The orderly retreat of the Clear Sky Clan had just begun. Rain-soaked disciples carried their wounded, supporting one another as they marched toward the mountain path that led to the ancestral lands.
But suddenly, a commotion erupted in the middle ranks. Cries of protest and alarm rang out, causing the retreating formation to falter. Tang Xiao’s eyes sharpened instantly, and with heavy steps, he strode forward to confront the source.
There, Falling Devil Douluo stood with a cold expression, his claw-like hand gripping the shoulder of a young Clear Sky disciple. Several other members had already been pulled out of the line and detained by Spirit Hall’s forces.
Tang Xiao forced himself to remain calm. He bowed slightly, his tone respectful yet edged with steel.
“Senior, why are you detaining the members of my Clear Sky Clan?”
Falling Devil Douluo didn’t answer immediately. His pale eyes flickered with an unsettling gleam. But before Tang Xiao could press further, Fifteen Ton Douluo, broad and menacing, let out a deep laugh.
“Isn’t it obvious, new Sect Master of the Clear Sky Clan? We are taking hostages.”
The words landed like thunder. A ripple of fury surged through the disciples, and many instinctively clenched their hands, but Tang Xiao immediately raised his hand to stop them. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists beneath his sleeves.
He had seen this pattern before. Only a few days earlier, when the subsidiary clans of the Clear Sky had attempted to retreat independently, Bibi Dong had unleashed the Angel Corps upon them. She had taken the Angel Corps to attack the Loyal Subsidiary Clans of Clear Sky Clan.
Now, with the Clear Sky Clan officially withdrawing, hostages could be taken as living shackles, binding the clan’s will.
Tang Xiao’s eyes flicked toward Golden Crocodile Douluo. The towering man stood at the edge, his aura suffocating even while restrained. When Tang Xiao’s lips parted, ready to argue, Golden Crocodile’s eyes swept across him like a blade.
Just a glare, no words.
But that was enough. Tang Xiao swallowed hard, his protests lodged in his throat. He could feel the gazes of his clansmen burning into him—some filled with pleading, others with silent blame. Yet he could do nothing.
He hated it.
His heart screamed in outrage, but his reason shackled his tongue. For the preservation of the clan, he would endure this humiliation. Spirit Hall was not merely strong—they were overwhelming. To resist here would mean not only the death of the hostages, but also the extermination of the Clear Sky Clan itself.
Inside his chest, however, a vow was carved deeper than stone.
‘If I get the chance… Spirit Hall, I will have my revenge a hundredfold.’
The rain slid down his face, mingling with the bitterness in his eyes. To him, the root of all this tragedy lay in Spirit Hall itself—more specifically, in the Pope himself.
Tang Xiao’s thoughts churned, dark and unyielding. ‘It was Qian Xunji who sought Ah Yin, forcing Tang Hao into desperation. If the Pope had not overreached, he would not have died. It was his fault, not ours.’
Never once did Tang Xiao consider that Ah Yin, a transformed hundred-thousand-year soul beast, was more than a resource. To a soul master she, a 100,000 soul beast was more precious she was a mine of gold. If the other two great clans had known her true identity, would they not have hunted her as well?
Perhaps. Perhaps not. But to Tang Xiao, the blame could only rest on Spirit Hall.
As the disciples were dragged away by Spirit Hall’s Douluo and the Angel Corps, their cries fading into the rain, Tang Xiao clenched his jaw until blood filled his mouth. He raised his head to the heavens, lightning flashing across the stormy sky.
‘This humiliation, this blood debt… one day, it will be repaid.’
Tang Xiao controlled the fury burning in his chest. Forcing himself into servility, he bowed slightly and said with a voice hoarse from restraint,
“We have already surrendered, and will soon migrate completely to our ancestral land, closing our doors to the outside world. What is the meaning of taking hostages?”
His words rang across the drenched courtyard. Clan members behind him raised their heads in hope, watching their new Sect Master challenge Spirit Hall’s oppression, even if only with words.
But Fifteen Ton Douluo only smirked, the expression on his wide face dripping with mockery.
“Brat, do we need to explain everything we do to you?”
The disdain in his tone was sharper than any blade. Murmurs of anger spread among the Clear Sky disciples, but Tang Xiao quickly raised his hand again to silence them. His gaze hardened, and this time he raised his voice a little, his words carrying both anger and desperation.
“I am the Clan Leader, and I am responsible for their lives.”
Falling Devil Douluo, standing beside his comrade, tilted his head with a mocking smile. The heavy rain glistened on his cloak, and his sharp eyes narrowed as if savoring Tang Xiao’s helplessness.
“You want to know? Then listen. We are not here to slaughter your people—at least, not yet. We are taking hostages as insurance, so that your Clear Sky Clan complies as agreed. If everything you have promised is fulfilled, then…” he spread his pale hand slowly, “they will be returned without a scratch.”
The words were spoken lightly, almost casually, but the weight behind them pressed down like a mountain. Everyone knew what this meant: the lives of their captured clansmen now hung on Spirit Hall’s whim.
Tang Xiao’s fingernails dug into his palms until blood seeped out, but he forced his head down. Against two Super Douluo, his anger was powerless. He could not fight, not now, not with the survival of his clan at stake.
“…Understood,” he finally said through gritted teeth.
Behind him, the disciples shivered—not from the cold rain, but from the humiliation of seeing their proud Sect Master bow. Even so, they too understood: this was the only path left.
Suppressing his rage, Tang Xiao turned away and began issuing commands. With the help of the elders and loyal clansmen, he organized the transfer of the movable assets, precious ores, food reserves, medicinal stockpiles—toward the hidden ancestral mountains. Every load carried felt like a fragment of the Clear Sky Clan’s shattered pride.
Unbeknownst to Tang Xiao, this retreat, which he thought would be their last humiliation, was only the beginning. A new storm was gathering, one fiercer, darker, and far more destructive than the one that had already fallen upon them.
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