Douluo:Starting from the Young Master of Clear Sky Sect

As Hongyan's fingertip blood dripped down, strange runes began to emerge on several ancient bricks scattered across the broken ground.

Buzz, buzz, buzz!! At that moment, the entire ground lit up. Strands of Blood Diamond Light shot up from the earth like fine threads, weaving together into an endless Net of Heaven and Earth—one that could sweep across the entire underground world.

With another resonant hum, a pillar of bloody light erupted from the center of the ground—where the stone statue once stood—piercing through the dome of the earth and shooting straight into the sky.

As this bloody light surged upward, the Blood Diamond Light around the shattered statue grew even more vivid and dazzling. To Tang San, these crimson strands didn't seem like mere light but rather flowing threads of blood, intertwining to form the vast net.

"Is this Blood Web the reason why Soul Rings can't be used in Slaughter City?" Tang San muttered, staring at the net that seemed capable of ensnaring the heavens and earth. He recalled the sensation of his Soul Rings being sealed away.

Ever since entering Slaughter City, he had felt as though his Martial Soul had been trapped in a net, preventing him from summoning it.

Now, without needing any instruction, Tang San raised his left hand high, the emblem on it radiating blinding light. At that moment, something terrifying happened—the red lines in the sky seemed to melt, transforming into a cascade of crimson liquid that poured down.

All the bloody energy churned violently, madly surging into the emblem on the back of his left hand. It felt as though a Domain had been activated, voraciously devouring and absorbing everything.

As the ritual progressed, the bloody energy from the heavens poured into Tang San's body, and his Soul Power began to rise. With the complete awakening of his Rakshasa Martial Soul, his cultivation climbed steadily from level 24—25, 26, 27.

At the same time, his second Martial Soul finally began to take shape. The Blood Moon that had appeared during his first Domain manifestation returned, but this time, under its glow, blood condensed as if sketching something into existence.

The Martial Soul had no physical form—just a hovering mass of scarlet, like a blood pool stirred by invisible hands, surging and twisting. Occasionally, it would vaguely resemble limbs before collapsing back into shapelessness.

Above it hung the Blood Moon, roughly the size of a human head, emanating a suffocating dark-red radiance. It resembled both a crimson moon and a rotting, blood-filled eyeball, coldly observing everything. Where its light touched, the ground oozed fine droplets of blood, writhing like living things before gathering into twisted runes.

Tang San's second Martial Soul had no face—or rather, its face was fluid.

After all, this awakening was no ordinary one—it was accompanied by a Soul Power enhancement ritual. Thus, it took a full seven days and nights to complete, by which point Tang San's Soul Power had stabilized at level 30.

Gazing at the eerie and ominous Rakshasa Martial Soul behind him, Tang San couldn't help but ask in confusion, "Mother, why is my Martial Soul different from yours?"

This left Tang San somewhat puzzled. The Six-Winged Angel Martial Souls of Spirit Hall were all identical, with perhaps minor differences, but generally the same.

However, the difference between his Martial Soul and his mother Hongyan's was far too great—completely unrelated. His mother's was a red devil with bulging muscles, while his own had no face, its body resembling flowing blood, and atop its head was a red moon the size of a human skull. To say they were similar would be an understatement—they were entirely different.

Hearing this, Hongyan could only smile bitterly in resignation. "That's because the Rakshasa God has fallen. Look at that statue—only a small fragment remains."

"It's like the Six-Winged Angel Martial Souls of Spirit Hall. Their Martial Souls are projections of the Angel God himself. Awakening a Martial Soul is merely manifesting the Angel God's power as a projection from the soul. That's why the Six-Winged Angel Martial Souls of Spirit Hall look identical to the angel statues within their halls."

"But the Rakshasa God not only fell—even the statues representing his divine power and symbol were destroyed by the Asura God. No one knows what the Rakshasa God truly looked like. So, the form of the Rakshasa Martial Soul is simply the image you conjure in your mind after seeing this broken Rakshasa statue. Whatever you imagine the Rakshasa God to be, that becomes the form of your Martial Soul."

Tang San now turned his gaze to the shattered Rakshasa statue. It was so broken that only a vaguely humanoid shape could be discerned—no face, no hands, nothing but fragments. The rest was left entirely to his imagination.

Perhaps because the first thing Tang San saw upon entering Slaughter City was that purplish-red moon, combined with the incomplete state of the Rakshasa statue, he had envisioned the Rakshasa God as faceless, with a moon hovering above its head. That image had ultimately shaped his Martial Soul.

Of course, whether a Martial Soul was beautiful or hideous didn't matter—what mattered was its strength.

"Now that you've awakened the Rakshasa Martial Soul, place your left hand on the Rakshasa statue."

Hearing his mother's words, Tang San nodded and pressed his left hand against the shattered remains of the statue. He knew this was the beginning of the Rakshasa God's inheritance.

"According to my clan's historical records, the Rakshasa God Trial originally had a maximum of Nine Trials. But ever since the Rakshasa God's fall, no matter what, only up to Three Trials have ever appeared. However, my son, you are not sealed by the Asura God, and you possess Twin Spirits. Perhaps you can create a miracle and restore the glory of the Nine Trials." Hongyan's expression was tense.

Under normal circumstances—like with Spirit Hall's Angel Martial Soul—she, Hongyan, could have qualified for the Eight Trials. But fate had been unkind. With the Rakshasa God's fall and the statue's destruction, there was no divine power left. Now, forget Eight or Nine Trials—even a Fourth Trial was impossible.

The amount of Rakshasa divine power that could be channeled was pitifully small. Even the Rakshasa God's divine artifact was missing. The inheritance was in a truly wretched state.

"It's alright, Mother. What comes is fortune." Tang San was remarkably carefree—likely a result of being raised in the Clear Sky Sect. He wasn't bound by any so-called divine mission.

"Good. That mindset is what matters." Hongyan flicked her sleeve, and a red pillar of light descended from the heavens, enveloping Tang San. Bathed in the light, he felt nothing unusual.

But in the end, no miracle occurred. The Rakshasa God was already dead, and no matter how talented Tang San was, without divine power support, relying solely on the scattered Rakshasa divine energy in this space, it was impossible to sustain the Nine Trials. In the end, there were only three light pillars—only three trials remained.

Seeing this, Hongyan's eyes couldn't help but reveal a dim, sorrowful expression. Indeed, the Rakshasa God had truly fallen. No miracle, no hope—even the divine seat had likely been severed by the Asura God.

"Hmm?!"

Boom!!!

At that moment, something unbelievable happened. The entire Ghost Tower—no, the entire Ghost City—was suddenly illuminated by a bloody radiance. The towering Ghost Tower emitted a crimson light that lit up the whole city!