He took a deep breath and said heavily,
"Although Qian Renshang is dead, the lives of our brothers will never return."
His voice was filled with deep resentment and helplessness.
That helplessness was like the cold wind of late autumn, blowing through his heart, bringing endless sorrow.
Qian Daoliu raised his head, looking at the night sky, and sighed,
"This is the calamity of the Spirit Hall, but we cannot fall here."
His voice echoed in the night sky, carrying a sense of determination and unyielding spirit.
Lion Douluo slowly came back to his senses, his eyes still filled with pain:
"But Qian Renshang's death can be considered as avenging our brothers."
Golden Crocodile Douluo nodded, a hint of ruthlessness in his tone:
"If it weren't for him, we wouldn't be in this situation.
But this hatred is far from over."
The three remained silent, only the sound of burning paper money was particularly clear in the quiet night.
The sound of burning seemed like the whispers of fallen brothers, expressing their resentment and longing.
Just then, Qian Daoliu suddenly looked up at the distant Angel Temple, his brow furrowing slightly.
His already grave expression was now filled with doubt and vigilance. His gaze was like a sharp sword, trying to pierce the darkness and find the source of that strangeness.
Golden Crocodile Douluo immediately asked,
"Boss, what are you looking at? Is something wrong?"
His voice carried a hint of tension and unease.
Qian Daoliu pondered for a moment, then shook his head and said,
"Nothing, it's probably just an illusion.
With me in the Angel Temple, who could approach silently?"
His words were firm, but the lingering doubt in his heart remained.
Golden Crocodile Douluo was still suspicious, saying,
"Perhaps you're overthinking it? In this situation, we can't be paranoid."
Qian Daoliu's gaze remained fixed on the direction of the Angel Temple as he slowly said,
"I hope I'm just overthinking it, but for some reason, for a moment just now, I had a strange feeling in my heart."
The Lion Douluo spoke,
"Perhaps you're too tired and are having an illusion."
Qian Daoliu was silent for a moment, then said,
"Maybe, but we still can't let our guard down."
The three fell into a brief silence again.
In the night wind, the flames of the burning paper money danced even more violently, as if dancing for the departed lives.
At the same time, beside the Angel Temple, a figure slowly emerged from the darkness.
He wore a black robe, had blond hair and blue eyes, but his face was expressionless, chillingly cold—it was Qian Renshang.
Moonlight shone on him, but it couldn't warm his icy aura.
His eyes were like the water of a frozen pool, deep and ruthless. Qian Renshang stood there quietly, like a demon god from the abyss of darkness.
The surrounding air seemed to freeze because of his appearance, the silence filled with a suffocating oppression.
He slightly raised his head, looking at the top of the Angel Temple, a barely perceptible cold smile playing on his lips.
His hands hung at his sides, clenched into fists, as if he was trying his best to suppress some intense emotion within him.
The black robes swayed gently in the night wind, making a soft rustling sound, adding to the mystery and eeriness.
He stared blankly at the angel statue before him.
"Is this what they call a god?"
"Heh...not much to look at!"
Qian Renshang extended a finger, and a dense dark power erupted instantly, surging forth like a black torrent.
That dark power carried endless chill and an aura of destruction, then slowly merged into the angel statue.
The angel statue's eyes seemed to light up, flashing with dazzling black light, as if imbued with an evil life.
The once sacred and solemn angel statue now exuded a chilling aura, a stark contrast to its former light and holiness.
Qian Renshang's face remained expressionless, but his eyes revealed a hint of madness and resolve.
He murmured, "Let all this fall into chaos.
This is just my first act of revenge..."
"You made me despair, so I will give you despair in return. You forced me to this!!"
The surrounding space seemed to be distorted by this dark power, and the wind became mournful.
Qian Renshang stood there quietly, watching the angel statue being corrupted by the dark power, as if waiting for something.
However, things quickly returned to normal, and the angel statue seemed as if nothing had happened.
Having done all this, Qian Renshang stared intently at the angel statue, a slight, utterly contemptuous smile playing on his lips.
That smile seemed to be a merciless mockery of this so-called sacred symbol; his eyes were filled with disdain and defiance, as if declaring his fearlessness to this seemingly inviolable statue.
Then, his body began to slowly merge with the surrounding darkness.
His figure became ethereal, as ethereal as smoke.
The darkness seemed to come alive, gently enveloping him, gradually devouring his outline.
Qian Renshang offered no resistance, instead actively welcoming the embrace of darkness.
His aura gradually faded until it completely disappeared, as if merging into the endless night, leaving no trace.
The empty angel temple returned to its tranquility, with only the flickering candlelight bearing witness to the passage of time.
However, the sudden surge of darkness just moments before was like an undercurrent beneath a calm lake, foreshadowing an impending cataclysmic storm.
Almost immediately after Qian Renshang left, a figure entered the Angel Temple.
The newcomer, clad in a golden robe, with golden hair and blue eyes, appeared exceptionally holy and beautiful—it was Qian Renxue!
Her face was exquisitely beautiful, her skin as white as snow, and her long golden hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, shimmering with a soft light.
Her bright eyes, which held majesty and wisdom, now carried a hint of doubt and wariness.
Qian Renxue stepped into the temple and immediately sensed an unusual aura.
Her delicate brows furrowed slightly as she looked around, her gaze finally settling on the angel statue.
"There seems to be an unusual power fluctuation here. What's going on?"
She murmured softly, her voice clear and melodious.
Qian Renxue slowly approached the statue, extending her jade-like hand to gently touch it, attempting to sense the lingering mysterious power.
Her gaze grew increasingly solemn as she pondered the source and intent of this power.
aThe flickering candlelight in the hall cast a long shadow of her, adding to the mysterious atmosphere.
Ultimately, Qian Renxue found nothing.
Standing before the angel statue, her brows furrowed, she carefully sensed every fluctuation of soul power around her, but still found nothing.
She shook her head helplessly, a hint of doubt flashing across her beautiful face, and murmured to herself,
"Could it really be my imagination?
But that strange feeling was so clear, and… that familiar aura actually connected me to him." "
But… isn't he already dead?"
(End of Chapter)
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