Chapter 42: The Eight-Winged Angel
The six great Worshipers exchanged hesitant glances at Qian Renxue's proposal. For cultivators of their level, such matters were long beneath their concern—unless by some rare chance they found themselves truly enamored. Moreover, the stronger a bloodline, the more difficult it was to produce descendants. Her suggestion was, to them, practically impossible.
"Young Mistress, we really don't have that kind of… inclination," the Lion Worshiper said awkwardly.
The others nodded in quiet agreement.
Qian Renxue then produced several orbs from her soul tool, each glowing faintly golden. "These are Ascension Orbs," she said. "They can enhance an existing spirit ring by twenty thousand years. Apart from Grandfather Daoliu and Grandfather Tian'e, none of you have hundred-thousand-year rings—surely that's a regret? With one of these, your ninth ring could reach that divine threshold."
At once, the Worshipers' eyes burned with desire.
A hundred-thousand-year ring—the dream of every Title Douluo. When they were young, each had been a prodigy, unstoppable in cultivation. But the gap between ninety-seven and ninety-eight was an unbridgeable abyss. Only the likes of Yue Guan, Ghost, and Bear Ju, those "juniors" who'd gained immortal herbs and divine inheritance, still had hope of surpassing them. Jealousy might be improper for them—but inevitable.
Rings, though, could not be replaced lightly. The decision to reforge one's body and spirit carried no return. Still, when Qian Renxue added softly, "If you can bear one worthy child, I shall gift you one Ascension Orb," hesitation turned immediately to calculation.
The Worshipers' gazes shifted. Suddenly, the notion of finding partners no longer seemed so distasteful.
Only Golden Crocodile Tian'e looked conflicted. The thought of gaining another hundred-thousand-year ring stirred his fighting spirit. His eighth ring was already eighty thousand years; with one of these orbs, he could possess two red rings. Perhaps it would even allow him to pierce the Limit realm. Yet age had betrayed him—his blood was no longer vigorous.
After a long silence, he said sheepishly, "Young Mistress, perhaps… we can reach a compromise? I have a son; let him take my place in this matter. What do you think?"
Qian Renxue smiled faintly. "That is acceptable."
"Much obliged, Young Mistress."
While Tian'e left to arrange his son's marriage, and other Worshipers went seeking suitable women, Qian Daoliu finally broke his silence.
"Xue'er," he asked gravely, "since you possess these Ascension Orbs, why not use them yourself? If all your rings reached the hundred-thousand-year level, your divine foundation would grow even stronger."
Qian Renxue shook her head gently. "I am no longer an ordinary soul master. I once ascended to godhood. My spirit rings have already been elevated once through the God-given process. These orbs can no longer refine me. They were bestowed by the Divine Ancestor to strengthen our Spirit Hall as a whole."
Qian Daoliu sighed, guilt etching his weathered face. "I was too cautious with you. Had I pushed harder after your awakening, your foundation might have been greater still."
She smiled tenderly. "Grandfather, this version of me hasn't even been born in your timeline yet."
He laughed softly. "And yet, that version's grandfather is still me, is he not?"
Qian Renxue nodded. Then her gaze grew serene. "You needn't worry about my foundation. I'm absorbing a divine seed now—melding its power into my own. My spirit ring ages rise by the day. In time, they will match, perhaps even surpass, Tang San's former achievements."
With the flick of her wrist, radiant light filled the chamber. Six black-feathered wings burst from her back, joined by two new ones—pure, radiant white. The Celestial weapon of her soul—the Fallen Angel—had evolved, becoming the Eight-Winged Angel.
Decades of absorbing the divine seed had brought her rings to a configuration of four black and five red, with the last two at the ferocious-beast level. It was a setup unseen in this age—second only to Tang San's ultimate limit.
Back in this rewritten timeline, Qian Renxue knew her version of Spirit Hall already far surpassed its past self. Yet she also understood that strength alone did not determine victory. The deciding factor in that ancient war had been divine power.
And what had godhood brought them before? She and her mother had become gods, yes—but only as pawns in a far older game.
Only the God Kings stood beyond the chessboard. Only the God Kings could truly escape fate.
Tilting her head toward the heavens, eyes closed, she remembered the man who had pulled her broken soul from the river of time, who had given her one last chance, one "regret's reprieve."
He, too, had shared her enemy—Tang San. Yet the one she faced was still but a boy, one she surpassed in divine ascent—only to fall to him in the end.
That man's story was far different. He was born into a world where Tang San was already a God King. His entire existence was bound in Tang San's web of fate—until, after ten thousand years of quiet endurance, he struck back and erased the legend entirely.
She knew his actions weren't for her. But for the man who had saved her, she felt something she could not deny. Still, she also knew the truth: he had escaped the board, while she was still a drenched, gasping piece freshly pulled from the water.
"I've sworn to protect… and I've yearned to destroy. I have been both compassionate and cruel. Within me coexist light and shadow. Only by balancing these opposites and embracing the true inheritance of the Angel God will I ever reach the realm of a God King."
Only as a God King! Her golden eyes shone with blazing resolve.
Then, cutting through her thoughts, came a deep, familiar voice within her divine mind—Huo Yuhao's.
"Qian Renxue."
Her hand brushed the divine ring on her finger, lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. She could already guess his next words.
"Here's a little warning," the voice said casually. "Yu Xiaogang—the man who once bewitched your mother—has left the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan. It won't be long before he and your mother meet again."
Instantly, the warmth vanished from her gaze, replaced by sharp, frozen light. "Let him come," she said coldly. "I've been waiting. This time, I'll erase him entirely—from my mother's heart, and from her very soul."
In her previous life, nothing had haunted her more than that final moment—her mother breathing her last, still whispering Yu Xiaogang's name with love. Qian Renxue knew too well what kind of man he truly was.
Heaven had spared her and revealed the truth, but not given her the chance to right that wrong.
Now, she finally had it.
Through her reforms, Spirit Hall's overall strength soared again—save for the three fools of the Pope's Hall: Qian Xunji, Elder Golden Bell, and Elder Silver Hammer, still blissfully ignorant of the power rising around them.
(END CHAPTER)
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