Douluo: Manifesting the Black Abyss and White Flower at the Start

As for whether she could defeat enemies in the virtual world, Bibi Dong never doubted for a second.

She was a top-level powerhouse with twin martial souls and the Rakshasa God's inheritance; on the entire continent, those she feared were few and far between—how could she possibly lose?

With that in mind, she slowly extended her right hand, her dark purple soul power generating a strong suction that instantly drew the black visor-like soul tool from Yue Guan's hand.

Yue Guan did not resist, respectfully letting Bibi Dong take the mysterious soul tool.

Bibi Dong put on the visor, focusing her spiritual power to activate it.

Suddenly, she felt the world spinning; scenes changed rapidly, and when she recovered, she was standing in a vast plaza.

Looking up, she saw the familiar Spirit Hall plaza—every blade of grass, every brick, perfectly matching reality.

A look of amazement flashed in her eyes as she scanned her surroundings in disbelief.

Could such a real, almost physical scene really be just an illusion?

While she was still pondering, several glowing options appeared before her: Single Player, Multiplayer, Simulated Battle, Challenge Mode.

Single and multiplayer were self-explanatory. Simulated Battle allowed two users to duel, but rewards were much less than for beating virtual opponents in single or multiplayer.

Challenge Mode offered different difficulty levels—the higher the difficulty, the greater the rewards, with both solo and team challenges.

It was just like St. Freya Academy's full-immersion strategy system.

Bibi Dong raised her jade hand and unhesitatingly selected Single Player Mode.

Though Challenge Mode intrigued her, she was just here to test, so she chose the fastest way to get a feel for the virtual world.

Instantly, countless avatars flashed before her eyes, finally settling on five.

The first was a handsome young man: "Atlas Douluo, Yun Ming."

The second, an elderly white-haired man: "Dragon God Douluo, Mu En."

The third, an odd old man with black-and-white hair: "Taotie Douluo, Xuan Zi."

Then, two women:

One with cascading black hair, stunningly beautiful, radiating a cold and mature aura: "Death God Douluo, Ye Xishui."

The last, a silver-haired woman with a black visor, her beauty cold as the moon: "Ice Moon Douluo, Jingliu."

Bibi Dong frowned—she recognized none of them.

Neither Spirit Hall's intelligence nor historical records mentioned any of these Title Douluos.

With no choice, she could only guess their strength from their titles.

"Dragon God" and "Death God" sounded unfathomable; anyone with a divine-related title couldn't be weak.

"Taotie," one of the legendary nine sons of the dragon, a true dragon and divine beast. Such a title implied a formidable spirit.

"Atlas" sounded domineering; surely not to be underestimated.

Though confident, Bibi Dong decided to play it safe—it was her first time here, after all.

She understood the logic of picking the softest persimmon.

After some thought, she selected Ice Moon Douluo Jingliu.

As her choice was confirmed, countless shining points of light appeared and gathered.

In the blink of an eye, a silver-haired, ethereal, breathtakingly beautiful sword-woman stood before her.

Bibi Dong's expression turned serious; with a tap of her golden scepter, a giant green phantom spider appeared behind her, exuding chilling, terrifying energy.

At the same time, nine soul rings rose at her feet: yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black, black, black, red—their brilliance dazzling.

Her opponent, Jingliu, instantly formed an ice sword, radiating freezing cold, even causing the air to freeze.

The next second, nine rings also rose under Jingliu: black, black, black, black, red, red, red, red, red.

Seeing this terrifying lineup, Bibi Dong's eye twitched—an ominous premonition rose in her heart.

Before she could react, Jingliu's figure flashed like a silver galaxy, bringing a world-freezing sword intent, slashing down like a meteor.

The terrifying strike seemed powerful enough to split the world.

Bibi Dong's pupils shrank; she instinctively raised her scepter to block.

But an irresistible force swept over her. Her body, soul power, spirit—even her mind—were frozen in an instant.

Then, she was cut in two by that sword, dissolving into countless points of light, vanishing from the virtual world.

…

Back in the Pope's Hall

On the throne, Bibi Dong tore off the visor, her forehead drenched in cold sweat, breathing heavily, her eyes filled with shock.

Recalling the instant before death—facing Jingliu's sword—she felt helpless and hopeless, unable to dodge or block, only able to await death.

