Douluo: Martial Soul White Tiger, I Am the White Emperor of Heaven!

The Seventh Floor, Iron Door…

What could possibly be inside the seventh floor that made Bibi Dong so serious and specifically warn him about it?

Dai Chengfeng's mind was brimming with curiosity.

But outwardly, he obediently replied: "Teacher, I understand."

"Good. Follow me in then."

Soon, the two entered the library.

Contrary to expectations of opulence, towering sandalwood bookshelves, each two zhang high, lined both sides.

Row upon row, neatly arranged.

If not for Bibi Dong standing beside him and the six-winged angel insignia of the Spirit Hall engraved on the edges of every shelf—emanating an awe-inspiring pressure—Dai Chengfeng might have mistaken this for just an ordinary library at some academy.

As Dai Chengfeng curiously surveyed his surroundings, he suddenly felt three faint fluctuations of soul power sweep over him.

But as soon as they touched Bibi Dong, they receded like a retreating tide.

Could these be the hidden guardian Title Douluos of the library?

Dai Chengfeng pondered.

Under Bibi Dong's guidance, the two moved unimpeded until they reached the sixth floor of the Spirit Hall's library.

The air here was peculiar, noticeably thicker, with every breath carrying the metallic scent of blood and rust.

The walls weren't lit by ordinary crystals but by spirit gems crafted from the eyes of soul beasts.

Those eerie green pupils subtly turned as Dai Chengfeng approached, as if scrutinizing the intruder.

"That's it."

Bibi Dong stopped and reminded Dai Chengfeng once more: "Remember!"

"If you see an iron door leading to the seventh floor, do not be curious. The consequences are beyond what you can bear!"

Her voice was low and icy, her Pope's robes billowing without wind.

"Don't worry, Teacher."

Dai Chengfeng nodded again, but his curiosity only grew stronger.

What exactly was on the seventh floor?

Was someone imprisoned there?

But as far as he recalled from the original work, nothing like that had been mentioned.

Perhaps he was overthinking it?

Bibi Dong gave a slight nod. "Then go ahead and find the soul skill you want."

"Yes."

Soon, Dai Chengfeng left Bibi Dong's side and began wandering between the bookshelves on the sixth floor.

The sixth floor wasn't particularly large, and the shelves weren't as tall as those on the first floor—only three rows in total.

"Soul skills self-created by Title Douluos…"

Thinking this, Dai Chengfeng picked up a book at random, intending to gauge the strength of the skills stored here.

The first thing that caught his eye was a soul skill called Nine Nether Soul Devouring Claw.

Flipping through it briefly, the book described a technique where the user infused their soul power into their claws, creating a corrosive toxic mist capable of destroying anything. Its power was extraordinary.

"Not bad—it could probably allow cross-tier combat."

Dai Chengfeng nodded, then flipped open another book titled Thunder Prison Heaven Suppression Manual.

This one described a technique that could condense the thunder energy within a hundred-meter radius into a cage to trap enemies.

However, its downside was that it consumed a third of the user's soul power and caused severe backlash, leaving the spirit master temporarily paralyzed after use.

Next…

Dai Chengfeng wandered around, stopping intermittently to examine over a dozen more self-created soul skills. Each one was impressive in its own right.

"No wonder they're soul skills created by Title Douluos—they're all powerful. But unfortunately…"

"They're not suitable for me."

Just as Dai Chengfeng lamented their strength while regretting their unsuitability, his gaze was suddenly drawn to a glaring crimson hue at the bottom of a bookshelf.

It was an ancient tome titled Bloodbath for a Hundred Miles.

The cover was made from the hide of some ferocious beast, its surface covered in fine scales that shimmered with an eerie metallic sheen under the light.

"Bloodbath for a Hundred Miles?"

Curious, Dai Chengfeng picked up this distinctly colored ancient book.

The moment he touched it, a bone-chilling coldness seeped into his palm—it was killing intent!

