Chapter 34 – The Death of Qian Xunji
"Hmph. You think I wouldn't dare?"
Qian Xunji snorted coldly, forcing himself to endure the searing torment gnawing at his soul. With a subtle glance, he signaled Ghost Douluo behind him.
Ghost Douluo instantly understood, nodding once before fading silently into the shadows.
Bibi Dong watched every motion, her eyes colder than ice.
Originally, she had planned to let Qian Xunji suffer longer—to let the soul-devouring poison insects feast on him bit by bit. But now, it seemed she would have to grant him a quicker death.
Her thoughts sank into a secret mental chant, linking directly to the Soul-Devouring Worm that lurked within his soul.
At her command, the hidden parasite went wild, violently tearing at its host's soul.
"AAAHHHHH!!!"
The agony Qian Xunji had barely been enduring erupted beyond control. He shrieked as though being flayed alive, clutching his head and collapsing to the ground, his screams echoing through the stone corridor.
Chrysanthemum Douluo and Ghost Douluo, horrified by the sudden outburst, turned pale.
"Saintess," Yue Guan shouted anxiously, "please, don't be reckless! Withdraw your hand at once—or else—"
Bibi Dong didn't even glance at him. Her gaze remained fixed on the writhing figure of her former teacher, her expression blank but her eyes glittering with cruel satisfaction.
"Saintess!"
Just as Yue Guan was about to intervene, Qian Xunji's screams abruptly stopped. His body froze mid-convulsion… then fell still.
Silence.
Chrysanthemum Douluo and Ghost Douluo stared in disbelief. As Titled Douluo, they could instantly sense life and death—and Qian Xunji's life force had completely vanished.
He was dead.
The great Pope of Spirit Hall… reduced to a lifeless corpse before their eyes.
Then, from the ornate crown on his head, a strange, round black egg slowly floated upward.
Crack—
The egg split apart, and from within emerged a butterfly—a creature shimmering with eerie black-purple light.
The spectral butterfly fluttered gently through the air, landing in Bibi Dong's waiting hand.
Expressionless, she studied it for a moment before lifting it to her forehead.
The butterfly slipped into her skin, disappearing between her brows without a trace.
At once, a wave of sinister energy surged outward. Dark-purple light burst from her body, rippling across the chamber like the whisper of a thousand vengeful spirits.
The Rakshasa God's Trial had begun.
"So this… is what it feels like to devour the Angel," Bibi Dong murmured, her lips curving into a dark smile. "What a disgusting power—just like those self-righteous hypocrites who wield it."
The overwhelming aura of malice rolling off her made even Chrysanthemum Douluo and Ghost Douluo instinctively retreat several steps. Terror flickered in their eyes.
"Y-you…" Chrysanthemum Douluo began, voice trembling.
Bibi Dong ignored them. Her attention had already shifted—to the Gold Saint Cloth lying beside Qian Xunji's corpse.
Now that its master's soul had dissipated, the armor had reverted to its dormant form: a gleaming golden ram statue.
This armor had allowed Qian Xunji to unleash terrifying power even when his soul power was sealed. Clearly, it was no ordinary relic.
'Could it be used by me as well?' she wondered.
As she reached out toward the golden armor, it suddenly transformed into a streak of radiant light and shot out of the prison, soaring toward the direction of the Douluo Hall.
Bibi Dong frowned slightly. The armor's escape was displeasing, but it also deepened her curiosity toward its other wielder—Lin Beiya.
Still, that wasn't her most pressing concern.
Right now, her very survival depended on one man's decision—Qian Daoliu.
The surge of evil power from her Rakshasa awakening hadn't gone unnoticed.
Moments later, a golden light split the heavens. The old man himself appeared before them, his presence weighing on the air like divine judgment.
Chrysanthemum Douluo and Ghost Douluo instantly knelt, their faces pale. The Pope had died under their watch—they knew there would be no easy forgiveness.
"Grand Worship…" Yue Guan began shakily.
Qian Daoliu ignored him. His sharp gaze fell upon the corpse of Qian Xunji—and his pupils contracted violently.
A cold, boundless fury erupted within him.
Even if his son had been a disappointment, a failure… he was still his blood. And before Qian Renxue matured, Qian Xunji had still been a key piece in his plans.
Now, that piece had been shattered.
"You… did this?" Qian Daoliu's voice was low, but each word carried the weight of divine wrath.
Bibi Dong met his gaze without fear.
"Yes," she said evenly. "I did. Why? Wasn't it what he deserved?"
