Douluo: A Century-old Legend I Am the Second Uncle Chenxin

Chapter 1653 Self-Destruction! Cremation!
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……

"Retreat?! Where to retreat to?!" Jian Hesong roared, like the mournful cry of a dying lone wolf, "The lads are right behind us!"

"You want me to watch them get slaughtered by these beasts?! No way!"

His gaze swept over the fearful yet determined eyes of the young guards behind him.

The defensive aura was violently distorted and cracked by the powerful blow from the Axe Douluo.

Two Soul Saints launched a coordinated attack from the side, tearing apart the halo of light.

The enemy's buffs shone on them, and their attacks became even fiercer.

The last vestige of hesitation in Jane and Song's eyes vanished completely, replaced by an almost frantic calm.

He abruptly pulled his hands back, his ten fingers like steel hooks, gripping the dark crystal bottle on his chest. His soul power surged into it like a burst dam.

"The seventh soul skill—Martial Soul True Body!"

combustion! !
The entire black crystal bottle suddenly burst forth with a dazzling gray-black light, as bright as the sun.

Inside the bottle, the turbid energy that had been flowing slowly instantly became boiling and churning like hot oil, and an indescribable aura of destruction suddenly enveloped the entire artificial mountain.

The ferocious smile on the face of the powerful Axe Douluo froze instantly; he sensed the approach of death.

"Stop him!!"

He roared and swung his battle axe with all his might, while the two Soul Saints also frantically unleashed their soul skills to attack Jian Hesong.

late!

"You bunch of scum—!! Get in here—!!!"

Jane and Song, like dying beasts, let out their final and most mournful roar.

The true form of the Ink Crystal Bottle instantly expanded to its limit, reaching a size of fifty or sixty meters.

The bottle opening suddenly reversed, and an irresistible, powerful suction force, strong enough to pull and briefly bind even a Soul Douluo-level expert, suddenly erupted.

The powerful attack-type Soul Douluo wielding an axe and the two Soul Saints were the first to be hit!

The three of them felt their bodies sink, as if they were sinking into a swamp. Their soul power was stirred up and churned uncontrollably by the violent suction force, and their prepared attack was instantly interrupted.

Jane and Song's cheeks cracked inch by inch due to the internal pressure, and blood gushed out.

The Ink Crystal Bottle Martial Soul True Form emitted a teeth-grinding "crackling" sound.

He knew that this was the limit.

But his eyes shone with an astonishing brightness, carrying a scarlet gleam of pleasure!

"die--!!!"

The last word was completely swallowed up by the deafening, all-consuming explosion.

In an instant, it was covered by a pure, intense white light that seemed to melt everything in the world into nothingness.

At the center of the white light, the true form of the black crystal bottle disintegrated like a star being burst open!
It was the final silhouette of Jane and Song's tall, imposing, yet incredibly resolute bodies, standing firmly in their place.

Artificial hills, stone pillars, long corridors... everything around them melted and disintegrated like wax figures in the white light!
A terrifying shockwave swept across dozens of meters ahead.

A huge crater appeared on the original site of the artificial hill. The lower half of the Soul Douluo wielding the axe disappeared, while his upper half crashed into the depths of the ruins, charred black.

The two Soul Saints who were closest to each other were wiped out, leaving not even ashes.

Further away, the horrified screams of the enemy support-type Soul Master responsible for providing buffs were completely drowned out...

After the massive explosion, there was an eerie silence...

Only the howling of turbulent energy echoed in my ears, and the air was filled with an intense, suffocating stench of blood, the acrid smell of burning soul power, and... that unforgettable sorrow.

After a brief silence at the entrance to the pavilion at the rear, the low-level Soul Masters could no longer suppress their heart-wrenching, desperate, and suffocating cries.

...At three o'clock in the afternoon, the sun was setting in the west, and the pale light shone into the courtyard of the mansion, making the white curtains all the more dazzling.

In the deathly silent square, figures stood silently, divided into distinct rows according to seniority and kinship.

