Chapter 82: Pope Qian Renhan

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Three days later, at the Spirit Hall. 

Qian Renhan sat upon the Pope's throne, draped in a regal black-and-gold robe. Below him, Chrysanthemum Douluo, Ghost Douluo, and nearly twenty red-robed bishops knelt on one knee in unison. 

"Greetings, Your Holiness!" 

Not a single person present dared to show even the slightest hint of disrespect toward the youngest Pope in the history of the Spirit Hall. After all, this ruthless man had personally deposed the previous Pope, ascending to power by stepping over his predecessor's downfall. 

Rumors ran rampant. Some claimed that the former Pope had been expelled from Spirit City by none other than the young man before them. Others whispered that even Sword Douluo and Bone Douluo from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect had been severely wounded by him, forcing Ning Fengzhi to pay a ransom of two billion gold soul coins to retrieve them. 

The Heaven Dou Empire had once deployed a four-hundred-thousand-strong army to besiege this very Pope—yet for some inexplicable reason, they suddenly withdrew without a fight. 

These chilling accounts left the red-robed bishops deeply shaken. 

As for the Pope before the previous one, Qian Xunji, the moment Qian Renhan ascended to the throne, he had him thrown into Spirit Hall's most luxurious prison. 

The treatment, however, was extravagant—akin to a five-star hotel, with top-tier nutrition provided daily. After all, he was still his father. Even though he had become a degenerate criminal, his crimes were committed in the name of Spirit Hall's future. 

But the sewing machine still had to be pedaled—several hours every day. 

A former Pope sitting in prison, operating a sewing machine—this was something unprecedented in the history of Douluo Continent. The psychological torment far outweighed any physical punishment. And that was the cruelest revenge Qian Renhan could inflict upon Qian Xunji's soul. 

As for Qian Daoliu, the High Priest and divine servant of the Angel God, he was powerless to interfere with the actions of Qian Renhan, the deity's chosen inheritor. His only hope was to seek guidance from the Angel God's divine will. 

But no matter how devoutly he prayed to the sacred statue of the Angel God, his calls went unanswered. 

— 

Qian Renhan leaned his head against his palm, gazing lazily down at the gathered bishops. Then, his voice, laced with authority, rang through the hall. 

"As this is my first decree as Pope, I have three major orders to announce." 

"First, the Spirit Hall will no longer provide free martial soul awakenings for the people of the continent. A fee of ten gold soul coins per person will be required." 

A wave of shock rippled through the assembled bishops. 

"Second, the Spirit Hall's soul master subsidy program is abolished. Only soul masters from Spirit Hall's academies will be eligible for financial support." 

The bishops' expressions stiffened further, their shock intensifying. 

"Third, all patrol units stationed in the Soul Hunting Forest and across the empires shall be withdrawn. The Spirit Hall will no longer provide free suppression of rogue soul masters. Instead, a service fee will be instituted: five gold soul coins for a Soul Master, fifty for a Grand Soul Master, five hundred for a Soul Elder… and five billion gold soul coins for a Titled Douluo." 

"Does anyone object?" 

The moment these words left his lips, every bishop in the hall, including Chrysanthemum and Ghost Douluo, stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. 

Was the Pope out of his mind?! 

The reason Spirit Hall had become the sanctuary of soul masters and a beacon of hope for commoners was because it upheld order—hunting down rogue soul masters, ensuring the stability of the people's lives, providing free martial soul awakenings, and offering financial aid to civilian soul masters. 

Now, he was demanding payment for soul suppression? And at exorbitant prices?! 

Where were commoners supposed to get that kind of money? 

Spirit Hall was meant to serve the people and uphold peace—but under these policies, wouldn't it become nothing more than a tool for the nobility? 

A trembling red-robed bishop finally spoke, his voice cautious. "Your Holiness… this may not be appropriate." 

Qian Renhan's gaze lifted slightly. "Oh? How so?" 

The bishop swallowed hard before replying, "Your Holiness, our Spirit Hall's core belief is to protect the peace and order of the continent. With this new policy, the common people will be unable to afford our services. If that happens… we will lose their trust." 

Qian Renhan chuckled. 

"Lose their trust? Oh, I am well aware that they cannot afford it." 

"That is why… I will give them another option." 

