Douluo Continent: The True Body and Blood Soul, Starting from Blacksmithing

Chapter 107 Giving Up...The Angelic Throne

The divine realm, the divine realm committee.

The Milky Way suspended in the dome rotates slowly, and stardust falls like shattered silver from the gaps in the dome, spreading on the gleaming obsidian floor tiles. Each stardust that lands creates a tiny ripple before being absorbed and disappearing by the ground.

The transparent detector pillar in the center of the hall emitted a constant pale blue halo, and countless tiny points of light flowed inside the pillar. The flickering of the light points was steady and slow, like breathing in a slumber.

The God of Destruction was reclining on his throne with his legs crossed, one hand supporting his chin, his gaze lazily fixed on the floating light screen in front of him.

The image projected on the light screen showed a six-winged angel martial soul holder from the lower realm kneeling on the ground, the voice of the angel god communicating with her bloodline descendant through some kind of resonance that transcends realms.

Just as the angel god spoke of "accepting the heart of God and creating one's own divine position," Destruction suddenly raised his hand and rubbed the tip of his nose with his knuckles.

His movements were subtle; his knuckles pressed against the side of his nose, producing only a very faint friction sound. But the goddess of life, sitting at the other end of the hall, cast her gaze upon him almost simultaneously.

Her gaze held a mixture of doubt and understanding, and the corners of her mouth even curved slightly, clearly indicating that she had guessed something.

Destruction lowered his hand, and the faint, itchy feeling in his nasal cavity had subsided.

As a god-king, it's impossible for him to sneeze, since his divine body is no longer tainted by mortal diseases.

But he could still sense these inexplicable feelings. Nine times out of ten, it was someone in the lower realm talking about him, and it was mostly not good stuff.

With a slight thought, he sent a wisp of divine sense toward the lower realm.

A few breaths later, he withdrew his divine sense, and Destruction curled his lip, pulling down the corners of his mouth in an undisguised disdainful arc.

He thought of the farce that had happened not long ago.

That day, the walls of the Divine Realm Committee were covered with the vines of the Ancient Tree of Life. The pale golden flowers blooming on the vines opened and closed in rhythm with his and Xiao Lü's breathing, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of grass and wood sap.

He was busy with important business when Rakshasa God kicked open the door of the Divine Realm Committee. Before he even entered, the sound shook the starlight throughout the corridor.

"Destruction! Come out here!"

The Rakshasa god's voice carried a hoarse, shrill whistle, like two rusty iron plates scraping against each other, each word laced with barely suppressed rage.

"You've interfered with the development of beings in the lower realms!"

She spoke rapidly, giving herself no chance to interrupt: "A mortal boy from the lower realm obtained the Nine Trials of the long-dead God of Crafts! The God of Crafts! Nine Trials! How could an ancient god whose divine essence was shattered into dust suddenly issue divine trials? That's fine, giving him a divine heart and hoping he can solidify his own divine position isn't impossible, but you shouldn't have given him two artifacts with growth potential—"

She went on and on, basically wanting him to destroy her Rakshasa and give her an explanation.

He looked innocent at the destruction and shrugged.

The silver robe and golden armor, and the golden thunderbolt bone-crushing cudgel, right? Neither of these items has anything directly to do with me.

That kid's silver robe and golden armor were forged by an ancient being he accidentally awakened while he was forging a scale.

As for that kid's Golden Thunder Bone-Shattering Cudgel, it's the first piece of spiritual metal in the lower realm. Isn't it normal for him to have some good fortune?

Destruction guaranteed, and he explained himself. Even the junior priest standing to the side who was responsible for recording the meeting's contents couldn't help but nod in agreement.

But Rakshasa didn't believe it at all.

"Show me your body camera! Body cameras don't lie. If the body camera footage proves you didn't interfere, I'll apologize to you on the spot!"

A body camera? That day, to avoid disturbing his and Xiao Lü's private time, he specifically put the body camera away to charge.

