Chapter 485: Formerly the Clear Sky Douluo, Now the Wheelchair God of War

When the door of the Moon Pavilion was pushed open.

The midday light slanted in, illuminating the entire hall brightly.

The light was very warm, falling onto the floor as a patch of gentle gold.

Even the dust floating on the beams could be seen clearly, slowly spinning in the pillar of light.

Light like this should have put one’s mind at ease.

But Tang San had no heart to look at this brightness.

His footsteps were very hurried, almost as if he had crashed in.

The soles of his boots scraped a series of hurried sounds against the smooth floor tiles,

until he saw Tang Yuehua sitting beneath the window, whereupon he barely managed to stop his figure.

"Aunt."

His throat moved, and his chest was still heaving: "Where is my dad? I have an urgent matter to see him."

Tang Yuehua raised her head.

She was a woman with gentle eyebrows and eyes, usually speaking unhurriedly, soft and gentle like spring water.

But at this moment, the gentleness in those eyes collapsed by a corner first.

Tang Yuehua sighed softly.

That sigh was very long, as if sighing out whatever was pressing on her chest along with it.

"Come with me."

She stood up, her movements somewhat slow, her voice exceptionally soft,

"Your dad is in the inner room. You father and son should talk properly about whatever matter there is."

She did not explain.

But it was precisely this dare-not-state-plainly that made Tang San’s heart sink even more than any explanation.

He followed behind his aunt, walking inward step by step.

Every step stepped with panic in his heart.

The door to the inner room opened.

The first thing Tang San saw was a wheelchair.

The wheelchair was slowly pushed in from behind the door by someone,

and the first thing that fell into his eyes was that someone was pushing it, while the person on the chair did not move a single bit on his own.

The servant pushing the chair lowered his head, making his footsteps extremely light, as if afraid of disturbing something.

The wheels rolled over the threshold, making a slight sound of obstruction.

Yet that sound rang harshly in the silent room.

Then, he saw clearly the person on the chair.

At that instant, Tang San only felt the blood all over his body turn completely cold.

That was his father.

The once towering Clear Sky Douluo, the man on the continent who made countless powerhouses tremble in fear.

But the person sitting in the wheelchair now,

with all four limbs lost, empty sleeves and trouser legs hanging limply, looked like a withered husk, his cheeks deeply sunken.

With a bang, Tang San’s mind exploded.

Spirit Bone.

It was those two Spirit Bones.

Father had given his own Spirit Bones to him.

Gazing at this incomplete body, he finally understood how heavy the price was.

A Spirit Bone traded away not just his father’s limbs.

But also his vitality and spirit.

He had never seen such a weathered and powerless father.

His throat was tightly blocked by something, unable to spit out even a single word.

His eye sockets burned, and he desperately held back, refusing to let that bit of moisture fall.

"Little San."

Tang Hao spoke first.

His voice was very weak, lacking strength, and even the ends of his words were floating.

Yet looking at his son’s gaze, he managed to force out a trace of a smile.

That little smile tugged at his sunken cheeks, making one feel even more heartbroken to look at.

He didn’t mention a single half-word about himself.

His limbs were gone, his appearance ruined, and he didn’t mention a single word.

The very first sentence he spoke asked about his son.

"The Elite Spirit Master Competition..."

He gasped for breath, his chest heaving slightly: "How is it going?"

Tang San pressed his lips together.

Facing such a pair of eyes from his father, he could not lie, nor was he willing to lie.

"I lost."

He said in a low voice, his voice somewhat hoarse: "I lost to Xiao Wu."

Pausing for a moment, he added the most difficult sentence: "Xiao Wu... she is already a Spirit Emperor now."

"!"

Tang Hao’s gaze suddenly condensed.

Spirit Emperor!

In those turbid eyes, a sharp light flashed.

He knew the weight of these two words better than anyone else.

Xiao Wu was a 100,000-year TransformedSpirit Beast.

But 100,000 years was 100,000 years, and transformation was transformation.

Two years ago, she was at most at the Realm of a nascent Spirit Elder.

Two years, from Spirit Elder to Spirit Emperor, reaching maturity.

This could no longer be measured by the methods of ordinary Spirit Masters.

Could it be that the foundation accumulated by the Spirit Beast over 100,000 years awoke all at once, like a bursting river, which could not be deduced by ordinary logic.

Even with all his extensive experience, hearing this, his heart still shook.

Tang San lowered his eyes.

"I have disappointed Dad."

Tang Hao did not answer immediately.

After a long while, he slowly shook his head and let out a long sigh.

"Silly child."

His voice softened: "The other party is a 100,000-year TransformedSpirit Beast, with a 100,000-year foundation pressed on her shoulders; how can that be calculated by ordinary logic?"

"You lost to her; this cannot be blamed on you."

This was the gentlest comfort a father could give.

But Tang San did not accept it.

He raised his head, and in his eyes, there was not a shred of ease from being comforted, only heavy things pressing down.

"Dad."

He said word by word: "I am still too weak."

Tang Hao looked at his son.

What he saw was a youth who had lost his vitality and spirit.

That arrogance seeping from his bones, that drive that no one could bend, had now mostly dissipated.

Leaving only full-body exhaustion and unwillingness.

This scene made his heart ache even more than hearing the two words "lost".

Little San could lose.

Victory and defeat were ordinary matters for soldiers to begin with.

Even back in his own day, he hadn’t avoided tasting defeat.

Little San could not collapse.

A powerhouse could lack anything, but they could never lack that spine of arrogance.

Once that arrogant spine broke, a person truly collapsed.

Wanting to stand up again in the future would be as hard as ascending to heaven.

Gazing into his son’s empty gaze, that unwillingness in his chest churned like overturning rivers and seas.

If... if losing the torso bone and head bone wouldn’t kill a person.

As soon as this thought popped up, his heart fiercely clenched.

He truly wanted to dig out those two bones as well and stuff them into his son’s hands.

His limbs were gone, he accepted it.

But if this mutilated body still had a single fraction of a useful place left, he was willing to give every last bit of it to Little San.

Yet heaven did not follow human wishes.

He couldn’t even speak the single word "give".

A man who once could flip his hands to form clouds and cover them to form rain could not even muster the strength to protect his own child at this moment.

This powerlessness was duller yet more torturous than his severed limbs, gnawing at him day and night.

The hall was very quiet.

The light outside the window flowed across a small section of the floor.

Tang Hao closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, something else churned within those turbid eyes.

He pondered for a moment, his expression becoming solemn little by little.

Even that broken body seemed to straighten up a bit at this moment.

"Little San."

Tang San raised his eyes.

Tang Hao’s gaze suddenly became as sharp as before.

At that instant, the one sitting in the wheelchair seemed once again to be the Clear Sky Douluo of those years who roamed the continent unchecked and whose edge no one dared to counter.

"I am taking you back to the Clear Sky Sect."

He spoke word by word, his voice not high, yet every word hammered onto Tang San’s heart.

"Acknowledge your ancestors and return to the clan!"

Tang San was stunned.

The Clear Sky Sect.

During all these years of seclusion, his father never once mentioned his origins.

That past seemed to have been deliberately sealed up by someone, refusing to leave even a single crack.

He had guessed privately countless times, yet never dared to ask.

And at this moment, his father spoke these three words with his own mouth.

Tang Hao looked at him, a cluster of fire suppressed in the depths of his eyes: "There is a method there to make you stronger."

"!!!"

Tang San’s heartbeat hammered heavily.

A method to become stronger!

This was truly what he needed!

What kind of place was the Clear Sky Sect, precisely?

And what would that so-called ’method to become stronger’ be?

(End of Chapter)

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