The elders, middle-aged pillars, disciples, and representatives of key relatives of the Chen family who remained behind stood like a forest of black stone monuments, surrounded by countless banners for summoning souls.

Chen Hong, Chen Menglin, Chen Zhang, Zhuo Qianren and other key figures stood at the forefront in front of the memorial tablets, followed by the female relatives led by Ye Xiuxin, and then a row of young disciples.

Chen Xiaojun chose to stand at the head of the group of young men, his figure slender, his eyes fixed stubbornly on a row of memorial tablets.

Beside him was Chen Xinyi (Xiao Yi), who had changed into a plain white dress. Her face was taut as if covered with a thin layer of ice, and her eyelashes were lowered.

Next came Chen Mu, Zhu Wuneng, and other young people, who tried their best to straighten their backs.

The guests who came to pay their respects walked around the city.

……

The deathly silence was broken.

Chen Zhang held a dark and solemn wooden box in his hand and slowly stepped forward. He did not use his soul power to raise his voice, but with just a quiet aura, he drew everyone's attention to himself.

He opened the wooden box, took out a scroll of plain silk with a sacrificial text, and unfolded it.

A solemn atmosphere permeated the air.

Chen Hong then stepped forward, taking Chen Zhang's place.

His imposing figure appeared particularly solitary and aloof amidst the shadows of the white banners.

His deep, resonant voice rang out, each word seemingly carved from the deepest recesses of his chest, carrying a penetrating power that seemed to pierce the deathly silence, echoing clearly in everyone's ears and hearts:
"On the twelfth day of the second month of the 2539th year of the Douluo calendar, at the hour of Wu (戊), the entire Chen clan, colleagues of the academy, and all relatives and family members respectfully offer this sacrifice, along with the pure wine and simple food of Ganglie, before the spirits of the martyred heroes, saying:"

The spirit banner has been raised; may your soul return!
Alas, my heroic martyrs, have suffered this terrible calamity. The bandits suddenly arrived, and disaster struck from within.

All of you clansmen, you have long been known for your loyalty and diligence; the Ji family, with its strict discipline and obedience, and the harmonious and virtuous conduct of the clan, you are the pillars of the family; all of you have bravely and generously sacrificed yourselves for righteousness.

Though ravaged by fire, its spirit shines brightly!
Protect my children, defend my homeland; let your blood soak the courtyard, let your soul guard the tower.

Heaven is boundless, swiftly taking your life; the netherworld is forever separating us, my grief is piercing to the core!
Only the spirit remains undimmed, witnessing this sincere devotion.

Oooh!
Enjoy this meal!

After the eulogy was finished, the lingering sound, like the final clear ring of metal striking metal, resonated in the frozen air.

Many suppressed sobs could no longer be contained, and the muffled cries spread like tiny ripples through the crowd.

Chen Zhang began to preside over the next step of the ceremony.

The three sacrificial animals were offered, incense and candles were lit, and white silk turned into blue smoke that swirled upwards. Gold and silver paper offerings and vessels were burned in turn...

Each step follows an ancient and rigid process, conducted in solemnity with a breathtakingly slow pace.

This is both an ordeal for the living and a prelude to the journey home for the deceased.

Finally, the ceremony reached its most crucial point—the procession of the coffin to the crematorium.

A somber chant rose in a low voice, suppressing endless sorrow.

Those with profound soul power worked together to lift the heavy coffin, their steps perfectly synchronized.

Zhuo Qianren, Wang Wei, Ma Zhibin, Lian Changzhi, Yan Nanfei, Ji Xiang, Lin Jingshu, Feng Min...

He Qiang, Chen Ze, Gu Wuyan...

Chen Xiaojun, Chen Mu, and Ma Liang participated as disciples.

The girls followed behind, silently shedding tears.

In addition, there's Wushan Academy, including Xia Yun, Qin Huabin, Xing Xingye, and Li Yinuo...

(End of this chapter)