DD Black White [311-12] (Patreon)

Chapter 311: Master and Disciple Meet

The colossal vertical pupil of the Dark Holy Dragon that Long Xiaoyao had become suddenly contracted. A fierce sense of mortal peril made him not dare be the least bit careless.

His massive dragon maw snapped open. The darkness between heaven and earth around him surged as if drawn by a black hole, madly converging into his mouth, compressing and spiraling.

At last, a pitch-black sphere of dark energy—inky as spilled ink, as if it could devour all light and hope—formed in his throat.

It was like a miniature black hole, radiating a terrifying gravity. Even the surrounding space violently warped and collapsed under its presence.

At the very instant Karna hurled forth that spear compressed with the power of a star—

"Rooaaar!!!"

Long Xiaoyao let out a thunderous dragon's roar. The ultra-condensed dark energy sphere erupted, transforming into a jet-black pillar of annihilation over a hundred meters in diameter. It tore the sky asunder; all things withered along its path as it roared up to meet the falling Spear of the Sun.

But that was not all.

At the same instant the pure-black pillar surged forth, an abrupt blood-red beam stinking so strongly of gore it was nauseating suddenly lanced out from beneath the Dark Holy Dragon's massive body.

Sinister and razor-sharp, it appeared without warning, even ripping through space itself. With uncanny precision it interwove and fused with Long Xiaoyao's black beam.

A black-and-crimson torrent of destruction, entwining ultimate darkness with filthy evil, burst forth with doubled might, hurtling toward Karna.

"Death God's Light!"

Ye Xishui's voice rang out, icy and grave.

She hovered in midair. Behind her, the eerie and terrifying tenth-rank soul tool—the Death God Tower—was roaring at full tilt. The tower's body flared with a ghostly, baleful green glow as countless twisted, pained, wailing resentful spirits overflowed like a tide, screaming with soul-rending shrieks.

Without hesitation she burned the vast power of accumulated wraiths she had gathered over decades, pouring all of it into this blood-colored beam that signified death and ending. Following Long Xiaoyao's attack, she swore to drag the Son of the Sun into the abyss of death.

Black dragon's breath and scarlet deathlight—the two apex forces of this world merged. Wherever they passed, space shattered like fragile glass, revealing the chaotic void currents beyond.

And the Spear of the Sun descended like the meteor of Judgment Day, bearing an absolute momentum that would incinerate all things.

"BOOOOM——!!!!!!!"

At the instant the three finally collided—

Time seemed to freeze.

Then endless light and heat devoured everything. Vision was drowned entirely in pure white and blazing gold. The entire imperial palace district, and even lands far beyond, were instantly submerged by that ultimate radiance.

There was no deafening blast as one might expect; instead, an eerie, suffocating silence—every sound was swallowed and annihilated by the raging energies at the core of the collision.

Then—

A terrifying shockwave capable of rending the earth awoke like a slumbering world-ending beast. From the point of impact it rippled out in a perfect ring, raging in all directions.

Rock, steel, soul-guide alloys, the remnants of buildings—every tangible thing in this world lost all meaning before this energy maelstrom. All melted, broke down, and finally vaporized.

Space itself was torn open into hideous black fissures. Matter was reduced to its most primordial particles amidst the energy storm.

The entire imperial palace district seemed erased from the earth. In its place rose from the ground a violent, newborn sun.

Even the clouds high above were instantly ignited by the horrific heat, turning the sky over Mingdu into a boundless sea of flames, casting the whole heavens in an apocalyptic glow.

Mingdu, today, was fated to be remembered in disaster and ruin.

From the dusk-colored Heaven-Piercing Sword Pillar, to the pulse beam of Star Roar that tore the firmament, and now the clash between Karna and two of the continent's peak Limit Douluo… each impact was power enough to wipe the grand capital from the map entirely.

It could be foreseen that when this brutal melee—entangling myriad factions and countless powerhouses—finally ended, Mingdu, once the symbol of the Sun–Moon Empire's glory and prosperity, would be no more.

Be it the resplendent palaces, the bustling streets, or those edifices bearing endless history and culture… all would be reduced by one cataclysm after another into a pale wasteland buried under churning magma and dead ash, silently testifying to the cruelty and savagery of this war.

"Not good!!"

