Douluo: Transforming Xiao Wu into a Zerg Queen Was Just the Beginning-Chapter 90 - 91 – The Fall of the Angel God? The Search for Qian Renxue

Chapter 90 - 91 – The Fall of the Angel God? The Search for Qian Renxue

Lin Fan's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze momentarily distant. But within seconds, he turned and stared intently in a specific direction.

At that moment—

Inside Lin Fan's mind, a crimson thread shimmered faintly, stretching across his spiritual sea. One end of the thread was tethered to him, while the other extended far into the distant sky.

It was as if someone's spiritual presence—tenuous and flickering—was connected to the other end.

Qian Renxue.

The realization struck Lin Fan instantly.

Among his subordinates, only a select few were capable of forming such a spiritual link with him. The only ones who could maintain such long-range contact were the Queen of Blades, Zhu Zhuyun, Davis, and a handful of others temporarily empowered with Zerg control.

Yet all their spiritual links were already firmly bound to him—he could sense them at a mere thought.

This unstable, flickering thread... there was no doubt—it belonged to Qian Renxue.

And Lin Fan had a good idea why.

"Hmph."

A cold snort escaped him, and a sharp gleam of killing intent flashed in his eyes.

That damned Angel God. Her divine position was already on the brink of collapse—her consciousness nearly obliterated.

And yet, the lingering fragments of her spiritual will still dared to interfere with his plans?

It was obvious from the original storyline: by the later stages, the Angel God's divine position had either been erased, or her consciousness had completely vanished from the mortal world—or perhaps had been utterly obliterated in the Divine Realm.

Otherwise, how could the Angel God's Ninth Trial be so absurd?

When Tang San undertook the Sea God's Nine Trials, the Sea God personally sent blessings and guidance throughout.

But Qian Renxue, during her Angel Trials, received absolutely nothing—not a whisper in response, as if the Angel God was truly dead.

At the same time, the Sea God's will had actively suppressed the remnants of the Angel God's consciousness, even influencing her trials directly.

It was no different from one god completely severing another god's incense flames—crushing their following, erasing any chance of revival or restoration of divinity.

If the Angel God were still alive—could she possibly endure that?

Especially someone as prideful and lofty as the Angel God!

This alone made it clear: in this world, the Angel God's consciousness was likely long gone.

And now, a mere fragment of her residual will dared to meddle in his affairs?

A cold glint flashed in Lin Fan's eyes. He gently patted Xiao Wu's firm rear and said, "The plan's changed. We're heading to the Star Luo Empire first."

"As you command, my Lord."

With a flap of her bone wings, Xiao Wu carried Lin Fan with her as they turned in another direction, soaring away at incredible speed.

High above the clouds, a dark shadow streaked across the sky.

Behind it, from within the clouds, an even larger shadow occasionally slithered past—vast and monstrous—spreading out in every direction.

"Jie jie jie jie... Qian Renxue, just wait for me. I'm coming for you soon!"

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Nuoding Academy

A black-haired boy hurried through the Soul Master training grounds, walking swiftly toward the academy gate.

His head was bowed low, hiding most of his features from view.

A palpable aura of cold hostility surrounded him, warning others to keep their distance. Even among the typically quiet students, this boy exuded an especially chilling silence.

Students around him instinctively kept away, whispering as they watched his retreating figure.

But the black-haired boy seemed used to this kind of reaction. Without sparing a glance at anyone, he pressed forward.

At that moment, only one thought echoed in his mind: leave this place.

"Stop right there!"

A sharp shout rang out from behind him.

The boy didn't slow down. In fact, his steps only quickened.

"Hey freak, I'm talking to you! Stop walking!"

Several older students, clearly thugs from their posture and tone, came running and stood in his way, blocking his path.

The surrounding students quickly scattered. A commotion erupted as they pointed and murmured about the confrontation.

Bullying was common in Nuoding Academy, especially when upperclassmen targeted newcomers or weaker students. These particular bullies were infamous throughout the academy.

Their own strength was nothing special—among the lowest in their grade—but they relied on their seniority and better backgrounds to push others around.

Everyone despised them, but even the instructors couldn't do much about it. Victims had little choice but to accept their fate.

"Sigh, it's those guys again. They're a blight on this school."

"Yeah. That kid's in trouble."

"He'll probably be bedridden for three days, at least."

"Three? With how fragile he looks, I'd say a week."

Younger students only dared to whisper. Older ones chuckled openly, making loud, mocking comments.

The bullies grinned, looking more and more sinister as they closed in on the boy.

"Hey, kid. You're the one who hurt my little brother, aren't you?"

The fat one in the lead pointed to a scrawny, rat-faced boy standing nearby, his face bruised and bandaged, blood still seeping through the gauze.

The black-haired boy didn't respond. He kept his head lowered, fists clenched tightly, his body trembling slightly—as if suppressing something deep within.

After a long pause, he finally spoke. His voice was cold, emotionless:

"Leave."

"What did you say, punk? Looking for a beating?"

The fat thug grabbed the boy by the collar, slamming his forehead into the boy's to intimidate him.

But the moment he tried to lift him—he couldn't.

Though the boy's frame looked thin and frail, he felt impossibly heavy—like trying to lift a mountain.

The boy's fists tightened with a creaking sound. Veins bulged from his skin.

The bullies, growing furious, rolled up their sleeves and stepped in to attack.

"Stop putting on an act! Beat him down!"

"...I said..."

The boy's voice was like a bitter winter wind—cold, biting, and filled with unspoken menace.

"Leave. Didn't you hear me?"

He suddenly raised his head and stared straight at them.

The face hidden in shadow was now fully visible.

His eyes—gleaming crimson, inhuman—burned with murderous intent.

Bulging veins writhed across his face like roots from a dark tree, grotesque and terrifying.

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