Douluo Continent: My name is Yang Jian, and I achieved sainthood through my physical body

The two weeks passed faster than I expected.

Qian Renxue has completed the first round of purges in the Heaven Dou Empire.

The names on the list were removed from the court one by one in less than half a month.

Those who were kicked out of the center of power were either exiled to the border or imprisoned in the Ministry of Justice.

A small number disappeared into the mansion one night, as if they had never existed.

The court of the Heavenly Dou Empire has a new face.

After a brief period of discomfort, the new faces quickly settled into their respective roles.

The massive and cumbersome imperial machine is adjusting its direction of operation at a faster pace than expected.

When Yang Jian returned to the Spirit Hall, the atmosphere in the main hall was completely different from what it had been half a month ago.

Everyone's faces were filled with barely suppressed excitement and anticipation, as if they were waiting for a moment to come.

Yang Jian stood at the entrance of the Spirit Hall, gazing at the pale golden clouds on the distant horizon illuminated by the setting sun.

It's like waiting for a predetermined moment to arrive naturally.

The sunlight outlined a bright silhouette at the edge of the clouds.

The entire sky was dyed in a gradient of colors from light gold to dark purple.

He stood there, his hands hanging at his sides, his breathing steady and deep.

Then he sensed that aura.

The breath came from a very distant place, pouring down from a certain direction in the sky.

It felt as if something extremely heavy was pressing down on the ground at an unstoppable speed.

The stench was strong and putrid, carrying an indescribable sense of evil.

It was like a darkness that had been buried for too long being pried open.

An aura sealed for many years surged out from the cracks, carrying a stale, fishy smell and a coldness that did not belong to this world.

He frowned slightly.

The scent was both familiar and strange.

Like a silhouette deep in memory, repainted with a new layer of color.

The outline is still the same, but the surface covering is completely different.

He turned and walked out of the main hall, looking up at the sky.

The sunlight fell on his face, making his features exceptionally clear.

A person is standing in the sky.

The person floated high in the sky, covered in dark purple armor.

The armor is made up of fine scales and sharp, angular plates, with sharp, twisting lines.

It looks like it was cast from some living material.

The edges of the armor were slowly writhing, constantly changing tiny shapes, as if something beneath them was breathing.

Her hair peeked out from the gaps in her armor, draping over her shoulders and back, and was blown about by the wind from above.

The strands of hair fluttered and gathered in the wind, as if they had their own will.

She looked down at the Spirit Hall, her gaze cold and indifferent.

Those eyes held no emotion, like someone standing on high looking down at the ground.

All I could see in my eyes was a pale, blank space.

There was no anger or hatred in his gaze, only a distant and empty look down upon something as insignificant as an ant.

Like a frozen lake, it reflects nothing.

She was surrounded by a dark purple light.

Occasionally, a few scarlet lines flashed in the light, like living veins, flowing slowly across the surface of the armor and in the air.

Each flash brought with it a subtle fluctuation of soul power.

Bibi Dong is back.

She completed the divine trial in a shorter time than expected, and the divine position had been completely integrated into her soul.

She stood there, radiating the oppressive aura unique to deities.

Within moments, the entire Spirit Hall was thrown into chaos.

Someone recognized her and backed away, hiding deeper into the main hall, not even bothering to pick up what they had dropped on the ground.

Some people stood still, looking up at the figure, their mouths slightly open.

My brain felt stuck and couldn't function; my eyes were staring blankly into the air.

Some people hid behind pillars or against walls, only daring to peek up with half their faces showing, their faces as pale as paper.

Everyone's eyes were filled with fear and unease.

The murmurs spread through the crowd like ripples on water, and everyone wore the same expression.

Yang Jian's body slowly rose.

Passing through surging fear and panic, passing through scattered figures and peering eyes.

It rose to the same height as Bibi Dong and stopped in mid-air.

He didn't rush to speak, but simply looked at her quietly.

My gaze lingered on that completely unfamiliar face for a long time.

Like someone trying to identify an old photograph that has been altered too much by time.

Then his voice carried on steadily, neither too loud nor too soft:

"Teacher, does it really have to come to this?"

“If you stop now, I can help you suppress the will of the Rakshasa God and return you to your former state.”

“I never intended to kill you; I just wanted you to return to normal.”

Why did you have to push yourself to this point?

Bibi Dong did not answer.

She spread her arms in the air, and the huge dark purple scythe condensed and took shape in her palms.

The hilt is long and slender, the blade is curved into a sharp arc, and dark red mist swirls around the edge.

She gripped the sickle, feeling the power coursing through her body from her palms.

That is the power of the gods, boundless and limitless.

The corners of her mouth slowly curved into a smile.

The smile was particularly dazzling in the dark purple light, with the corners of the eyes and mouth simultaneously pulling upwards, forming an arc.

Laughter welled up from deep in her throat.

It started low and then gradually rose, becoming louder and sharper.

It was like something that had been suppressed for too long finally finding an outlet, echoing in the wind high in the sky.

Her voice poured down, accompanied by laughter:

You are doomed!

The sickle pointed at Yang Jian, and the dark red mist on the blade surged, leaving a trail in the air.

"You, and everyone in the Spirit Hall, and everyone you know, will die!"

Chapter 238 Yang Jian: You've Chosen the Wrong Direction

Bibi Dong's voice was filled with certainty.

“I will kill them one by one and let you taste what it feels like to watch everything be taken away.”

"Don't you have an older brother and a younger sister? I'll lock you in a cage and make you watch them die one by one in front of you."

"You think you can stop me? Do you think you have the strength to stop a god?"

Yang Jian did not answer.

He simply looked at her quietly, as if confirming a fact that was already irreversible.

Then he sighed.

The sigh was short and soft, like a breath being slowly released.

It's like someone who, after a long wait, finally confirms the outcome they already knew.

His gaze shifted from Bibi Dong's distorted face, and he lowered his eyes slightly.

It's as if a decision was made during that brief silence.

Then he spoke, his tone still calm:

"Let's find another place; we can't operate freely here."

Bibi Dong let out a cold laugh, which echoed in the sky and was particularly jarring.

"No trade. Right here, let your men see how you die!"

She raised her scythe slightly, and the dark red mist on the blade began to condense, instantly forming a drop of blood, compressed to its limit, on the tip of the blade.

Yang Jian did not argue, nor did he continue to persuade him.

His figure vanished from the spot.

It moved so fast that it left a faint afterimage in the air.

Before the afterimage had even faded, he had already appeared in front of Bibi Dong.

He threw out his right fist, and the force of the punch instantly compressed the air in front of him.