Chapter 362: The Purple-Golden Spirit Ring
The Holy Spirit Cult.
With a deafening crash, the sealed chamber burst open, scattering stone and dust in all directions.
From the haze emerged a towering figure—Zhongli Wu.
He stood straight as a spear, gaze locked upon the sky, where cataclysmic thunderclouds churned. His eyes held no fear.
Instead, they burned with feverish excitement—the ambition to unify the entire Douluo Continent now blazing brighter than ever.
The lightning tribulation hanging above him was, in his mind, nothing less than the final whetstone for his newly-forged godhood.
"Come, then!"
With a wild laugh that echoed like thunder itself, he raised his head, voice rolling through the heavens.
"This will help me fully refine the power of the divine fruit!"
He could feel it—the vast energy of that mysterious fruit, though already devoured and mostly absorbed, still remained dormant deep within his body.
It had yet to truly fuse with his flesh and martial soul.
Now, the divine lightning would be the catalyst to complete the transformation.
Crack—!
The first bolt of tribulation descended—a column of violet lightning thick as a temple pillar, carrying boundless destruction.
Zhongli Wu did not dodge. His eyes gleamed with wicked light as he drove his fist upward.
No soul skills. No techniques.
Only physical might and raw energy—pure force against heaven's wrath.
Boom—boom—boom!
Fist and thunder collided, erupting with a sound that rocked the entire mountain.
The black-violet power of his body and the purple divine lightning intertwined madly before annihilating one another.
Zhongli Wu staggered a single step, his hand trembling with numb pain—but his grin widened.
"As I thought!"
The heavenly force had blasted open several obstructed energy points within him, allowing his power to flow with newfound ease.
"Good. Again!"
Raising his head, he roared provocatively toward the sky.
The clouds above him churned darker.
One after another, bolts of lightning crashed down—each twice as thick and twice as fierce as the last.
Their color shifted from violet to blinding white, and finally into a terrifying shade of purple-black.
Zhongli Wu met them all head-on. Behind him, the shadow of his martial soul—the reaper-like specter—roared to life, flaring with immense evil power.
Flashes of black light burst skyward, colliding violently with the cascading lightning.
Each impact generated shockwaves that would have obliterated lesser Title Douluo.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The resulting power waves battered the defensive barrier maintained by Long Xiaoyao and Ye Xishui, forcing them to pour all their strength into stabilizing it.
Sweat beaded their foreheads, their hearts torn between awe and worry.
The thunder tribulation was terrifying beyond measure, something even the two of them could never endure—yet they prayed he would survive.
The Holy Spirit Cult shook as if the world itself was trembling.
For hundreds of miles, soul masters and beasts alike cowered under the crushing pressure of both heavenly wrath and an emerging evil god.
...
Far across the continent, powerful figures stared grimly at the unfolding calamity.
In the Sea God Pavilion, Grand Elder Mu En's wrinkled brow furrowed deeply. "He's using the tribulation to temper his power. Such arrogance—such confidence."
Xuan Zi took a deep swig from his gourd but found only bitterness on his tongue.
"That lightning's power… it's far beyond any recorded ascension. He's actually withstanding it head-on. If he survives—gods help us all."
...
In the Body Sect, Du Busi's fists clenched, trembling slightly—not from fear, but anticipation and jealousy.
"Zhongli Wu… You truly stepped beyond that line. But I won't be left behind."
...
In the Star Auction Pavilion's upper chambers, Jiang Li watched in perfect calm, eyes detached, expression unreadable.
"The energy of a Twin-Polar Abyss Fruit is monstrous. Naturally, such a tribulation would match its ferocity. If he endures, his foundation will eclipse that of any common god."
A faint smile touched his lips. "If not, well… then it ends here. Quite the gamble."
...
The thunderstorm raged for half an hour.
Its force flattened mountains and evaporated rivers.
At last, the final bolt—the most terrifying of all—took shape.
It was no mere lightning strike, but a colossal spear forged entirely from the will of pure destruction, blazing purple and black.
It locked onto Zhongli Wu's very soul before descending with the weight of annihilation.
Sensing death itself coiled around him, Zhongli Wu roared to the skies, releasing every ounce of remaining power.
"Descent of Death!"
Behind him, his martial soul's true body solidified into a towering obsidian god, wielding a massive scythe of pure darkness.
That scythe swung upward, draped in divine evil energy, to meet the descending thunder spear.
Boom!
Heaven and earth fell silent.
For a breathless moment, all light vanished.
Every spectator's spiritual sense recoiled, burned raw by the overwhelming energy.
Then, slowly, the radiance faded.
The storm clouds began to scatter, replaced by rays of golden sunlight piercing through the sky.
And within that light stood a solitary figure.
Zhongli Wu—bloodied, scorched, yet unbroken. His aura roiled like the deepest abyss.
Hum—!
A spirit ring materialized at his feet, rising slowly.
Its color was unlike anything known—neither black nor gold… but a majestic fusion of both.
A resplendent purple-gold hue.
Energy pulsed from it with divine gravity, mingling the essence of godhood and evil itself.
A god-level spirit ring—
the mark of a being who had transcended mortality.
Zhongli Wu closed his eyes, feeling the immense divine power flowing effortlessly through his veins.
"So this is the power of a god…"
His voice trembled, thick with awe and rapture.
"It's beyond comparison—far above Ultimate Douluo. The difference… greater than heaven and earth."
Then he laughed—wildly, endlessly.
The triumphant laughter echoed across the skies.
Below, every member of the Holy Spirit Cult bowed in reverence and excitement.
His gaze swept across them, finally landing on Ye Xishui and Long Xiaoyao. His newfound divinity burned brighter with ambition.
"It's time," he thought.
"Now that I've become a god… the unification of Douluo Continent begins."
He turned to his followers.
"Ye Xishui, Long Xiaoyao—do not envy me," he said, smiling proudly. "If I can succeed, so can you."
"The Star Auction Pavilion remains our greatest chance. The next auction—no matter the cost—we will obtain a treasure strong enough for your ascension as well."
Their eyes flared with determination as they nodded gravely.
Witnessing Zhongli Wu's success firsthand had cemented their faith in the Pavilion's mysterious power.
If the Holy Spirit leader could rise to godhood through its spoils, so could they.
The shock of Zhongli Wu's ascension swept across the world like a storm.
After the initial fear passed, every great faction turned their gaze toward the Star Auction Pavilion, clinging to the hope it represented.
Zhongli Wu had proven the impossible—
that its treasures could forge gods.
And that revelation had just changed the fate of every being on Douluo Continent.
(END CHAPTER)
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