Wait, How Did My Digital Girlfriend Become a Sword Immortal? Chapter 855: The Pope’s Demeanor, Bloody Purge

The individual who confidently stepped forward was the Battle Soul Hall’s own Pope — Bixixi!

Gone were the restrictive wrappings that had once swaddled her like a mummy, replaced entirely by a majestic and ornate papal robe.

The garment was draped in a deep, regal purple, its cuffs and borders embroidered with intricate golden flourishes that seemed to pulse with the rhythmic shimmer of Battle Power. Resting upon her chest was a black, diamond-shaped sigil, within which a distorted silhouette of a fallen angel was etched—the unmistakable emblem of the Battle Soul Hall.

A formidable pressure, surging like an incoming tide, radiated from her form, silencing the entire arena in a single heartbeat.

Bixixi surveyed the area with eyes as cold and void of expression as stone.

Step by measured step, she descended from the gallery toward the arena floor.

As she drew near, the crushing intensity of a level-95 Legendary Battle Master was unleashed without restraint.

Her pressure did not target the students in the stands; instead, she directed its full weight specifically at the aristocratic heirs and the Battle Saint judge representing the Xiahou Family.

“Ugh…” Xiao Shihao’s complexion shifted to the hue of liver, his forehead throbbing with distended veins. His spine, once held with arrogance, succumbed to the force and bent, only to reflexively attempt to straighten again, as if trying to withstand the weight of a monumental boulder.

Ultimately, his legs gave way, forcing him to his knees.

Even as he fell, the ground cracked and buckled under the immense impact of his descent.

Bixixi offered no mercy; the atmospheric pressure continued to intensify.

Drawing a single breath became a nearly impossible task.

Xiahou Yuan lacked the resilience of his peer. His legs had turned to jelly the instant he laid eyes on the Pope. When the full force of her presence descended, he and Su Luyao collapsed simultaneously. Su Luyao suffered even more; her inferior Battle Soul left her completely vulnerable, leaving her pinned flat against the stone floor in humiliation.

“Your… Your Holiness! Why have you graced us with your presence?”

On the arena, the Xiahou Family’s Battle Saint turned pale, his lips quivering as he gazed helplessly at the approaching figure.

Bixixi possessed an exquisite, curvaceous form, yet she was akin to a poisonous rose; every thorn was laced with lethal intent.

“Did you assume I would remain absent?” Bixixi retorted with a icy scoff. “Had I failed to appear, would this arena competition have evolved into an exclusive playground for your Xiahou Family?”

With every forward stride she took, the Battle Saint seemed to wither under the weight of her presence.

By the time she stood directly before him, he was already pressed firmly against the ground by the suffocating power, his limbs splayed awkwardly, gasping like a fish gasping for air on a scorching shore.

“Your Holiness, please… I was mistaken! I was merely executing commands from my clan… I had no choice but to obey the family hierarchy…”

“Who issued those commands?”

Hum—! A vibrant purple soul ring materialized beneath Bixixi’s feet.

Instantly, a swarm of blood-red vines erupted from the arena floor, coiling tightly around the Xiahou Battle Saint before hoisting him into the air. The thorns on the vines bristled, piercing his flesh one by one and greedily draining his internal Battle Power.

Though agony coursed through his every nerve, he remained terrified to utter a single cry.

Any seasoned Battle Master familiar with Bixixi understood that the Pope held nothing but contempt for those who begged; to plead was simply to invite a swifter and more brutal demise.

Feeling his life force and cultivation rapidly fading, the Xiahou Battle Saint saw no path forward other than to answer her demand.

As his mind began to fray, the primal instinct for survival overcame his fear of his masters.

“It—it was the direct descendant, Xiahou Yuan… despite his youth, he is the clan leader’s son. I dared not defy his will…”

“And where is Feng Wuyu?” Bixixi directed a glacial glance at the trembling Xiahou Yuan before returning her focus to her prisoner.

“Feng… Feng Wuyu remains alive. We have simply placed him under house arrest…”

“What incredible insolence!” Bixixi’s palm tightened into a fist, and the vines constricted instantly.

Unable to endure the agonizing sensation of his organs being pierced, the Battle Saint shattered, releasing a piercing wail of pure torment.

His shrill screams tore through the arena, freezing the blood of the watching students and clan heirs alike.

They had all heard tales of the Pope’s cold-blooded nature, but now, they saw the reality of it with horrifying clarity.

“I specifically appointed Feng Wuyu to oversee this academy competition. By laying a hand on him, you have essentially declared war on the Battle Soul Hall. Why wait for you to strike again? I shall eliminate these nuisances here and now.”

Her murderous intent surged, and Bixixi’s hand rose further.

The Battle Saint was dragged higher, his blood dripping and pooling across the arena like a dark, viscous stream.