Several kilometers away, Kong Deming snapped his head toward the imperial palace, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

He had long sensed the extremely violent, unsettling energy fluctuations from that area and knew a powerful foe was attacking the palace's core.

But he had not been overly worried—by Xu Tiannan's side stood Long Xiaoyao and Ye Xishui, two Limit Douluo who stood at the very summit of the continent. It should have been ironclad.

After all, even he, Kong Deming, had no certainty of killing that deep-minded regent under the joint hands of Long and Ye.

Yet now, the light and heat that suddenly erupted and swept in like a tsunami were terrifying in magnitude, completely beyond his expectations.

Even at such a distance, he could clearly feel the burning pain on his skin as if set alight.

The intruder… was no ordinary strongman!
This was an out-of-spec existence truly capable of threatening Xu Tiannan's life—perhaps even troublesome for Long Xiaoyao and Ye Xishui.

With almost no hesitation, a sharp light flashed in Kong Deming's eyes. He made his decision in an instant.

The Silvermoon Divine Light Shield he wore—crystallization of the Sun–Moon Empire's highest soul-guide technology—burst forth with unprecedented splendor. Streams of silver radiance coursed like living things, forcibly tearing open the solid space ahead and forming a twisting, humming spatial rift.

He did not even glance back at the battlefield behind him. Without hesitation he leapt into that dangerous crack in space. His figure was swallowed by silver light and vanished, racing toward the palace's core at the fastest possible speed.

Since he had already placed his bet on Xu Tiannan, he would not allow this regent to die lightly before the final outcome was decided.

Xu Tiannan's life and death directly affected his future plans and the empire's stability.

…

"Hey, hey… you're just going to run? That's no fun at all."

Tartaglia scratched his short orange hair in frustration. Watching the rapidly healing rift fade away without a trace, he pouted in boredom.

Still, he had no real interest in wading into the muddy waters of the imperial palace—for him, guarding some deep-minded regent he didn't know couldn't compare to finding a worthy opponent and having a good fight.

Just then, clear, steady footsteps sounded from not far behind him.

Tartaglia turned instinctively.

When his gaze fell on the familiar figure walking toward him, all his gloom and laziness were replaced in a hundredth of a second by pure, unbridled joy.

His ice-blue eyes lit up astonishingly, as if stars exploded within.

"Master, it's actually you?! This is… an unexpected delight!"

He practically bounded forward a few steps, excitedly flexing his knuckles with crisp crackles. Unseen, fighting spirit and lightning began to surge around him, while a pent-up, blazing flame burned in his eyes.

"I finally get to see you again. I haven't been slacking these years—I've gotten strong enough—so strong that this time, I'll definitely make you… use both hands."

The joy of reunion took only a small corner of his heart. More than that was the long-suppressed excitement and competitiveness—his yearning to cross blades once more with his teacher at full strength.

He craved to prove his growth, to win the recognition of his strongest mentor—and the only way to earn that recognition was battle.

"Master…?"

Bai Xiuxiu stood quietly half a step behind Skirk, blinking her ocean-blue eyes at the unfamiliar boy whose emotions had surged sky-high and whose fighting spirit rolled like the sea.

Skirk had never told her she had another disciple—let alone one who looked every inch the battle maniac.

"Mm."

Skirk's expression remained as calm as water, as if the wildly excited Tartaglia before her was no different from a stone by the roadside.

Frost coiled lazily around her slender fingertips and instantly condensed into a crystal-clear, razor-keen longsword of ice.

She knew her disciple's nature too well. The moment he opened his mouth, the words "let's fight" were written plainly across his face.

"He's a disciple I took in my early years—Tartaglia. By order, you should call him senior brother."

"So she's a junior sister?"

Only then did Tartaglia glance at Bai Xiuxiu behind Skirk. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes—who'd have thought his always solitary master would accept another disciple in this other world?

But the surprise was instantly drowned beneath a greater swell of battle fervor. He waved a hand casually, his tone carrying a matter-of-course arrogance verging on brash.

"Junior sister, step back a bit. Find a safe spot and enjoy the show. When I fight Master, if you get hurt by accident, that'd really spoil the fun."

Skirk wasted no words.

She simply raised that soul-freezing ice sword, the cold, slender tip pointing straight at Tartaglia's heart.

