Yu Yuanzhen staggered out through the heavy doors of the council hall, his whole frame bowed as if his spine had been pulled out. The awe-inspiring Thunder Douluo was gone—only a pale, empty-faced old man remained, mourning with regret, his hair whiter as though a decade had passed overnight. He gazed vacantly into the distance, where, at the edge of the poisonous mists, a silent figure stood—his brother, Yu Luomian, his back turned, watching the swirling emerald haze.
Yu Yuanzhen was about to speak but could not bring himself to utter a sound. Eventually, he stumbled toward Yu Luomian, his tired steps unnaturally loud in the deathly silence.
Though he heard the footsteps, Yu Luomian didn't turn; instead, he tossed a heavy wine jug over his shoulder. Instinctively, Yu Yuanzhen caught it, pulled the cork, and drank deeply. The burning liquor scorched his throat but could not warm his cold hands or heart. Two blurred tears spilled, mixing with the wine and soaking his once-glorious robe.
"Second Brother…"
Yu Yuanzhen's voice was hoarse and trembling with suppressed sobs. "I was wrong… truly… truly regretful…"
Yet, faced with total ruin, even the sincerest regret felt empty and powerless.
Yu Luomian, still facing away, replied in a voice utterly cold: "There's no point talking about this now." He fell silent, gazing through the layers of poisonous green mist as if he could see their enemies waiting in full battle formation beyond.
"The members of the Body Sect have surrounded us but not attacked. I don't know what they're waiting for, but it's definitely not a game of cat and mouse."
There was a faint pain in Yu Luomian's voice. "Their goal… is not only the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan Clan. I suspect they want even more."
He left it unsaid, but Yu Yuanzhen understood—the Body Sect's present tactics echoed those which Blue Lightning once used to expand their own power, ruthlessly preying on smaller clans. Back then, they were cruel "cats" toying with their prey; now the roles were reversed, and they themselves were "fish" awaiting slaughter.
"Truly… the wheel of destiny turns…" Yu Yuanzhen set the jug down, wiping his face with a bitter, uglier-than-crying smile. "The Clan ruled the continent for millennia, known for our might… Who could imagine such an ending?"
"So," Yu Luomian finally turned, his face extremely grave, "the time has come for you to atone."
"Don't forget, even Ning Fengzhi was willing to sacrifice himself for his clan."
Yu Yuanzhen froze, his drunkenness instantly dissipating. He realized that his brother was urging him to fight the Body Sect's experts in a desperate battle—not to win, but to die in exchange for opening a narrow escape for the others and to make some restitution for his grave mistakes, to ease the clan's hatred and despair.
"I—" Yu Yuanzhen tried to speak, choking. Meeting Yu Luomian's cold eyes, feeling the collective gaze of the clan, he realized he didn't even have the strength to refuse.
"Ahh!"
"Help!"
"No—!"
Just then, desperate, terrified screams rang out from the suburbs of Thunder Dragon Valley—so loud they pierced the poisonous mists and stabbed through the hearts of every Ba Clan cult member. Shortly after, a nauseating stench of blood, mingled with the sharp, sweet tang of poison, filled the air, overwhelming even the toxic haze.
"What's going on?!"
"What… what happened outside?!"
"Are those… our clansmen?!"
The remaining elders hurried to the edge of the poison, peering in the direction of the cries.
What they saw next made their blood freeze.
Beyond the poisonous fog, the open ground had been turned into a slaughterhouse. Groups of prisoners were bound, pushed to the ground, faces twisted in terror and despair. Not far away lay dozens of headless corpses, blood pooling and staining the ground deep red. The disciples of the Body Sect methodically pinned down each new batch of captives, their blades glinting coldly as they prepared to execute them.
What truly terrified the elders, however, was not just the mass killing—it was that the black-clad men were dragging the bodies (or rather, the mangled remains) to the square before Thunder Dragon Valley, arranging them in layers upon layers. They were literally paving a blood-soaked road to the valley gates with fragments of Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan Clan corpses!
"Body Sect—!"
An old man with bristling hair and a beard howled, voice cracking with grief and rage. "How, how could you do this! Killing women and children, trampling life like this! You're making enemies of every soul master on the continent!"
His howls carried through the mists, answered only by a dry, mocking snort. "Innocent? Enemies of the continent? Ridiculous! For five generations, these people enjoyed the power, wealth, and bloodline of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Clan. Did they ever feel innocent then?"
Carrying the fruit of this bloodline is the inevitable price for the Tyrant Clan's destruction.
Dugu Bo's voice was as cold as the judgment of hell. "This is the consequence of provoking the Body Sect. Let all in the world remember this lesson!"
"Dugu Bo—!"
Yu Yuanzhen, eyes bloodshot, rushed to the edge of the fog and stared at the vaguely visible shadow outside. "You old poisoner! We may have known each other for years, but we were never true friends… Still, aren't you moved by old ties?!"
