Chapter 62: The Holy Knights
The following day—Spirit City, before the Grand Hall of the Holy Knights.
The faint glow of early morning sunlight spilled across the pristine white marble plaza, where twelve knights already stood in formation.
They were clad in matching heavy armor of white and gold—armor that shimmered with a sacred luster in the morning light—each bearing the exquisite emblem of a six-winged angel engraved upon their breastplates.
Each knight stood as straight and rigid as a spear; their auras were concentrated and austere, and the gazes beneath their helmets were as sharp as a hawk’s.
This was one of the Spirit Hall’s most elite forces: a squad of the Holy Knights. To gain entry into the Holy Knights, one required a minimum cultivation level of Spirit Emperor.
At the head of the formation stood a woman with sharp, short golden hair, meticulously polishing her helmet.
Her features were heroic and spirited, and her eyes—though lively—held a distinct glint of untamed defiance. Hearing the sound of approaching footsteps, she looked up; upon seeing who it was, she immediately broke into a smile, waved her hand, and called out:
"Sister Xue!"
By now, Qian Renxue had also donned a suit of custom-tailored white-and-gold knight’s armor.
Unlike standard heavy plate, this armor was not at all cumbersome; instead, it fit her slender figure perfectly, featuring agile scale-like articulations at the joints that ensured robust defense without sacrificing mobility.
She walked to the front of the formation and nodded to Tian Yue: "Is everything ready?"
"Everything is ready!" Tian Yue replied, holding her helmet tucked beneath her arm as she delivered her report in rapid-fire succession.
"According to the plan, we will first head to the Barrak Kingdom... then proceed to the Fasinuo Province to conduct an investigation, and finally travel south to inspect the Pelagi Kingdom within the Star Luo Empire."
Qian Renxue nodded and walked toward one side of the plaza, where thirteen magnificent mounts were tethered.
The most striking among them was her own steed.
Pure white from head to hoof, it possessed a majestic, dragon-like head with a pale-gold, diamond-shaped gem shimmering brightly upon its forehead.
White dragon scales extended from its brow down along its spine all the way to its tail; whenever its four hooves struck the ground, the faint sounds of wind and thunder seemed to echo forth.
A five-thousand-year-old Soul Beast: the Heavenly Dragon Steed.
Possessing a trace of true dragon blood, it excelled in both speed and endurance, and was particularly sensitive to the presence of evil auras.
"Mount up." Qian Renxue vaulted into the saddle, her movements as fluid and graceful as flowing water.
The remaining twelve knights responded in unison, each swiftly mounting their own steeds.
Although their warhorses could not rival the magnificent Heavenly Dragon Steed, they were nonetheless hand-picked—their muscles bulging with power, their eyes burning with fierce intensity.
Qian Renxue gave a tug on the reins; the Heavenly Dragon Steed let out a clear, resonant neigh, then broke into a trot, heading toward the city gates.
The twelve knights followed close behind in a protective formation.
The rhythmic beat of their hooves echoed through the early-morning air of Spirit City, drawing the attention of passersby along the route, who turned to watch and offer their respectful salutes.
...
Spirit City—atop its towering, majestic walls.
Seven figures had appeared upon the ramparts at some unknown moment.
They were none other than the Seven Great Enshriners of the Hall of Enshriners.
Golden Crocodile Douluo, Azure Phoenix Douluo, Lion Douluo, Light Feather Douluo, Thousand-Ton Douluo, Demon-Subduing Douluo—and at their head, the Great Enshriner himself: Qian Daoliu.
Their gazes followed the small cavalry detachment as it gradually receded into the distance, watching until that solitary figure clad in platinum-gold vanished beyond the horizon.
After a long moment, Azure Phoenix Douluo let out a soft sigh, breaking the silence: "Second Brother, that girl of yours—Tian Yue—is in that squad as well. Are you truly at ease with that?"
Golden Crocodile Douluo stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his expression stern and authoritative; yet, a flicker of almost imperceptible worry still crossed his eyes.
"Young eagles must eventually leave the nest. Besides, with Xue’er leading the team—you and I both know just how capable she is."
"That may be true," Light Feather Douluo interjected—the youngest-looking of the Enshriners, speaking in a tone that was the most lively and spirited among them.
"But those ’Fallen Ones’ are a treacherous lot; they are cunning and insidious, willing to resort to any despicable trick in the book. Although Xue’er possesses extraordinary talent, she is still relatively inexperienced. And then there’s Tian Yue—that girl is utterly reckless..."
He paused, then turned to look at Qian Daoliu, his eyes gleaming with eagerness: "First Brother, don’t stop me this time. Just let me shadow them from a distance? I give you my word: I won’t intervene unless they are facing a life-or-death crisis!"
"I’m just taking a look—just in case some reckless leader of the Fallen, at the Titled Douluo level no less, decides to rear their head."
Qian Daoliu’s gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon as he fell silent for a long while.
The various Enshriners held their breath in anticipation.
