Spirit Hall, Soul Master Arena.
Bang!
A dull crash, followed by the faint sound of bones shifting. A figure flew like a broken sack, hitting the hard bluestone floor and skidding for several meters before stopping, leaving a shallow groove in the ground. It was a young man with black hair and an ordinary face—now pale as paper, bright red blood trickling from his lips. He struggled to rise using his arms, only to collapse again from the stabbing pain in his chest.
Standing in the center of the field was a burly, muscular youth holding a heavy, crimson staff—the shaft still resonating with soul power from the blow just delivered. The young man looked down at Xie Yue, who lay on the ground, his lips twisted in open contempt:
"Xie Yue, this is the extent of your strength?"
His voice was rough and mocking:
"Rumor has it you're the future golden generation of Spirit Hall, the carefully groomed successors of Her Holiness the Pope? You hardly live up to the name. You're just weaklings!"
At his words, several other well-dressed youths behind him laughed, their eyes full of undisguised ridicule and disdain as they stared at Xie Yue.
"Brother!"
"Xie Yue!"
Two anxious cries rang out as a burning red figure and a plumper form rushed over. Hu Liena quickly knelt beside Xie Yue, staring at his pale face and bloodied lips, foxlike eyes blazing with fury. She glared at the burly youth in the center:
"Wang Jie! This is just a friendly match. You went too far!"
Wang Jie sneered, glancing at the newly arrived Hu Liena and Yan with scorn. Grabbing his dragon staff, he replied arrogantly:
"Too far? Soul masters fight—injuries are inevitable. Or do you expect your enemies in life and death battles to show mercy?"
A long-haired, beautiful blonde girl beside Wang Jie joined in, voice cold and mocking as she looked at Hu Liena:
"If you're afraid to lose, Hu Liena, why enter the elite tournament at all? Why not go hide in some remote canyon? Now that your protector is gone, why embarrass yourself here?"
"You—!"
Yan, quick-tempered, couldn't bear her taunting and surged forward, soul power blazing.
"Yan!"
A cold hand gripped his wrist. It was Xie Yue. Though injured, his gaze remained calm as he shook his head—there was no point in fighting now, outnumbered and outmatched.
"What, going to gang up on us now?" sneered another youth behind Wang Jie, as tall as a tower, arms crossed, wild gaze scanning the trio like a predator.
Enduring the pain, Xie Yue stood slowly with Hu Liena and Yan's help, wiping the blood from his mouth. He looked firmly at Wang Jie:
"Wang Jie, you're only two years older than me. If we were the same age, you wouldn't be a match for me."
He paused, his tone calm and resolute:
"But I, Xie Yue, am not a sore loser. I admit defeat today. Next semester's opening assessment—we'll fight again."
Hearing this, a relatively mature, calm-eyed youth next to Wang Jie nodded approvingly:
"Good, Xie Yue. You're a man. I used age and power today, but next time we'll fight fair and square."
Yan wanted to argue, but Xie Yue stopped him with a glance. With a nod to the mature youth, Xie Yue left with Hu Liena and Yan's support—steps faltering, but his back straight as he exited the training ground.
Watching the trio leave, regret flickered in the mature youth's eyes as he sighed softly:
"What a pity... If not for the Pope's lineage, someone with Xie Yue's heart and talent would be worth befriending."
The blonde girl snorted coldly, beautiful face frosty:
"Spare me your useless sentimentality. The camps are set. There's no changing them."
Especially when she looked in Hu Liena's direction, her gaze was icy, her voice thick with contempt:
"Does Hu Liena really think she's the future Saint of Spirit Hall just because the Pope accepted her as a disciple? Always showing off, so arrogant—doesn't even know her place!"
"Right!" Wang Jie slammed his staff to the ground, voice fierce:
"If killing within the Hall weren't strictly forbidden, even the little fox wouldn't dare covet that position... Hmph, I already smashed her head with my staff. Does she really have the strength or charm to deserve it?"
The tower-like youth echoed, violence flashing in his eyes:
"As long as our senior sister is still at the academy, when will it ever be the fox's turn to show off? Sooner or later, I'll tear her apart!"
The mature youth, hearing his peers, sighed again, face full of regret but quickly suppressing his feelings. He knew that in the Spirit Hall's complex factional struggles, personal gratitude and emotion must give way to reason and position. He was, after all, born of the Glowing Feather Douluo bloodline, tied to the Worship's side, naturally opposed to Bibi Dong's. He was not one to truly hate Hu Liena, but...
Suddenly, he turned toward the shadows at the edge of the field, where a tall, curvy girl stood quietly apart, observing everything with cold detachment.
"Sister Qing Yao," he asked curiously, "I heard... the Body Sect's young master Chen Yi will represent Grand Martial Academy in next year's Continental Advanced Soul Master Academy Elite Tournament?"
At the mention of "Chen Yi," the previously scornful group fell silent. Wang Jie, the blonde girl, the tower youth—even the mature youth—showed visible unease.
After more than half a year, the Golden Crocodile Duluo and the Glowing Feather Douluo had returned from Martial City, bringing amazing news of that young genius. The name "Chen Yi" now weighed on the hearts of all Spirit Hall's future stars—a talent so overwhelming, it brought almost suffocating pressure.
From the shadows, Qing Yao straightened and stepped into the faint light. Tall, beautiful, with sharp, alluring phoenix eyes and a cold disposition that kept strangers at bay, she swept her gaze over her companions, her voice as cool and clear as a mountain spring:
"Second Grandfather says the Body Sect has endured for generations, growing high-profile and ambitious. What they lack is an outstanding record to prove their strength and status across the continent. The upcoming Continental Elite Tournament is undoubtedly the perfect stage. If you want to be absolutely sure of suppressing their challenge, you must be prepared to face their young master Chen Yi."
The tower youth clenched his fists, knuckles white, eyes fierce as he yelled:
"I don't believe Chen Yi is so terrifying! The continent's number one genius? Senior sister's peer? Is this all just hype from the Body Sect and their supporters? When the time comes, let's show him what a Lion King is made of!"
But the mature youth shook his head, unusually serious:
"Don't underestimate him. Grandfather warned us: unless all five of us work together, none of us can match him one-on-one in the Soul Master Tournament."
Qing Yao, the only granddaughter of Azure Luan Duluo, now fully emerged from the shadows. The sun shone on her cold face as she gazed calmly into the distance, as if seeing a tragic confrontation in the future tournament. Her red lips parted, voice full of undoubted determination:
"Whether we win or not, speculation is meaningless. I'll fight—and I'll know."
…
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