The Overlord's Answer
The fusion was an abomination of terrible beauty. Where two boys had stood, there now loomed a creature of nightmare and prowess. The Dark Eagle Dragon was a patchwork of conflicting anatomies: the skeletal, crushing bulk of the Bone Dragon King grafted to the sleek, predatory silhouette of the Dark Illusionary Demon Eagle. Its wings, vast spans of feather and shadow, cast a chilling pall over the immediate arena. A barbed, bony tail lashed restlessly, scoring the stone. From its maw, a low, discordant growl hummed—the blended snarl of eagle and dragon. An aura of pure, aggressive darkness rolled off it in waves, so tangible it seemed to dim the afternoon sun and raise goosebumps on the skin of the closest spectators. This was power, raw and unstable, scraping the lower threshold of a Soul Elder.
The reaction from the hundreds of watching students was a seismic shift from excitement to stunned reverence. A collective gasp was followed by a babble of hushed, awestruck voices.
"A Spirit Fusion… they actually pulled it off!"
"I've only read about these in theory! The compatibility… the control required!"
"Yao Xuan's done for now… no one can beat a fusion skill at this level."
"Look at that aura! It feels like a senior from the advanced division!"
Their shock was justified. A Spirit Fusion Skill was the holy grail of Soul Master teamwork, a testament to near-perfect spiritual resonance and relentless, synchronized training. It wasn't a mere combination of powers; it was the creation of a new, temporary, and vastly more powerful entity. It was a trump card that could redefine battles, often seen only in the upper echelons of tournaments or in the annals of military heroics. For two first-year students to achieve it was nothing short of legendary.
On the teachers' platform, Ye Yingluo could no longer contain her smug satisfaction. A sharp, triumphant smile cut across her face. She glanced at Wu Zhangkong, expecting to see a flicker of concern, or at least acknowledgment of this game-changing variable. She saw neither. He stood, arms crossed, his expression as inscrutable and unmoved as a mountain peak at dawn. His calm gaze was fixed on the arena, analyzing, not worrying.
'Still playing the unflappable ice man?' she thought, a spike of irritation piercing her triumph. 'We'll see how calm you are when your precious prodigy is crushed into the dirt. That'll wipe that detached look off your face.'
Wu Zhangkong's inner monologue was indeed calm, but for a different reason. 'A fusion skill. Impressive synergy. It pushes their combined threat level to the lower tier of a four-ringed expert.' His eyes slid to Yao Xuan. 'Now, let's see how you solve this. Your bloodline's resonance… it should be stirring.'
He was right. Facing the monstrous pressure of the Dark Eagle Dragon, Yao Xuan felt no fear. Instead, a thrilling, profound focus settled over him. This was no longer a schoolyard match; it was a genuine test of the legacy he carried. The primordial might within his veins, the Ancestral Dragon bloodline, didn't cower at this patchwork chimera. It seemed to… stir, with a sense of distant, regal annoyance.
'Perfect,' Yao Xuan thought, a cold, strategic satisfaction warming his chest. He had held back precisely for this moment. Crushing them in their base forms would have been decisive, but defeating their ultimate, fused state? That would be iconic. That would cement the legend of Class Zero beyond any doubt. It would send a message that resonated through the entire academy structure.
The oppressive dark aura of the fusion beast washed over him. It was time to stop measuring his strength in percentages.
He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second. Within him, the connection to his soul spirit—the miniature Ancestral Dragon hovering loyally before him—flared. His second spirit ring, a deep, vibrant yellow, ignited with a light that seemed to fight back the encroaching shadows.
"Second Soul Skill: Ancestral Dragon Overlord Body."
The change was not a flashy explosion, but a profound awakening. The nine-colored scales covering his body didn't just brighten; they deepened, as if absorbing the very light around them to fuel an internal, colossal fire. His frame, already enhanced, seemed to gain a new density, a rooted, immutable solidity as if he'd become part of the continent's bedrock. The air around him warped and thickened, not with darkness, but with a heavy, majestic pressure that spoke of epochs and creation.
His soul power didn't just increase; it transmuted, burning with a fiercer, more potent quality. His physical might—already monstrous—swelled, muscles coiling with power that could reshape stone. His defensive capabilities solidified to an absurd degree. Even his agility, though not the focus, received a significant boost, refining the terrifying potential of his Shattering Void Step.
The surge was visible, palpable. Yao Xuan's aura erupted, not in a chaotic blast, but in a rising, relentless tide of nine-colored radiance. It met the wave of darkness emanating from the Dark Eagle Dragon and did not yield. Instead, the two oppressive forces clashed in the middle of the arena, creating a visible boundary—a shimmering, distorted wall of air where light and darkness contested, neither able to push the other back.
The crowd's murmurs died, replaced by a breathless silence. Then, a new wave of excited chatter broke out, more stunned than before.
"He's… matching it?!"
"That aura! It feels ancient! What is his martial soul?!"
"He was holding back! This whole time, he was holding back!"
"This isn't a freshman match anymore… this is a duel between monsters!"
Even the senior students, who had been watching with mild curiosity, now leaned forward, their eyes wide. The teachers exchanged glances, seeing their own disbelief mirrored. Long Hengxu's earlier regret was now a profound, aching chagrin. He had let a dragon—a literal, primordial dragon—slip into the academy's basement.
On the arena, the Dark Eagle Dragon let out a challenging roar, the dual-toned sound grating and fierce. It lowered its head, the glowing, mismatched eyes fixing on Yao Xuan with predatory intent.
Yao Xuan met its gaze. His own eyes, now reflecting subtle sparks of nine-colored light, were calm, calculating. He rolled his shoulders, the motion causing the air around his scaled form to ripple. He didn't speak a challenge. He simply took a single, measured step forward, the stone beneath his foot not cracking, but compressing with a soft, definitive crunch.
The message was clear. The fusion was their answer. The Overlord Body was his. The preliminaries were over. The true battle for the soul of the freshman year began now. To his side, he felt, rather than saw, Gu Yue shift her stance. The elements around her—fire, light, earth, air—gathered in a quiet, ready hum, a symphony awaiting his conductor's cue. The siege had become a duel of titans, and the arena held its breath for the first, world-shaking clash.