"From this day forth, all Spirit Hall branches across the continent shall erect statues of the Six-Winged Angel Goddess in every town and village." 

"Any impoverished commoner who sincerely kneels before the Angel Goddess and prays devoutly… shall be granted the right to a martial soul awakening and receive aid in suppressing rogue soul masters."

"Faith? Does It Even Matter?" 

Qian Renhan's gaze swept across the kneeling bishops as he spoke with icy conviction. 

"I am offering their descendants the opportunity to become soul masters for free, along with the guarantee of safety. In exchange, is it not reasonable to expect them to kneel before the Angel Goddess?" 

He let out a disdainful chuckle. 

"And as for public sentiment?" 

His lips curled into a sneer. "Does public sentiment even matter?" 

"The Upper Three Sects have stood at the pinnacle of the soul master world for countless years, yet their contributions to the continent pale in comparison to ours. And yet, in the hearts of the people, they are still revered as untouchable legends." 

"The people respect Spirit Hall, but not because we provide free martial soul awakenings or eliminate rogue soul masters at no cost. Those factors may play a minor role, but ultimately, they respect us for one reason—we are the strongest force in the soul master world." 

His voice grew colder. 

"Make no mistake—these three decrees are not up for discussion. They are orders. If any of you are dissatisfied, you are free to leave Spirit Hall." 

The red-robed bishops exchanged uneasy glances. But few dared to move. 

The so-called faith in the Angel God had long since faded from the Douluo Continent. Most of the bishops—including Chrysanthemum and Ghost Douluo—had joined Spirit Hall not out of devotion but for power, wealth, and status. 

In the face of money and authority, conscience was worthless. 

Yet, after a brief silence, an elderly bishop—his hair white as snow, his face lined with the marks of age—stepped forward. He spoke respectfully, but with firm resolve. 

"Your Holiness, I wish to resign from Spirit Hall." 

His voice carried both dignity and sorrow. "I have dedicated my life to this institution because I believed in its ideals. But your policies go against the very principles that led me to join. Spirit Hall is no longer what it once was. It is no longer a place I can belong." 

Qian Renhan remained unfazed. 

"As you wish." 

He closed his eyes, indifferent to those who chose to leave. 

The truth was, very few within Spirit Hall still genuinely cared about the well-being of the soul master world. The majority were here for their own survival and benefits. As long as their salaries were secured, Spirit Hall's ranks would remain vast. 

The more Qian Renhan understood the reality of Douluo Continent, the more he realized—being a 'good person' was meaningless. 

Just look at Seagod Island. 

After the Seagod ascended, what did his followers do? Nothing. 

The Seven Sacred Pillar Douluo merely stood guard over the Seagod's relics. Bo Saixi, the high priestess, was bound to the island, unable to leave. The island's rules were absolute—anyone who passed the Seagod's trials was forbidden from leaving. 

And yet, despite doing nothing, the Seagod still commanded the faith of the entire ocean. 

Not a single sea spirit beast failed to revere his name. 

For the soul masters of Seagod Island, their devotion made sense—they received blessings from the Seagod's trials. But what about the sea soul beasts? 

What had the Seagod ever done for them? 

Nothing. 

And yet, those same sea soul beasts willingly worshiped him. 

The Deep Sea Demonic Whale King and the Evil Demon Orca King—they were still waiting for Qian Renhan's blade to sever their heads. 

And then there was Spirit Hall itself. 

It had spent centuries awakening martial souls for free, hunting rogue soul masters without compensation, and even signing agreements with Slaughter City to imprison criminals. 

And in return? 

Nothing. 

Not even the faith of the Angel God. 

How many people on the continent even remembered the Angel God's name? 

Take Shrek Academy, for instance. It was built outside a backwater village near Soto City, a place exploited by the Barak Kingdom's royal family. The academy's students ran laps around the city for months, and yet, not once did the oppressed commoners pray to the Angel God for salvation. 

Even Barak Kingdom, a nation bordering Spirit Hall's territory, showed no sign of faith in the Angel God. 

And the two great empires? 

They were even worse. 

That was the truth about the people of this continent—treat them well, and you will get nothing in return. Treat them cruelly, and they will learn to obey. 

And so, Qian Renhan had already made his decision. 

To rule Douluo, one could not be kind. 

Only fear could bring them to their knees. 

(End of Chapter)