The word "fallen" split the air like twin bolts of lightning, shattering the solemn silence of the altar. The smile that had just appeared on Qian Daoliu's face froze instantly, vanishing at a speed visible to the naked eye, replaced by a steely mask, and then sinking into a cold, bottomless gloom. The originally gentle and sacred aura enveloping him became wild and uncontrollable, and it felt as if the entire altar dimmed for a moment.
Across the altar, expressions changed dramatically. Lion Douluo's beard bristled, Fifteen Ton Douluo and the Falling Devil Douluo glared in anger, and Azure Luan and the Golden Crocodile's eyes were filled with shock and rage.
The Angel God was their faith, the root and pride of both the Qian clan and the Spirit Hall. Yet, here, in this hallowed hall before the idol of the Angel God, this youth had calmly uttered the blasphemous word—"fallen."
How dare he!?
Chu Shanhe and the Grand Elder's eyes flashed, but they didn't intervene, simply steadying their breathing and preparing for whatever conflict might erupt. They knew Chen Yi's words weren't uttered carelessly.
Chen Yi stood quietly, seemingly unfazed by the crushing pressure and murderous glares, gazing up at the idol. Behind the longing in his eyes was a layer of complex, unfathomable sorrow.
Qian Daoliu's voice was like a blade of ice that had been honed for ten thousand years, every syllable laced with stabbing cold and barely contained fury.
"Young Sect Master Chen Yi, do you understand what you're saying?"
The air in the altar froze in an instant, the heavy pressure pressing down on everyone's hearts like a real mountain. If not for the mysterious force behind Qian Daoliu's words, they might have already struck down this arrogant, blasphemous boy on the spot.
Chen Yi seemed not to notice the killing intent and oppression. He slowly turned, meeting Qian Daoliu's eyes—eyes that seemed about to spit golden fire—with a calm gaze and flat tone, as if he were posing an academic question.
"The younger generation naturally knows what you said, but may I ask the elders: besides the records in the classics and family tales, do you actually remember the last time the Angel God truly descended to respond to their believers?"
Qian Daoliu's face was icy, his voice slicing through the tension.
"Hmph! The Divine Realm has its own rules. Unless it's a matter of life and death for Spirit Hall, how could a true god freely descend and interfere? That is iron law!"
As the Grand Priest of the Angel Gods, he knew the rules of the Divine Realm well. Most importantly, gods must not lightly interfere in the mortal world. That was one of the confidences that gave him the courage to try to kill Chu Shanhe before, and even to attempt to kill Chen Yi, whose inheritance as a god was in doubt. Unless the core of inheritance was touched, the rules of the Divine Realm would prevent the gods behind Chen Yi from punishing him directly.
Chen Yi let the explanation hang, knowing this idea—that the gods were bound by rules and that the sacred signs hadn't appeared in ten thousand years—was a sufficient excuse to fool most followers. But to break Qian Daoliu's deep-rooted faith, he needed direct, irrefutable evidence.
After a pause, Chen Yi swept his gaze across the devotees in the Spirit Hall, observing their varied expressions, then asked a second question, his voice tinged with the faintest pity.
"Then, seniors and juniors, let me ask again: When, besides Lady Qian Renxue, was the last time a member of the Angel clan awakened the Seraphim martial soul with innate soul power at level 20?"
As a supreme-grade martial soul, the Seraphim should grant innate soul power upon awakening. According to Spirit Hall's ancient scriptures, the Angel God bestows level 10 "divine soul power" to direct descendants, combining with their own level 10 to make an innate level 20. This is why Yu Xiaogang could deduce from the records that "anyone who awakens the Seraphim martial soul must have innate level 20 soul power." These additional 10 levels were a symbol of divine charisma and the blood bond between god and follower.
As these words fell, Qian Daoliu's pupils shrank to pinpoints, and the icy anger on his face was replaced by shock and panic. This question was like a key, opening the long-locked door to his deepest, most deliberately avoided fears.
Under the stares of the others, Qian Daoliu was silent for a while, his lips moving before he finally spat out a precise, chilling number with a voice as dry as sandpaper.
"…Yes. 4,761 years ago."
He closed his eyes, then opened them again, the golden light in his pupils now dull and faded.