That sword had sealed her fate—the sense of despair gripped her, dragging her back to memories of a painful, hopeless night.

"Your Holiness!? Are you alright?" Yue Guan asked cautiously.

But as soon as he spoke, he regretted it—his heart skipped a beat.

He saw Bibi Dong covering one eye, the other glowing with a sinister purple light, her face twisted with horror, her gaze murderous.

That terrifying stare made Yue Guan's heart skip; he felt a sense of death clinging to his soul.

"I'm fine. Leave me for now." Bibi Dong took a deep breath, suppressing her anger, her expression gradually calming, waving Yue Guan away.

"Yes, Your Holiness!" Yue Guan felt as if pardoned, not wanting to stay even a second longer.

Bibi Dong slumped in her seat, exhausted, covering her forehead and muttering, "Did I choose wrong? Could Qian Daoliu withstand that sword? Are they real or fake?"

She had thought those unfamiliar Title Douluos were just virtual illusions.

But Jingliu's sword completely changed her mind.

How could a fictional being wield such a powerful, personal, and unique sword intent?

The opponent might have been a shadow, but that person must exist somewhere.

There really was an Ice Moon Douluo, a peerless sword immortal far stronger than the famed Sword Douluo of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect—a true peak of swordsmanship.

…

In the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect

In the grand hall, the atmosphere was peaceful, broken only by the occasional birdsong outside.

Sword Douluo Chen Xin was lost in the virtual world created by the soul tool, his aura still, only his eyelashes trembling.

Suddenly, with a loud bang, Chen Xin tore off the soul tool, shaking the desk with his movement.

His face was pale, but his eyes blazed with fervor.

He threw his head back and laughed, echoing throughout the hall: "Hahaha! This is swordsmanship! This is the pinnacle! I understand now!"

With his laughter, a sharp sword aura burst from him, nearly piercing the ceiling.

At the same time, his soul power surged like a volcano.

In an instant, his power broke through from level 96 to level 97.

"Uncle Sword?"

"Old Sword?"

Sect master Ning Fengzhi and Bone Douluo Gu Rong were dumbfounded.

They looked at Chen Xin in disbelief.

After a while, when Chen Xin's aura calmed, Ning Fengzhi hurried forward in joy: "Uncle Sword, did you get a reward?"

For the sect, Sword Douluo breaking through to 97 was fantastic news.

Each level for a Title Douluo extended life by a hundred years, evolved their martial soul, and vastly increased their strength.

Sword Douluo shook his head, still pale but unable to hide his excitement: "No, I lost—badly. I didn't withstand even one move."

"Then why did you suddenly break through? Took some drugs?" Bone Douluo half-joked, half-serious, with a trace of envy.

He'd already been a level behind; now the gap was even greater.

Sword Douluo's eyes flashed with passion: "Because my opponent showed me a higher sword path—a true sword path!"

In the virtual world, like Bibi Dong, he'd been given five opponents.

Relying on his sword intuition, he chose Jingliu—the sword user.

Though he didn't last even one move, in that instant he felt as if a new world had opened to him—he saw the true sword path.

So, at the moment of death, he broke through his decades-long bottleneck.

"Opponent? Aren't those just virtual illusions?" Ning Fengzhi frowned, puzzled.

Since getting the soul tools, he'd had many disciples test them; most opponents were unfamiliar faces.

Sword Douluo's gaze was firm: "No, they're real—or at least, my opponent is. Even if the one I faced was a shadow, she must exist somewhere."

Such sword intent and conviction could not be faked.

"I see. I've underestimated these soul tools. I'll have people collect more." Ning Fengzhi said gravely.

He trusted Sword Douluo's judgment; his intuition had never been wrong.

"Fengzhi, get me one of those soul tools—I want to see for myself." Bone Douluo could hardly wait.

If Sword Douluo could break through, perhaps he could too.

Ning Fengzhi smiled wryly—he knew Bone Douluo's thoughts too well.

But Sword Douluo's breakthrough wasn't from defeating an opponent, but from witnessing a higher level of swordsmanship.

Bone Douluo's talent was lower and he did not follow the sword path; breaking through from one battle would be nearly impossible.

If fighting alone could bring breakthroughs, Title Douluos would have done so long ago.