Rakshasa's pupils shrank.
The "Qian Renxue" she had stabbed was nothing more than a projection—woven from her 3rd skill Illusion and reinforced by battle hypnosis that had subtly guided her perception since the start of the fight.
Before she could fully process it—a quiet voice spoke behind her.
"You really thought I would stand still at the brink of victory?"
Rakshasa spun around.
The real Qian Renxue hovered calmly several meters away, uninjured. Twelve wings spread majestically behind her, golden feathers untouched by darkness.
Rakshasa closed her eyes briefly and concentrated.
A denser, sharper psychic assault erupted outward. This time it was focused, condensed—like a spear of pure malignant thought aimed directly at Qian Renxue's mind.
Invisible pressure swept the battlefield.
However—Qian Renxue's purple eyes began to glow and phantoms of countless pupils appeared in her eyes.
Rakshasa, who still believed she had regained control of the situation, continued channeling her mental attack.
She imagined Qian Renxue's consciousness drowning in corruption.
But the moment her mind extended fully outward—A sudden darkness engulfed her.
Rakshasa, who had corrupted countless beings across eras, suddenly began to hear something unfamiliar. murmurs.
At first, they were faint—like distant whispers followed by Obsessions, Regrets, Prayers and Madness.
It was as though the one who had always been the corrupter… was now being corrupted.
This was due to her being hit by Plague Storm, released by Qian Renxue.
She found herself standing in the middle of an endless void.
Before her loomed a vast silhouette.
A colossal Angel Goddess whose form seemed to merge with heaven and eternity itself.
Rakshasa lowered her gaze—and her heart nearly stopped.
She was standing on an open palm of that gigantic Angel.
From this perspective, she was no more than a speck of dust.
"You think you can play mind games with me?!" Rakshasa shouted, suppressing the tremor in her voice. "I rule all dark thoughts!"
Her authority flared instinctively, but it did not resonate here.
The enormous silhouette chuckled softly.
The sound was gentle, yet it reverberated like cosmic thunder.
"You only know me as the Angel Goddess," the vast figure spoke.
Her voice was calm.
"But do you know what I prefer to be called…?"
Rakshasa's instincts screamed.
She didn't want to hear it. Yet she couldn't stop listening.
"The Weaver of Dreams.....and Ruler of Memories."
Before Rakshasa could resist further—
The white void collapsed into absolute blackness.
As she sank, the final words echoed like a verdict.
"On second thought… I will keep you alive."
A slight amusement colored the voice.
"I wish to test the feasibility of a method I've conceived."
—
Dragon Realm.
The shattered realm remained fractured, but the battle had ended.
Qian Renxue walked slowly across the ruined land.
With a flick of her fingers, necromantic magic bloomed upon the ground. Dragon bones scattered across the battlefield trembled, rose, and assembled themselves into a throne.
A throne of white bones , looking majestic as if welcoming their emperor.
In her hand, she held the severed head of Rakshasa Goddess.
However, the eyes were not entirely lifeless. Within the hollow pupils flickered a preserved soul fragment—sealed by Qian Renxue's overwhelming mental authority.
She sat upon the bone throne and the wings behind her folded slowly.
Bringing the Rakshasa's head before her gaze, she began to think.
'According to the laws of the Douluo Plane…'
'A being can embark upon cultivation only after awakening a martial soul.'
'The type of martial soul depends on bloodline, mutation, and various environmental factors.'
'And for every ten levels, one must hunt and absorb a soul ring suitable soul beast to advance.'
Her purple eyes shimmered.
'Why does it resemble a structured progression system?'
'A leveling framework.'
Her gaze shifted slightly upward—as if looking beyond the Dragon Realm.
'I am certain the Divine Realm can bypass these restrictions.'
"If the rules can be bypassed…"
Her fingers tapped lightly against the bone throne.
"Then they can be rewritten, in a way that is beneficial to me"
She lowered her gaze toward the soul fragment within Rakshasa's head.
" This much soul is enough for you to provide Nine Rakshasa Trials....If Tang San was able to achieve dual Godhood why don't I try it."
----
Spirit City
Within the innermost chambers of the Pontiff's Palace, silence reigned as always.
Incense burned slowly its smoke coiling like ghostly fingers in the air.
Seated cross-legged at the center of the chamber was Bibi Dong.
Her expression was somber as she was trying to cultivate
But within her sea of consciousness— A voice echoed.
"Bibi Dong… you are my chosen inheritor."
The Rakshasa Divine Intent circled her mind like a vulture.
"And yet your will is so fragile."
A low, distorted chuckle reverberated.
"You met your daughter once… and your heart wavers? Have you forgotten that Rakshasa and Angel possess polar opposite attributes?"
The voice pressed harder.
"You and she were destined to stand opposed."
Bibi Dong's brows tightened slightly. Her breathing remained steady, but faint ripples disturbed her mental sea.
Rakshasa Goddess divine intent sneered.
"You dare harbor hesitation? Weakness is unacceptable for my successor—"
The voice stopped suddenly as though the voice had been cut off.
Bibi Dong's eyes snapped open. For several seconds, she remained perfectly still.
Then—She exhaled slowly.
"…It spared me today?"
Yet something felt… different, her mind felt unprecedentedtly clear today
She placed a hand over her chest.
And naturally—
Her thoughts drifted toward someone she had tried not to dwell on, her daughter, Qian Renxue.
A complicated expression crossed her eyes, today's clarity in her mond led her to make a decision..
"There were misunderstandings between us…"
But now, when she recalled that meeting—
"I should speak to her."
Bibi Dong rose gracefully from her meditation cushion.
Whatever had changed within her—she did not question it too deeply.
Instead, she embraced the clarity her mind was feeling now.
Little did she know—
The silence within her consciousness was not mercy.
Far away, in the shattered Dragon Realm, the true Rakshasa Goddess had already fallen.
The divine will that once taunted her had been severed at its source by her daughter's blade.