With that single motion, an extreme, bone-deep sword chill spread out. Within tens of meters, the temperature plunged; a thick layer of hoarfrost glazed the ground in an instant.

Even the moisture in the air froze, whirling into falling snow.

Chapter 312: Piercing Surge! Gáe Bolg!

"Still as taciturn as ever, my dear Master."

Tartaglia chuckled, the corner of his lips curling in a mad arc, while the fighting spirit in his eyes only burned hotter.

The next second—

KRAK-BOOM!!!!
Savage thunder shrieked like ten thousand giant birds at once. Along with it came a vast, ethereal, deafening whale's call.

Water and lightning elements surged madly around Tartaglia. From the ground beneath his feet burst a mountain-sized giant whale, forged entirely of surging water essence and dazzling lightning.

Wreathed in heaving tidal waves and annihilating thunderlight, it charged at the motionless Skirk with world-toppling momentum.

At a glance from Skirk, Bai Xiuxiu obediently darted several hundred meters back, choosing a broken wall as relative cover.

Watching the two clash in an instant, even greater doubts rose in her heart—this senior brother said Master was taciturn, but she clearly remembered that when Skirk was with Snow Empress, though her tone was cool, her words were not so few.

Even when instructing Bai Xiuxiu in cultivation, she was concise but never this absolutely cold.

Still, questions aside, she didn't find it strange that Master and senior brother had suddenly come to blows.

After all, this was a Holy Grail War; encounters and battles between Servants were the norm.

She steadied her mind and focused on spectating this sudden duel between master and disciple.

"Not bad."

Skirk's cool voice pierced thunder and surf, clear in the air. There seemed the faintest, nearly imperceptible hint of praise in it.

"But you're not there yet, Tartaglia… not enough to truly threaten me."

Before the words finished, her figure blurred into a blue afterimage. Rather than retreating, she advanced, charging straight at the roaring thunder-whale.

Her ice sword traced an exquisite curve as if freezing space itself.

Ssshhh—!
That ultra-condensed sword light pierced the whale's vast energy body in an instant, ignoring layer upon layer of protective surf and raging lightning, and stabbed unerringly toward Tartaglia's heart behind it.

Thus, beneath Bai Xiuxiu's gaze, the cross-world duel of master and disciple began in the most direct, most intense fashion.

…

"Piercing Surge! Gáe Bolg!"

With a wild low shout, Cu Chulainn split the ground beneath his feet.

Borrowing the explosive recoil, he leapt skyward, his form like a drawn longbow, brimming with power.

Muscles swelled along his right arm as he raised the crimson cursed spear high behind him. Ancient, mystic runes upon the shaft flared as if ignited by fresh blood, unleashing a heart-stopping aura of annihilation that seemed to end all things!

As the true name of the Noble Phantasm was released, he poured his entire strength and energy into it and hurled it viciously at the alluring figure below.

Screee—!!!
A beam of purest crimson ripped the sky—and midway through its flight, it split and multiplied as if alive, becoming hundreds of identical spears wreathed in ominous deathly miasma.

They formed a dense, sky-blotting rain of death, shrieking as they carpet-bombed the entire area where Xiao Wu stood, indiscriminate and annihilating.

This was a true anti-army Noble Phantasm—its coverage vast, its penetration terrifying, its destructive power enough to completely level and erase the sprawling ruins.

Even the goddess Xiao Wu showed solemnity on her perfect face for the first time.

Her old wounds had not healed; her divine body was far from its peak, and she had lost the strong blessing of the Sea God's divinity. Facing such a wide-area, overwhelming strike, she felt unprecedented difficulty.

Though the Holy Spirit Cult's aid had improved her injuries, Phoenix godforce from Ma Hongjun and Honkai energy still stubbornly lingered in her, and she had to devote a great share of mind and strength to suppressing and dissolving that scorching, overbearing alien power. She simply could not fight at full strength.

…

"That's… mom?!"

In the distance, drawn by the earth-shaking tumult, Tang Wutong and the Clear Sky Sect experts beside her all turned their eyes over.

When Tang Wutong clearly caught the figure weaving amid the crimson spear-rain, she reeled as if thunderstruck. Her pretty pink-blue eyes went wide, her face full of disbelief and shock.

