Douluo Continent: The Underworld Emperor Halosa Lets Three Fly

Chapter 106 Conversation with Qian Renxue, Ten Thousand Years of Experience (Part 1)

On the altar, the sacred radiance seemed to be made even purer by the presence of the golden-haired woman. The "I knew it" look on Harosa's face was fleeting, but it didn't escape Qian Renxue's eyes, which held the essence of the ocean and gold.

She moved with light steps, as if illusory golden lotuses bloomed beneath her feet. Every step she took carried an innate holiness and majesty, her demeanor graceful and elegant. She emerged gracefully from the halo of sacred runes that still flowed around the core of the altar.

When Harosa clearly uttered the words "Angel God - Qian Renxue," a momentary freeze appeared on Qian Renxue's flawless, holy, and noble face.

It wasn't a moment of confusion, but rather a profound sense of loss, as if a corner of a memory, buried for millennia by the dust of time, had suddenly been brushed away.

This name, this identity, this title that once carried all her glory and ultimate downfall, is mentioned again after endless depravity and darkness, and the impact it brings is far beyond words.

"You seem to know me?" Qian Renxue's voice was ethereal and otherworldly, like celestial music coming from the sacred mountain, yet it also carried a sense of tranquility after experiencing the vicissitudes of life.

Harosa's grayish-brown divine power of rebirth did not loosen; on the contrary, it became even more concentrated. He clearly sensed that the altar array not only did not suppress Qian Renxue in the slightest, but its pure, holy aura of light subtly resonated with her, as if providing her with some kind of support and amplification. This raised his vigilance to its highest point.

"The Holy Sword of the Angels is here, its sacred light aura as vast as the ocean, exactly as the legend says." Harosa's voice was steady as he looked directly into those heterochromatic eyes. "Twenty thousand years ago, in the battle that destroyed the Spirit Hall, the light of the Fallen God above Jialing Pass—you are the last bloodline of the Qian family, Angel God Qian Renxue."

Qian Renxue nodded slightly, her bewilderment quickly replaced by a deep calm.

"You don't need to be so wary, Harosa."

She reiterated, her voice gentle yet carrying undeniable strength, "The one speaking to you now is 'Ah,' not 'Tong.' I have no ill intentions towards you."

Harossa's lips curled into a cold, sharp smile, his grey-white eyes as sharp as knives: "Is there no malice, or—are you wary of my strength?" He slightly raised his hand, a wisp of grey-brown divine light, imbued with the meaning of destruction and annihilation, swirling around his fingertips, pointing towards the endlessly flowing golden divine runes at the core of the altar. "Afraid that I'll risk everything to destroy this altar's protective array, leaving that 'Tong' unrestrained?"

His threat was clear and direct. He keenly sensed that although the aura of Qian Renxue in her "A" state was still unfathomable and far surpassed his own as a third-level god, it was worlds apart from the suffocating "Tong" of before.

He was confident that he could transform the accumulated power of rebirth into a devastating impact before the opponent's thunderous strike could arrive, severely damaging or even destroying the key nodes of the magic array!

Once the magic array becomes unbalanced and the seal loosens, failing to restrain Atong, the crazed "Tong" will break free, which will benefit no one!

Qian Renxue remained calm, neither responding to Harosa's blunt threat.

With a mere flick of her sleeve, a delicate tea table made of pure luminous energy materialized out of thin air amidst the flowing golden light, upon which rested an antique white jade tea set. The teapot floated up automatically, its spout releasing a refined aroma of tea, and the boiling tea was precisely poured into two jade cups, steam rising gently.

"We can talk," Qian Renxue said gracefully, sitting down and gesturing for him to sit. "Why make a big fuss? Please sit down and have some tea."

Harosa gazed at the fragrant tea before him, then at the golden-haired goddess seated opposite him, exuding an air of divine grace.

A hint of suspicion appeared on his face: "You—have a lot of time?"

He was implying how long the other person's lucid "Ah" state could last, further hinting at the terrifying madness that could resurface at any moment. Tong Qianrenxue picked up her jade cup, her slender fingers appearing even more perfect against the warm, white jade. She took a small sip, her movements extremely elegant, her heterochromatic eyes, azure and golden, calmly looking at Harosa. She didn't speak, but her composed demeanor itself was the best answer to her: there was plenty of time.

Harosa's mind raced. The calmer the other person was, the more unfathomable they seemed. But he also had many questions that needed answering.

Finally, he restrained some of his overflowing divine power and sat down opposite her at the coffee table. Looking at Qian Renxue's dignified and imposing figure, seemingly born to stand above all beings, images of her tumultuous life flashed through his fused memories—the forbearance and scheming during the Heavenly Palace Coup.

The despair and resentment of losing one's divine position—Harosa sighed softly inexplicably.

This sigh is both a lament about the capriciousness of fate and a complex emotion about how this once-proud genius has ultimately fallen to such a state.

The two sat facing each other, the atmosphere subtle. A sacred radiance and a greyish-brown aura of the dead silently mingled and probed above the small coffee table.

Both sides had too many things they wanted to know, and this seemingly peaceful tea tasting was destined to be a battle of information.

Qian Renxue put down her jade cup, her ethereal voice breaking the silence as she asked the question she cared about most since waking up: "Now, how many years have passed since the Spirit Hall was destroyed?" Her voice was calm, but Harosa keenly noticed that when she mentioned "the Spirit Hall's destruction," the knuckles of her fingers gripping the rim of the cup turned slightly white.

"More than 20,000 years have passed," Harosa replied truthfully.

Qian Renxue's long, golden eyelashes trembled slightly, like butterfly wings fluttering. Twenty thousand years of change had passed.

She paused for a moment, then spoke again, her voice carrying a barely perceptible hint of inquiry: "More than 20,000 years have passed—has a new god been born on Douluo Continent?" She wanted to know what the world protected by the person who defeated her was like now.

Harosa picked up the teacup but didn't drink it, only feeling the warmth from the cup: "Besides the original Shrek Seven Devils who all became gods, ten thousand years ago, Tang Wutong, the daughter of the Sea God Tang San, and her partner, Huo Yuhao, the God of Emotions, both became gods."

He paused, put down his teacup, and looked at Qian Renxue with his gray eyes. "After that, for nearly ten thousand years—there was only me. Of course, I am not Tang San's person."

These few words were enough for Qian Rengxue to know a lot of information, so Harosa didn't need to say anything more.

Deep within Qian Renxue's eyes, which held the essence of the ocean and gold, a subtle ripple seemed to spread. She listened quietly, her face expressionless, but that momentary silence, and her slightly lowered eyelids, made Harosa clearly feel the tremor in her heart and a complex emotion that was hard to describe.

The Shrek Seven Devils becoming gods is a thing of the past, but the fact that Tang San's daughter and son-in-law also became gods means that their bloodline and legacy still reign supreme over all living beings.

The Spirit Hall and the Angel Clan were nothing but a matter of triumph and defeat; history is written by the victors. Only after a long while did she raise her eyes, her azure and gold gaze filled with an almost obsessive anticipation: "Then, does the Angel Clan still have any bloodline descendants in the present world?" This was her deepest concern, besides revenge and liberation. She felt guilty towards the Qian family and her grandfather Qian Daoliu's expectations; her only solace was whether her bloodline could continue.