strongest support.
He had heard his uncle speak of Demon-Suppressing Douluo and Glowing Feather Douluo before.
They were Great Worshippers of Spirit Hall, experts whose soul power had reached rank ninety-six—figures renowned throughout the soul master world.
And yet now, Qian Daoliu was telling him that his uncle and those two Great Worshippers had all fallen.
This sudden, devastating news was like a razor-sharp blade stabbing straight into Tang San's heart, leaving him in unbearable agony.
"Why… why did it have to turn out like this…?"
Tang San's voice suddenly rose, filled with boundless grief and anguish, echoing throughout the vast Douluo Hall.
His eyes reddened instantly, tears pooling at the corners, yet he clenched his teeth and forced them back, refusing to let them fall.
Watching Tang San's anguished state, a trace of pity surfaced in Qian Daoliu's heart.
He let out a soft sigh and said slowly,
"Tang San, I know this is a devastating blow for you. But the world of soul masters has always been cruel—life and death are unpredictable. I hope you can pull yourself together."
"Gui Mei… it was him and Yue Guan who killed my uncle?!"
Tang San suddenly lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot.
Qian Daoliu nodded faintly.
"Yes. It was Gui Mei. His current strength has already reached an unimaginable level."
After that, Qian Daoliu recounted the entire course of events to Tang San.
"Tang San, your great-grandfather has been missing for many years. Now, in this world, you may be the only one left who possesses the Clear Sky Hammer martial soul. You must pull yourself together—the glory of the Clear Sky Sect must be continued by you."
"Senior, thank you for telling me all this, and thank you for your encouragement. I won't be crushed by this pain, nor will I show them weakness! I will definitely stand back up—even if I die, I'll die standing!"
Tang San ground his teeth, his eyes blazing with unwavering determination.
He treated every hardship as a trial, turning them into fuel to push himself forward.
From him, Qian Daoliu saw traces of Tang Chen's shadow, and a hint of relief flashed through his eyes.
"Tang San, what are your plans next? Do you need me to arrange for someone to escort you to Heaven Dou City?"
"I want to stay in Spirit City for a few days before deciding. Is that alright?"
"Of course. If you need anything, just say the word."
"Alright. Thank you."
After speaking, Tang San supported himself with his cane and limped out of the Douluo Hall.
Later, he contacted Yu Xiaogang.
When master and disciple met again, Tang San told him the news of Tang Xiao's death.
The two embraced each other and wept bitterly.
"Teacher… even my uncle died at Gui Mei's hands. What should I do now…?"
Only in front of his teacher did Tang San dare to reveal his fragile side, freely venting the pain buried deep in his heart.
"Xiao San, you must pull yourself together. As long as you are still alive, the Clear Sky Hammer still exists, and there is still hope to rebuild the Clear Sky Sect. Don't forget—you are protected by divine power. Your future achievements will be beyond measure."
Yu Xiaogang was also heartbroken, unsure of how to comfort Tang San.
He felt that his own life was already miserable enough, yet Tang San's fate was even crueler.
All he could do was rely on that mysterious divine power to help Tang San maintain faith and hope.
Late at night, all was silent.
Tang San felt no trace of sleepiness.
After steadying his emotions, he sat cross-legged on the bed, closed his eyes, and focused his mind, once more sinking into the sea of consciousness.
"Are you truly a god? Why do you save me time and time again, yet refuse to show yourself?"
Tang San tried once more to search through that vast, boundless space for the source of the mysterious power.
He had attempted this many times before, yet never received a response.
"Tang San… are you ready?"
Suddenly, an ethereal voice rang out—seemingly from the depths of his soul, carrying an ancient and mysterious power.
Only the voice could be heard; the speaker could not be seen.
Tang San's heart jolted violently.
"I'm ready! May I ask… who are you?"
The ethereal voice sounded once again:
"I am the Asura God of the God Realm!"
End of Chapter