As Xiao Wu's daughter, the unique resonance in her blood would not be wrong—that intimately familiar profile, that aura etched in her soul, that primal pulse from bloodline—this was the mother she longed for day and night.

"It really is Sister Xiao Wu!!"

Niu Tian and Tai Tan, the two soul-beast overlords who had followed Xiao Wu for years, bulged their ox-like eyes now, their rugged faces full of shock and excitement.

Though Xiao Wu's appearance and aura differed greatly from when she ascended to the God Realm ten thousand years ago, they recognized at a glance—the one dueling the Servant was indeed the Sister Xiao Wu they had yearned for through the ages.

"How… how is this possible…"

Tang Wutong rubbed her eyes hard, hardly daring to believe what she saw.

"How could Mom… descend to the lower realm without leave? Where's Dad? And… why does Mom's aura feel… so weak?"

She herself had descended because she was not a formal god, more a special existence with god-level blood, exploiting a loophole in the God Realm's rules.

But her mother Xiao Wu was a true, registered deity of the God Realm.

Descending without authorization was a grave crime that would incur the Law-Enforcer Gods' punishment.

What shook her further was how weak Xiao Wu's current level of power appeared—so weak it did not match a deity's station at all.

Even if her opponent was an extremely powerful Servant, Xiao Wu was a god.

Even if she had to suppress her power for some reason, she should not be trading blows so evenly—indeed, even being forced to brace herself against the foe's trump-card Noble Phantasm.

Though from the surface Xiao Wu seemed at ease, even forcing the opponent to use his strongest treasure, it was worlds apart from the strong, gentle, omnipotent mother in her memory.

"What on earth… has happened in the God Realm all these years?! What happened to Mom?!"

Tang Wutong, Niu Tian, and Tai Tan could no longer stand still. Questions surged in their hearts like a flood, yet at the same time, a vast joy of lost-and-found clenched their hearts tight.

Niu Tian and Tai Tan had not seen Xiao Wu in ten thousand years—one fleeting glimpse was enough to make them tremble with excitement.

As for Tang Wutong, though she had left the God Realm young to temper herself on Douluo Continent, she had never ceased to miss her mother. Seeing her now with her own eyes, her lids already glistened red with gathering mist.

"Heh, interesting."

Vita stood quietly at Tang Wutong's side, her doll-like delicate face curving in an intrigued smile, as if she had found a new toy.

Tang Wutong had never hidden her origins from her, so she knew her contractor had parents who were deities.

But a deity who should have been high in the God Realm not only descended unauthorized, but seemed to have lost the blessing of her god-seat, her strength fallen so far… The hidden story behind this was clearly unusual—irresistibly intriguing.

She observed the duel with interest, especially Xiao Wu's condition, her pale-red eyes flickering with analysis and curiosity.

"Grandpa Niu! Grandpa Tai! Let's go help Mom!"

Tang Wutong's face was filled with worry, her gaze locked on the region drowning under the crimson spear-rain. She was itching to fly over that instant.

But before she could finish—

"Alr—!"

Niu Tian and Tai Tan nearly agreed on instinct—when, mid-word, both their faces changed sharply.

An icy, keen, abyssal aura plunged from the sky, clamping down on them and the space around them alike. Their bodies locked up; they could not move a step. Even their soul power circulation turned sluggish.

Not only them—even the ever-composed Vita raised a brow, a clear flash of surprise in her pale-red eyes—this sudden, razor aura… felt familiar?

In the instant that thought flashed—

Ssst—!
A strangely shaped holy lance wreathed in black-and-white spiral flames screamed down like a meteor tearing the night, crossing hundreds of meters in a blink to appear before Vita.

Its icy tip nearly pierced her pale-red pupils!

"So it's an 'old acquaintance.'"

Vita recognized the lance and its master's aura at once. The playful smile on her face deepened, but her body reacted more swiftly and honestly.

With a light tap of her toe, her petite form seemed weightless as she drifted back, graceful and calm, narrowly avoiding the holy spear's peerless edge.

"Boom!!"

The lance slammed into where she had just stood, detonating a tremendous shockwave.

The ground heaved like waves. Broken stones and shattered walls blasted skyward, dust billowing.

A golden figure descended like a war god, grasped the lance's haft with precision, and wrenched it free in one clean pull.