Giving young people the freedom to venture out on their own is an inevitable part of growing up; yet, who could truly feel at ease letting go completely?
Finally, Qian Daoliu spoke slowly, his voice tinged with a hint of helplessness: "Go."
"You got it!" Light Feather Douluo instantly beamed with delight. With a mere flicker of his form, he drifted down from the city battlements like a wisp of smoke, vanishing into the horizon in the blink of an eye—heading precisely in the direction Qian Renxue’s squad had taken.
"Hey! That old geezer beat me to it!" Lion Douluo exclaimed in frustration, slapping his hand against a crenellation on the city wall.
"Exactly! I wanted to go, too," Jiangmo Douluo grumbled, crossing his arms.
The Enshriners exchanged glances, offering only wry smiles. Light Feather Douluo’s Martial Soul was a rare, top-tier bow-and-arrow type; excelling in ultra-long-range sniping and stealth, he was indeed the most suitable candidate for providing covert protection.
Qian Daoliu cast one final glance at the now-empty thoroughfare before turning away: "Let’s head back. Ultimately, the path the children walk must be one they traverse on their own."
...
Five days later, deep within the territory of the Barak Kingdom, in a remote mountain village.
It was nearing dusk; the lingering sun hung in the sky like a drop of blood, casting an ominous crimson glow over the village’s humble earthen walls and thatched roofs.
About a mile outside the village, a group of figures had gathered in silence.
There were over twenty of them in total, all clad in pitch-black robes and wearing a variety of grotesque masks fashioned from metal or bone.
A faint, wispy aura of grayish-black energy swirled around them—the foul spiritual power accumulated from years of practicing dark arts and devouring the vital essence of living beings.
The leader of the group was a towering figure; his mask was shaped like a wailing demon, and the eyes visible through its slits glowed with a blood-red light.
He took a deep breath; the faint scent of life force permeating the air caused him to narrow his eyes in intoxicated delight.
"Heh-heh-heh..." He let out a low, eerie chuckle—a sound rendered even more distorted as it filtered through his mask.
"What sweet, vital energy... If I can just harvest two more villages and absorb enough life essence, I will surely break through the Level 50 threshold and become a Soul King! Once that happens, who in this entire region could possibly stand in my way?"
He slowly raised his hand, poised to issue the command.
At that very moment, a cold, female voice—sounding like a sudden clap of thunder—exploded from behind them.
"A pack of filthy vermin—do you truly think yourselves worthy of defiling this land?"
"Prepare to meet your end!!"
The figures in black robes spun around in sheer terror.
Before their eyes, thirteen white-armored knights—descending upon them like divine soldiers—were charging forward at astonishing speed!
Their horses’ hooves pounded against the earth, creating a dull, thunderous roar like the beating of drums.
The gem embedded in the forehead of the lead knight’s white, dragon-headed steed erupted with a blinding, sacred golden light. It completely dispelled the dim twilight glow, starkly illuminating the twisted, terrified expressions on the faces of the black-robed figures.
"The Holy Knights?! How is this possible?! We’re so far from Spirit City..."
"It’s the Angels! The Angels!"
"Run! Run for your lives—!"
The moment they clearly perceived the three pairs of golden light wings—forged entirely from pure light and sacred soul power—unfolding behind the leading knight, every single Fallen Soul Master was instantly struck with sheer terror.
"Fallen Ones—your sins are unforgivable!"
Qian Renxue’s voice was devoid of even the slightest trace of emotion.
She made a grasping motion with her right hand, and a massive golden greatsword materialized out of thin air.
She did not even employ a single Soul Skill; she simply swung her sword.
Swoosh!
A crescent-shaped golden blade-beam swept outward with a speed that exceeded the visual processing capabilities of most Soul Masters.
The three black-robed figures at the very front—along with the defensive Soul Skills they had hastily unleashed—were sliced cleanly in two, as effortlessly as a hot knife cutting through butter.
The remaining twelve Holy Knights fanned out in perfect unison, slashing ruthlessly into the chaotic mass of black-robed figures.
The battle was little more than a one-sided slaughter.
Every member of the Holy Knights possessed the Light attribute—or a closely related affinity—granting them an overwhelming natural counter against the sinister, twisted soul power of the Fallen Ones.
Coupled with the suppressive aura of Qian Renxue’s Angel Martial Soul, these Fallen Soul Masters—most of whom were merely at Rank 20 or 30—were utterly incapable of mounting any effective resistance.
Screams of agony, the clash of colliding Soul Skills, and the sickening crunch of shattering bone filled the air without cease.
One black-robed figure, watching his companions fall like stalks of wheat, saw his psychological defenses completely crumble. He collapsed to his knees with a thud, tearing off his mask to reveal a pale, twisted face streaming with tears and snot.
"Mercy! Have mercy, Lady Angel! I surrender! I am willing to go to the City of Slaughter to serve my sentence! I beg of you..."
The tip of the golden sword came to a halt just half an inch from his throat.