There was no trembling in her voice, no plea for mercy.
At that moment, she felt neither guilt nor regret. Living or dying didn't matter anymore.
She had taken her revenge.
The sinner who had ruined her life had been swallowed whole by her own hands.
Even if she perished here and now, there would be no regrets.
Qian Daoliu's eyes flickered with complex emotions. As the High Priest of the Angel God, he was all too familiar with divine energy—and the aura radiating from Bibi Dong was unmistakably that of a god's successor.
However, that didn't stop the killing intent rising in his heart. The darkness swirling around her was the complete antithesis of the Angel God's light—pure, blasphemous evil.
What held him back was a single thing—Bibi Dong's identity as Qian Renxue's mother.
He had raised Renxue since she was a child. He knew exactly how deeply that girl yearned for her mother's recognition.
A long silence followed. Qian Daoliu's expression hardened as his internal struggle subsided.
Finally, his gaze turned cold.
"The position of Pope will be temporarily entrusted to you," he said flatly. "To the outside world, it will be announced that the former Pope was mortally wounded by Tang Hao of the Clear Sky Sect during a soul beast hunt."
With a single motion of his hand, Qian Daoliu lifted Qian Xunji's corpse from the floor. Then, without another word, he turned and vanished from the prison cell, leaving behind only Bibi Dong—and the two nervous Titled Douluo, Chrysanthemum and Ghost.
For a long moment, none of them spoke.
Then Bibi Dong laughed coldly, her lips curling with disdain.
The so-called Angel Clan… still as hypocritical as ever.
He couldn't even avenge his own son's death—instead, he pushed the blame onto the Clear Sky Sect to preserve his own sanctimonious image. Disgusting.
Still, this arrangement suited her perfectly.
With this, she could consolidate her position and quietly amass strength… until the day she could eradicate the Angel Clan.
"Saintess—no," Chrysanthemum Douluo quickly corrected himself, bowing deeply. "Your Holiness, Pope!"
"Pope Your Majesty!" Ghost Douluo followed, lowering his head in submission.
Seeing their immediate compliance, Bibi Dong gave a faint nod of satisfaction.
"Good. You both have performed your duties faithfully. I will not pursue past matters. Once I ascend to the position of Pope, I'll still rely on your support."
The two Titled Douluo exhaled in relief. What they feared most was retribution—if Bibi Dong decided to settle old scores, even they might not survive.
But it seemed she was far more pragmatic than vindictive.
"Of course, Your Holiness," Chrysanthemum Douluo said with a forced smile. "You can count on us both."
Ghost Douluo nodded solemnly. "We'll serve you with all our strength."
After all, even Qian Daoliu had already spoken. They'd be foolish to oppose her now—especially after witnessing how Qian Xunji had been reduced to a soulless shell.
A streak of golden light suddenly flashed across the sky, streaking toward the Douluo Hall, before descending into the training grounds.
Lin Beiya, who had been sparring with Lei Ying, froze as the light dove into his body. His expression darkened instantly.
He knew what this meant.
The Gold Saint Cloth had returned to him on its own.
And for that to happen… it could only mean one thing—Qian Xunji was dead.
Seeing Lin Beiya's sudden stillness and grim expression, Lei Ying blinked in confusion.
"What's wrong, Beiya?"
Lin Beiya shook his head, withdrawing his soul power as the golden glow around him faded. Clearly, he had no intention of continuing the spar.
His eyes shifted to a distant figure—Qian Renxue, the little angel who stood distracted, lost in thought.
He hesitated for a long time before finally speaking. There was no point hiding it anymore.
"Xue'er."
"Huh? What is it?"
Startled by his serious tone, Qian Renxue turned her gaze toward him.
"Go to the High Priest," Lin Beiya said quietly. "Something's happened… to the Pope."
"What?"
"Impossible!"
Both Qian Renxue and Lei Ying gasped in shock, disbelief written all over their faces.
"Beiya—how do you know something happened to my father?" Qian Renxue asked urgently. Panic was beginning to color her voice.
Without answering, Lin Beiya simply raised his hand. A brilliant golden light flared around him as the Gold Saint Cloth materialized once more.
The familiar shape—the same armor her father had worn—made Qian Renxue's eyes widen in horror.
There was only one reason the Gold Saint Cloth would have returned to Lin Beiya.
Her father… had fallen.
Realization struck her like a bolt of lightning. Without another word, Qian Renxue turned and bolted toward the Angel Temple, her heart pounding.
She needed to see her grandfather—she needed to know what had happened.
—
End of Chapter