“I apologize… Your Holiness… I lived in ignorance…”

Feng Wuyu had been a direct appointment; the man truly had been unaware of the underlying schemes. In fact, none of the families present had realized the depth of the Pope’s patronage regarding Feng Wuyu.

Had they known he carried her favor, not a single soul would have dared to touch him.

“Realize your error now? It is far too late,” Bixixi scoffed, closing her fist tightly. “Die!”

At her signal, the blood-vines transformed into a frenzy of motion, strangling the man with ruthless efficiency.

In a sickening instant, the Battle Saint was utterly destroyed.

Splat—!

Only his severed head remained, thudding heavily against the floor before rolling to a stop at Xiahou Yuan’s feet.

Xiahou Yuan stared into the lifeless, wide-open eyes of the head near his boots; he shook with unbridled horror, and a warm, wet stain quickly spread across his trousers.

A pungent, foul odor began to fill the immediate air.

Bixixi wrinkled her nose in disgust, her expression hardening even further.

Her icy gaze shifted from the remains to the cowering Xiahou Yuan.

“Xiahou Yuan,” his name dropped from her lips like a death sentence. “Tell me, who else was involved in this scheme to subvert the arena rules? Speak, and perhaps I will leave your remains intact.”

Beneath the suffocating pressure and the fresh memory of the brutal execution, Xiahou Yuan’s mental defenses crumbled entirely.

Tears streaming down his face, and abandoning all pretense of clan loyalty, he shrieked, “It was the Xiao Family! Xiao Shihao! He approached me, claiming Li Qingran was a menace, and suggested we join forces to cripple her! He orchestrated everything! Your Holiness, I am telling the truth!”

Xiao Shihao, still struggling against the atmospheric weight, snapped his head up in terror. “Xiahou Yuan! You dog! You’re lying to save your skin! It was your desire to appease that bitch Su Luyao, your pathetic revenge—what does that have to do with me?!”

He had to deflect the blame, or his entire family would be dragged into the abyss alongside him.

“Slander? You call this slander?” Xiahou Yuan, desperate to cling to life, reached into his robes and produced a metallic, palm-sized disc pulsating with dim Battle Power. “Your Holiness, I have proof! This is a voice-recording soul conductor; it captured Xiao Shihao conspiring with me! He promised mining rights outside the city in exchange for my cooperation!”

Bixixi extended a hand, and the device flew into her palm.

With a flick of her finger, she injected a wisp of Battle Power. The air filled with Xiao Shihao’s cold, calculated voice, detailing exactly how to exploit the rules to wear down Li Qingran’s strength before he personally intervened to inflict severe injury.

Once the audio concluded, the arena fell into a deathly hush.

Xiao Shihao stood paralyzed, his complexion cycling through violent shades of blue and purple. All aristocratic pretense evaporated, and he unleashed a torrent of desperate, incoherent curses.

“Silence!” Bixixi’s command cut the air like a blade.

She looked upon the two disgraced heirs with utter disdain. If these prominent families could produce such vapid, treacherous wastes, then they were no longer worth preserving.

She lifted her hand, dark purple Battle Power crackling menacingly in her palm. “As heirs of distinguished houses, you ignore true progress to conspire against the rules of the Battle Soul Hall and target its students. Such hearts and such actions deserve nothing but ruin!”

Before the final word left her lips, she flicked her finger.

Two streaks of dark purple light, resembling lethal vipers, pierced the lower abdomens of both Xiahou Yuan and Xiao Shihao.

Pfft—!

Both men convulsed, spraying a mist of blood as their remaining strength evaporated instantly. Their expressions betrayed absolute despair.

They could feel their hard-won foundations of Battle Power dissolving into nothingness.

The very roots of their status and strength had been eradicated by a single casual strike from Bixixi.

They had been broken; from this day forward, they would be nothing more than empty husks.

Unable to handle the sudden agony, both men passed out before they could even release a scream.

Ignoring them, Bixixi turned her gaze toward the horrified attendants in the stands. Her voice was chillingly devoid of emotion. “Remove these two failures. Tell Xiahou Jie and Xiao Tianding to release Feng Wuyu at once.”

“Tell them they must present themselves at the Battle Soul Hall before daybreak to offer an explanation. If they arrive even a moment late… they shall suffer the consequences!”

The attendants scrambled forward like mindless cattle, hauling the unconscious heirs from the arena and fleeing in a state of sheer panic.

With the matter settled, Bixixi cast one brief, unreadable glance toward the white-robed Li Qingran before turning her attention to the rest of the arena.

Her voice regained its authoritative, papal grace, resonating clearly through the venue:

“The impurities have been purged. The competition will continue! I, in the name of the Battle Soul Hall, will act as the temporary presiding judge to ensure absolute fairness!”

A moment of stunned silence preceded an explosive roar of cheers and applause.