Douluo Continent: The Twin Holy Dragons of Light and Darkness, the Dragon Emperor Breaks Through the

Behind the door was a dark passageway, long and seemingly endless.

Ling Feng stepped inside.

At intervals along the walls on both sides of the passage, there is an oil lamp, its dim light casting dappled shadows on the stone walls.

His footsteps echoed through the passage, mingling with the sound of dripping water from somewhere in the distance, creating a strange rhythm.

At the end of the passage was a wooden door.

Ling Feng pushed open the door, and inside was a stone chamber.

The stone chamber was small, only about ten feet square, with a stone chair in the center and a man sitting on it.

The man was tall with snow-white hair, a cold face, and blood-red eyes.

He wore a blood-red robe embroidered with gold patterns, and held a long sword in his hand. The sword was entirely black, with dark red patterns on the blade.

Tang Chen, a level 99 peerless Douluo, the king of the Slaughter City, and the representative of the Asura God in the human world.

He looked at Ling Feng, his blood-red eyes showing no surprise, no anger, no curiosity, only an unchanging calm, like a dead man, or a god.

"Level 85 Soul Douluo," Tang Chen said, his voice deep and cold as ice. "You think you can kill me?"

Ling Feng looked at him.

"Whether level 85 is enough or not, we'll only know after we try it."

Tang Chen stared at him, her blood-red eyes lingering on him for a long time, as if she were looking at an interesting toy.

Suddenly, he laughed, a ferocious and cruel laugh.

"Interesting. I haven't met such an interesting person in a long time."

He stood up.

His physique was even more imposing than Ling Feng had imagined, nearly ten feet tall, standing there like a mountain.

The long sword in his hand gleamed with a cold, eerie light in the candlelight.

"Come on," Tang Chen raised his longsword, "let me see what you're capable of."

Ling Feng raised the Panlong Staff, and the power of the Holy Dragon of Light instantly covered his entire body, illuminating the entire stone chamber with silvery-white light.

Tang Chen's pupils contracted slightly as he saw the silvery-white light, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.

"The Holy Dragon of Light?" His voice held a hint of disbelief.

"Are you the successor of the Holy Dragon of Light?"

Ling Feng didn't speak, he just gripped the Panlong Staff tightly.

Tang Chen looked at him and suddenly smiled, a smile that carried a hint of relief.

"Very well. I have been waiting for you for many years."

Ling Feng didn't understand why he said that.

But Tang Chen didn't give him time to think. He raised his longsword and slashed at Ling Feng.

Ling Feng's coiled dragon staff clashed with Tang Chen's longsword.

In that instant, the entire stone chamber trembled, and cracks spread from the floor to the ceiling on the walls, as dense as a spider web.

Gravel fell from above, hitting the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust.

Ling Feng was sent flying backward, crashing into the stone wall and creating a human-shaped dent.

His tiger's mouth split open, and blood dripped down the coiled dragon staff, dripping onto the bluestone ground with a sizzling sound.

Tang Chen remained completely still.

"Level 85, able to withstand one of my sword strikes, not bad."

Tang Chen's voice was deep and cold, like ancient ice, devoid of any emotion.

He glanced down at his longsword, which was stained with a silvery-white light—the power of the Holy Dragon of Light.

The light flickered on the sword a few times, as if trying to penetrate it, but was repelled by the sword's own killing intent and eventually dissipated into the air.

Tang Chen's brow twitched slightly.

"The power of the Holy Dragon of Light is indeed a counter to the City of Slaughter."

It's a pity you're too weak.

He raised his longsword, and the blood-red runes on the blade began to glow. A terrifying killing intent surged from the sword, like an invisible giant hand reaching out to grab Ling Feng.

Ling Feng did not retreat.

He gritted his teeth and activated the power of the Holy Dragon of Light within his body. Silver-white light erupted from his body, colliding head-on with the killing intent.

The collision of light and killing intent produced no sound, no roar, no explosion, only a silent annihilation.

Wherever the silvery-white light passed, the murderous aura melted away as quickly as ice and snow under the sun.

A hint of surprise flashed in Tang Chen's eyes.

"good.

It can neutralize my murderous intent.

He sheathed his longsword, took a step back, and looked at Ling Feng.

A hint of appreciation appeared in those blood-red eyes.

"I have lived for over a hundred years and have seen countless geniuses, but you are the first person who can neutralize my killing intent at level 85."

He paused, "Your Holy Light Dragon is your second martial soul?"

Ling Feng nodded.

"Yes."

"Awakened at six years old?"

Ling Feng nodded again.

Tang Chen remained silent for a moment.

"Does Qian Daoliu know?"

Ling Feng looked at him without saying a word.

Tang Chen suddenly laughed, a smile that was both ferocious and complex.

Of course he knows.

That old fox, nothing can be hidden from him.

He's kept you hidden for so many years, all for this day.

He raised his longsword and pointed it at Ling Feng.

"Unfortunately, he underestimated me."

Tang Chen took a step forward, his entire body transforming into a streak of blood-red light as he lunged towards Ling Feng.

Its speed was astonishing; even Ling Feng's mental energy couldn't detect it.

He felt a terrifying killing intent rushing towards him, and with no time to dodge, he could only raise his Panlong Staff to block.

One sword.

Two swords.

Three swords.

Each sword strike carried earth-shattering power, and each strike precisely struck the same spot on the Panlong Staff.

Ling Feng's tiger's mouth was completely split open, and blood stained the stick red.

His arms were trembling, his bones were groaning, and his soul power was rapidly draining away.

But he didn't fall; he gritted his teeth and retreated step by step.

Tang Chen's sword was getting faster and faster.

The fourth sword, the fifth sword, the sixth sword, the seventh sword.

Ling Feng could no longer see the trajectory of the sword, and could only parry by feeling.

He had several wounds on his body, some from sword energy, some from gravel, and some from his own dragon-patterned staff.

His silver-white team uniform was soaked in blood, making it impossible to tell which blood was his own and which was someone else's.

His illusory image of the Holy Dragon of Light began to dim, and its power was waning.

Ling Feng finally couldn't block Tang Chen's eighth sword strike.

The dragon-coiled staff flew out of his hand, crashed into the stone wall, and created a crater.

Ling Feng was sent flying backward, crashing heavily to the ground, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

Chapter 196 The Asura God's Hatred

His illusory image of the Holy Dragon of Light completely dissipated, the silvery-white light faded, revealing his original black hair and black eyes.

His eight spirit rings were dull and lifeless, as if they might shatter at any moment.

Tang Chen stood in front of him, looking down at him.

"You lost."

Ling Feng struggled to get up.

His right arm had lost sensation, his left leg was trembling, his soul power was almost exhausted, and the power of the Holy Dragon of Light had been used up.

But he remained standing; he did not fall.

"I didn't lose."

His voice was calm.

Tang Chen looked at him, at his dark eyes.

There was no fear, no despair in those eyes, only a terrifying calm.