"A book imbued with killing intent? Interesting!"

Smiling, Dai Chengfeng opened the first page of Bloodbath for a Hundred Miles. Suddenly, the character for "kill," drawn in cinnabar on the yellowed animal skin paper, erupted in blinding red light. Countless tiny blood-red runes rose from the page, forming a vision of an Asura battlefield in midair.

Hundreds of spirit masters slaughtered each other, their thick blood pooling into rivers. Severed limbs floating in the river transformed into grotesque vengeful spirits…

Soon, the phenomenon vanished.

Dai Chengfeng grew even more curious and continued reading.

"Using killing intent as a guide, burning blood as flame…"

He discovered that this soul skill not only amplified the user's presence and suppressed opponents—similar to the Killing God Domain—but more importantly…

It allowed the user to burn killing intent as "fuel," granting them temporary power far beyond their current level to unleash a devastating attack.

As for its potency?

It entirely depended on the amount of killing intent within the user.

"This soul skill…"

Dai Chengfeng's eyes lit up. "It suits me perfectly."

"After all, my killing intent is already enough to form a Killing God Domain!"

"If I use this soul skill, its power might…"

However, just as Dai Chengfeng inwardly rejoiced, Bibi Dong appeared beside him, seemingly out of nowhere.

She glanced at the Bloodbath for a Hundred Miles in Dai Chengfeng's hands. "I figured you might choose this book, given that you, like me, possess the Killing God Domain."

Shaking her head, Bibi Dong said, "Don't choose this skill—it's flashy but impractical."

"Flashy but impractical?"

Dai Chengfeng looked puzzled and asked curiously: "Teacher, what do you mean?"

"The drawbacks of this soul skill are enormous!"

Upon hearing this, Bibi Dong explained: "Its demands on the physical body are simply too high—so high that before it can harm the enemy, the user's body often succumbs to the erosion of killing intent."

"More importantly…"

"The more killing intent used, the greater the pressure on the body during execution, making it easier to collapse."

"Based on the total amount of killing intent within you…"

"Even though your family's White Tiger spirit typically grants strong physical bodies, they absolutely cannot withstand the side effects of using this soul skill!"

"Is that so?"

Outwardly, Dai Chengfeng appeared disappointed, but inwardly, he was delighted.

Bibi Dong didn't know about his Vajra Indestructible Body.

Perhaps others couldn't handle it, but his body, tempered by both sacred herbs and innate cultivation techniques, would have no problem!

Thinking this, Dai Chengfeng looked at Bibi Dong. "Teacher, I still want to choose it."

"It suits me well, and I'd like to try optimizing this soul skill!"

"You…"

Bibi Dong was about to refuse—after all, she had already pointed out the flaws of this soul skill, yet Dai Chengfeng insisted on choosing it.

Wouldn't this waste the opportunity to enter the sixth floor?

However…

She suddenly remembered that Dai Chengfeng had managed to create his own Killing God Domain and possessed a novel usage of the domain that she herself had repeatedly failed to master.

Perhaps he really could optimize it?

That wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing.

With this thought, Bibi Dong no longer objected and nodded. "Alright, I respect your choice."

"Since you've finished selecting, we should leave now."

"Yes."

Dai Chengfeng nodded, and the two walked toward the exit of the library, one after the other.

Thud-thud-thud…

At this moment, Dai Chengfeng's mind was consumed by thoughts of the Bloodbath for a Hundred Miles. He kept imagining how astonishing the power of this soul skill would be when executed with his overwhelming killing intent.

Until…

He realized something was amiss and snapped out of his thoughts.

Only then did he notice the surrounding scene had completely changed.

Bibi Dong had vanished without a trace, replaced by thick black fog as dark as ink.

The ground beneath his feet had inexplicably turned into sticky black liquid, and with every step, he could feel countless tiny tendrils tugging at the soles of his boots.

In the distance, a black iron door glowed faintly, appearing silently.

"Rakshasa God?!"

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