"Since that ancestor… All the direct descendants who have awakened the Seraphim martial soul… Their soul power has always been innate level 10, never again… innate level 20."
The number struck the hearts of all present like a heavy hammer. As Spirit Hall's core officials, they all understood what "innate level 20" meant for the Angel clan. It was not just a measure of talent—it was proof of divine favor.
Chen Yi sighed softly, his voice clear and resonant in the silent hall.
"As the head and Grand Priest of the Seraphim clan, you know better than anyone that so-called innate level 20 soul power comes from the Angel God's… 'divine gift.'"
The phrase "the god grants soul power" fell like a final verdict, plunging the air of the altar below freezing.
Lion Douluo wanted to argue but couldn't find the words. Fifteen Ton Douluo and Falling Devil Douluo clenched their fists, disbelief and panic in their eyes. Azure Luan and the Golden Crocodile exchanged glances, seeing the waves of shock reflected in each other's eyes. Could it be… just as this youth said… the Angel God had truly fallen?
"No! Don't speak such nonsense!" Qian Daoliu suddenly roared, as if to drive away the terrifying thought surging within him. His face was pale, but he clung desperately to his last shred of dignity and faith.
"The Divine Ancestor… would never fall! He… he must have had other considerations. Perhaps he worried that future generations could not fully control the extra ten levels of soul power, that the foundation would be unstable… So the gift was only withdrawn temporarily, yes, that must be it!"
"Xue'er is the proof!" Qian Daoliu stared at Chen Yi with almost fanatical intensity, as if trying both to convince himself and refute Chen Yi.
"The Divine Ancestor has only retreated temporarily, seeking a higher realm. The divine trials he left behind still continue, and I am proof of that."
"I underwent the Angel God's trial a hundred years ago and obtained the miracle of the soul ring. That is irrefutable evidence the Divine Ancestor still cares for us."
Seeing Qian Daoliu still desperately clinging to his faith, Chen Yi's eyes flashed with a trace of helplessness. He knew that for people like Qian Daoliu, faith was rooted deep in their bones, the very meaning of their lives. To break that faith was more cruel than killing him.
But facts must be faced.
"You can never wake someone pretending to sleep," Chen Yi sighed inwardly. "Unless the blanket covering him is completely lifted, forcing him to face the cold reality."
He set aside all consideration, his tone now firm and resolute.
"The truth is, he has fallen."
"..." Qian Daoliu's chest heaved violently, golden soul power spilling out uncontrollably.
Before he could retort, Chen Yi abruptly shifted the topic, seemingly to something irrelevant.
"I heard, senior, that you once traveled overseas and fought against the High Priest of Seagod Island?"
Qian Daoliu was caught off guard, unable to understand why Chen Yi brought this up. For a brief moment, the image of an invincible figure flashed through his mind. Thinking of her, his icy, severe expression unconsciously softened, his tone growing complicated.
"…Yes. I was indeed with… fought against Poseidon Douluo."
That was one of the few times in his life when he was not able to dominate, or was even slightly suppressed, by an opponent who was also a High Priest serving a mighty Sea God.
Seeing the complex, shimmering light in Qian Daoliu's eyes, Chen Yi couldn't help but shake his head. As the Grand Priest of the Angel God, did he not notice anything strange after clashing with another High Priest suspected of inheriting another god's legacy?
Was the Seagod simply too well hidden, or was Qian Daoliu's faith in the Angel God so blind that he ignored the most basic contradictions?
Chen Yi continued patiently, guiding him.
"Senior, surely you know that the Sea God conquered the seas by force, subduing the Deep Sea Whale King and fierce beasts, and finally ascended the throne?"
Qian Daoliu frowned, still unable to grasp Chen Yi's intent, and said irritably,
"So what? The Sea God's dominance was indeed based on power, but what does that have to do with your blasphemous claims?"
Chen Yi, inwardly exasperated, pointed it out directly.
"A god who rose purely by force, whose divine authority is centered on 'ruling the sea' and 'power.' How could he possess both 'holiness' and 'purification'—two completely opposite attributes, usually linked to light and order?"