"Old friends?" Dugu Bo snorted. "Yu Yuanzhen, what were we to each other? Your clan was always proud and arrogant, never gave me a glance! Now you're nothing but a worm awaiting the heel."
He paused, tone turning even colder, "So now, don't seek connections. Instead, wash your neck clean—just wait… and die."
"Fine! Fine! Fine!" Yu Yuanzhen quivered with rage, veins bulging. He abruptly turned to dash back inside, clearly ready for a last stand.
Meanwhile, outside the mists, Dugu Bo didn't spare the valley a single glance. He turned instead to his people, commanding, "Keep it clean. Drain all the blood, spread the remains neatly. Only then can we properly appreciate such a bountiful gift to the rivers and hills."
"Yes, Elder Dugu!" the steward bowed, continuing to oversee the grisly paving project.
"Damn... damn!"
"Demons! Beasts!"
"Clan head! What have you done, bringing doom upon our whole family?!"
"What do we do now? Just wait here to die?!"
"Clan head! Give the order! Speak!"
Their wails and curses stabbed at what little reason remained.
Just then, a barrage of dazzling light streaked over from the direction of the Body Sect, descending toward Thunder Dragon Valley with amazing speed, bringing with them an invisible tsunami of pressure.
At the lead was a radiant streak of purple-gold lightning, crackling so ferociously it seemed to slice the air itself. Where it passed, the very atmosphere hummed, leaving behind a lasting trail.
One after another, these streams of light landed meteor-like before Thunder Dragon Valley. As the light faded, a figure in simple purple-gold robes emerged: tall, straight-backed, face more chiseled than before retirement. Each time his eyes opened and closed, purple-gold lightning flashed—this was Chen Yi.
He was joined by Golden Body Douluo Chen Zhen and Blazing Heart Douluo Xie Xiaoqing. Beside Chen Zhen stood Zhu Hai, once a formidable master, now apparently recovered and improved, his presence refined though somewhat suppressed, sharply different from his previous arrogance.
"Greetings, young sect master."
Dugu Bo, Yang Wudi, Yang Wushuang, and Niu Gao, responsible for the siege, hurried forward to welcome Chen Yi. But as they drew closer, their faces changed—an overwhelming sense of deadly crisis rose inexplicably, chilling their spines. For the first time, these seasoned Titled Douluo realized that, in the presence of Chen Yi—a still-young Soul Sage—the gap between ranks was not just a shallow ditch, but an unbridgeable chasm.
Chen Yi nodded calmly, "Elders, please rise. Thank you all for your hard work."
He peered into the wide gorge, now completely engulfed in poisonous fog. Even through the layers of toxic green, one could sense the utter despair within.
Dugu Bo recovered first, stepping forward. "Young sect master, rest assured. My Jade Phosphorous Exotic Flower Mist has been laid out for seven days. Nothing, not even birds or squirrels, could escape that valley."
He did not even dare call Chen Yi by name now—at this moment, Chen Yi stood above all in both power and position.
Xie Xiaoqing snorted coldly, eyes full of killing intent. "Let's finish this ignorant rabble immediately and end this mess."
Chen Yi slowly looked at all the elders, his gaze finally landing on Yang Wushuang. "How long until the culprits arrive for judgment?"
Yang Wushuang calculated quickly. "Reporting to young sect master, the journey from Heaven Dou City with the escort is not short, and most of the prisoners are crippled, so speed is limited. At the soonest… they'll arrive by sunrise."
Chen Yi nodded. "Then let's allow them to see the sun one last time tomorrow."
He looked up at the perpetual thunderclouds above the valley, then turned and walked toward the temporary camp.
…
Inside the swirling emerald mists, the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan disciples suffered even more. The terrifying aura from arrayed Titled Douluo outside pressed inward, suffocating anyone inside. Despair spread through the valley like a plague—cries, curses, desperate prayers, mental breakdowns—all tangled together, turning the ancestral stronghold into a living hell.
Some collapsed to the ground, unable to escape or resist, left only to wait, numb and hopeless, for their fate. Every second crawled painfully by as fear and anticipation stretched time into an agony. No one could sleep that night.
At dawn, a ray of sword-light sliced through the chill, descending in front of the camp. The light faded, revealing Vice Dean Qing Yun and the Heaven Dou guards—with a procession of prisoners trailing behind, connected by special soul-conducting chains, dragged like livestock.
Seeing Qing Yun and her group arrive with the captives, the Body Sect members who had waited all night beamed with satisfaction. All eyes, however, unconsciously fell upon one man—his face deeply sunken on both sides, both knees obviously crippled, shifting only by dragging himself along the ground, a look of madness and rage appearing at intervals. Behind him was a short gray tail dragging in the dust.
Qing Yun offered a small smile to Chen Yi and the others, already waiting outside the tent. "Young sect master, elders, the main perpetrator and all related parties have been brought as ordered."