Without a recorder, there is naturally no video recording. Without video recording, there is naturally no evidence.

The Rakshasa god's reaction was entirely within the realm of what was expected.

You should sue yourself.

Hilarious. I'm not some kind of demon. That guy likes to follow procedures: presenting evidence in court, cross-examination, deliberation and voting—

However, during his enforcement of the law, the Rakshasa god interfered with his work.

His fate was naturally not good; a ten-year prison sentence was inevitable.

Only angels have the insight to receive information from the lower realms and report it to them.

Although the report was about trivial matters like "I chatted with my bloodline descendants in the lower realm," at least the attitude was appropriate.

There are reports, filings, and records; no one can find fault with the process.

Withdrawing his wandering thoughts, Destructive gaze shifted from the light screen to the massive detector in the center of the Divine Realm Committee's main hall.

The blue dots that were originally flickering leisurely in the detector column are now starting to jump restlessly.

The frequency of the beating was irregular, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, as if it were being disturbed from the outside by something.

Destruction's sitting posture changed from a lazy half-reclining to a slight forward lean. A three-dimensional star map was projected from the top of the detector, and at the edge of the star map, a red area was slowly wandering.

The red patch wasn't glaring, but its edges were blurred, like a wad of blood-soaked cotton slowly writhing against a dark blue star map background. Several points of light around the red area had gone out, replaced by a ring of gray blank space.

The red area was moving around the edge of the divine realm's jurisdiction, its trajectory erratic and lacking a clear sense of direction.

Sometimes it pulls inward, like a tentative tentacle gently touching the boundary membrane of the divine realm, then quickly retracts.

Sometimes it would stay in one place without moving, so quiet that if it weren't for the fact that the column's detection data was still being updated, one would almost think it was just a harmless speck of stardust.

But Destruction knows otherwise. Detectors don't flag harmless things.

Staring at the red area, Destruction's lips slowly curled into a smile. It wasn't a smile, but rather the instinctive reaction of a hunter seeing its prey step into a trap.

A fighting spirit ignited in his eyes, a pure and intense fighting spirit that made his pupils seem to burn with a purplish-black flame.

Even the Goddess of Life, who was sitting beside him, holding her belly and flipping through the catalog of divine documents, noticed the change in his aura. She stopped writing and followed his gaze to the detector.

"Are you sure that little guy is capable of taking over this entire small dimension?"

Destroyer shrugged: "Who knows? But if he can consume it, the future God Realm will have one more God-King and dozens of new gods."

Next door to Lin Yu, Qian Daoliu opened his eyes and looked at Qian Renxue, who had just emerged from her communion with the angel god.

Only her grandfather was present, and since she needed to meet with the angel god to communicate, Qian Renxue removed her disguise as Xue Qinghe and reverted to her female identity.

Her facial features were much softer than when she was in disguise; the curve of her brow bone was more gentle, and the lines of her jaw were more rounded. Under the light, her profile resembled a meticulously crafted traditional Chinese painting, with each stroke exquisitely precise. However, her face was somewhat pale, a thin layer of sweat glistened on her forehead, and her breathing was more rapid than usual.

Although her grandfather acted as a medium to build a bridge for communication, it was still too difficult for her to directly communicate with the angel god with her current mental strength.

Spiritual communication demands far greater endurance than a battle of soul power. Her consciousness, in the face of the angel god's immense will, was like a small boat adrift on a turbulent sea, easily capsized.

Her temples were still throbbing, and irregular colorful spots of light occasionally flashed across the edge of her vision—the aftereffects of mental exhaustion.

Although she was quite exhausted, Qian Renxue's eyes shone with light after receiving the angel's response. Suppressing her restless heart, Qian Ren—

Xue looked at her grandfather.

"Grandpa," her voice wasn't loud, but each word was spoken with great steadiness, and the last syllable didn't tremble at all, "the angel god supports my acceptance of the divine heart and the creation of my own divine position. I want to try it."

""