He stared at Qian Daoliu's suddenly constricted pupils with burning eyes, enunciating each word:
"As far as I know, in the Divine Realm, only two beings can fully wield both 'holy' and 'purification' as their core authorities. One is the Goddess of Life, a member of the Five God Kings of the Divine Council, who governs creation and the revival of all things!"
"And the other—" Chen Yi's voice was sharp as a steel cone, cutting away the last psychological barrier in Qian Daoliu's mind—
"Is the Angel God, worshipped by your clan for generations!"
Qian Daoliu's mind went blank, his ears roaring, his vision darkening. Chen Yi's logic was clear and merciless, dissecting the contradiction he had never dared to examine.
Bo Saixi, Seagod Island's High Priest—the power she used in combat… holy golden light, the power to purify evil spirits… How similar was it to the Angel God's holy power?
No, not just similar—they were fundamentally the same in origin!
He had always assumed it was a divine trait of the sea or a common ability of powerful gods, but he had never dared to connect the two directly.
"You… you mean…?" Qian Daoliu's voice trembled, and he staggered back a half-step, nearly falling if not for the seat behind him.
In his golden eyes, the unwavering faith he had guarded for a century now shattered like glass, filled with countless cracks and dumbstruck terror.
Chen Yi took a deep breath, realizing the most crucial, cruel moment had arrived. He met Qian Daoliu's gaze, which was gradually loosening, and delivered the final, harsh truth in the coldest tone.
"Yes. The Angel God's fall is inseparable from the Sea God Poseidon."
"Because the Sea God Poseidon inherited everything from the Angel God—his authority, and the source of his power!"
"No! Impossible, absolutely impossible!" Qian Daoliu all but screamed, suddenly straightening, grasping for his last hope. The Seraphim martial soul behind him exploded forth, its nine soul rings—eight black, one red—blazing fiercely.
"I still have the divine trials! The Angel God's trials continue—I am proof of the Angel God's existence!"
"You're talking nonsense! You're shaking the very foundation of my Spirit Hall! Your heart deserves punishment!"
Seeing Qian Daoliu, almost insane, the last trace of pity left Chen Yi's eyes, replaced by cold analysis. He stared into Qian Daoliu's eyes, his voice not loud but filled with merciless understanding.
"That's precisely it."
"Your so-called Angel God's trials are nothing more than a set of 'procedures' that continue independently after the gods have fallen, relying on idols and faith alone."
"Even for a main god like the Angel God—even an ordinary rank-three god—after they fall, the residual divine power and authority are enough to support similar 'evaluation' systems for thousands of years."
"You're only fighting for a being who's long since passed, guarding the empty shell he left behind… a one-man show with no answer."
These words tore away Qian Daoliu's last fig leaf and psychological defense. His face turned ashen, the once awe-inspiring soul power around him now in chaos and fading away.
Chen Yi was not finished. He asked the final, most fatal question, one that directly hit Qian Daoliu's personal humiliation and doubts.
"And, senior, did you ever wonder—when you pursued Tang Hao with your nigh-invincible rank-99 Douluo powers, why could he always escape from you?"
"Even when severely injured and on the verge of death, he always had inexplicable vitality. Was it really just luck, or did the Clear Sky Sect have some deep, hidden bloodline?"
Qian Daoliu's whole body trembled. His failure to capture Tang Hao had always been a sore spot and a secret shame. He had never wanted to face it, always blaming it on Tang Hao's cunning, luck, or the dominance of the Clear Sky Hammer.
Seeing Qian Daoliu's fainting state, Chen Yi judged the time was right.
"Now, do you understand, seniors, why we have Body sect… and why Tang Hao could not be killed?"
Chen Yi's voice was soft but filled with certainty.
"Because above us… there is someone."
"There is someone!"
These words exploded in Qian Daoliu's mind, already on the verge of insanity, like four thundering lightning strikes, and sent monstrous waves through the hearts of all Spirit Hall's followers!
"Boom—!"
Overwhelmed by rage and collapsing faith, coupled with old wounds and soul power turmoil, Qian Daoliu could no longer suppress it. He suddenly spat a mouthful of golden blood, his breathing withering in an instant. In a flash, his entire figure seemed to age a hundred years, his back stooped.
...
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