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"Want to learn the true Flame Splitting Tsunami?"
Yao Lao's words sent Yang Fan's heart racing—just as he finished his latest session of cultivation.
"Master, please teach me!" Yang Fan pleaded instantly.
Yao Lao chuckled and pulled an ancient scroll from his spatial ring.
He'd originally planned to wait until Yang Fan reached Dou Zhe before passing down this technique.
But Yang Fan's performance in the arena yesterday had been too impressive to ignore.
Though his earlier attempt at the move was just the form without essence, Yao Lao could clearly see the effort Yang Fan had secretly poured into studying its mechanics—especially in how he channeled Dou Qi.
"Thank you, Master!"
The scroll was a dull earthen yellow—so unremarkable it might easily be mistaken for trash.
Yang Fan unrolled it carefully. The inscription inside was crisp and clear:
[Flame Splitting Tsunami]
Earth-Tier Low-Grade. At mastery: cleaves mountains, parts tides—with mere gestures.
Holding the scroll, Yang Fan felt its weight—not physical, but spiritual.
This was an Earth-Tier Dou technique!
On the Dou Qi Continent, such scrolls sparked bloody battles among cultivators. Here in Douluo, it was utterly unique—one of a kind.
Before he could even savor the joy, the soul energy embedded in the scroll surged into his mind.
A cool thread slipped into his consciousness—and in an instant, the complete essence of Flame Splitting Tsunami was imprinted in his memory.
"This… this is the true Flame Splitting Tsunami," Yang Fan whispered in awe.
The soul-inscribed knowledge didn't just describe the move—it showed him exactly how to channel Dou Qi, how to shift his stance, how to release power with perfect timing.
It was indescribably profound.
"Though it's an Earth-Tier technique," Yao Lao cautioned, "its full power can only be unleashed with the Heavy Xuan Ruler. Without it, the technique's strength won't even reach thirty percent."
Making Yang Fan carry the ruler had always served two purposes: tempering his Dou Qi now, and preparing him for advanced techniques later.
"Train diligently," Yao Lao said. "At your current level, you still can't unleash its true might."
"Yes, Master!"
Yang Fan sat cross-legged on the bed, summoning every ounce of Dou Qi in his body. He wrapped it around the massive shaft of the Heavy Xuan Ruler—but didn't release it.
Instead, he practiced control: refining his energy flow, adjusting his grip, mastering the precise moment of release.
He dared not unleash the full technique in Tian Dou City. Even a weakened version would surely draw the attention of both the Imperial Guard and the Spirit Hall.
…
A day and night of intense training passed swiftly.
Yang Fan faced another evening in Tian Dou City.
"And now, please welcome yesterday's underdog victor…" the announcer boomed, drawing out the suspense, "Yao——Chen!"
"And his opponent—the Soul Grandmaster with five consecutive wins in our arena… Huo——Wu——Shuang!"
Both stepped onto the dueling platform almost simultaneously.
Perhaps still seething from his sister's humiliating loss yesterday, Huo Wushuang's eyes burned with fury the moment he appeared.
"One minute to prepare!"
Like his sister, Huo Wushuang was a Level 25 Soul Grandmaster—but his martial soul was the One Horned Fire Dragon.
Upon activation, orange-red flames engulfed his body. His already muscular frame visibly swelled, his skin hardening into dark crimson scales, and a short horn protruded from his forehead. Behind him loomed the spectral silhouette of a dragon.
Beast-type soul masters were fundamentally different from weapon-type soul masters.
When beast soul masters activated their martial souls, they inherited physical traits from their beasts—the higher their rank, the more pronounced these features became.
In stark contrast to Huo Wushuang's dramatic transformation, Yang Fan simply pulled the Heavy Xuan Ruler from his storage soul tool.
"Is this your martial soul?" Huo Wushuang asked, having seen Yang Fan's registration form listing "Heavy Xuan Ruler" under martial soul.
"Where's your soul ring?"
Faced with rapid-fire questions, Yang Fan remained silently enigmatic—deepening his aura of mystery.
The minute ended.
Huo Wushuang's expression turned grim. He clasped his hands before his chest—dark red light surged from his palms, condensing into a palm-sized energy orb that shot toward Yang Fan.
This was his first soul skill: Tyrant Dragon Strike!
Without hesitation, Yang Fan charged forward, dragging the ruler—longer than his own body—behind him.
Even as searing heat blasted his face, he didn't flinch.
The fireball closed in like lightning—and at the last moment, Yang Fan used his sprinting momentum to twist his waist and swing the Heavy Xuan Ruler in a brutal arc.
BOOM!
The fireball shattered—sparks exploded outward—and the ruler nearly flew from Yang Fan's grip from the impact.
Huo Wushuang couldn't understand why Yang Fan chose such a reckless, head-on approach.
But how could he know? A Soul Breaking Spear soul master's creed was simple: always charge forward.
In the split second Huo Wushuang hesitated, Yang Fan activated his Dou Qi—circulating it at maximum speed.
Earth-Tier Dou Technique—Flame Splitting Tsunami!
Release—!
"Hold back!" Yao Lao's voice snapped in his mind.
Yang Fan instantly restrained a third of his power.
The next instant—
Dou Qi erupted from the ruler, forming a crescent-shaped energy blade that sliced through the air.
Seeing this, Huo Wushuang frantically activated his second soul skill: Fire Dragon Roar!
A roaring dragon's head made of soul power surged from his fist, charging straight at the crescent slash.
Brute force meets brute force!
But how could a soul skill stand against a true Earth-Tier Dou technique?
The dragon's head disintegrated on contact. The shockwave hurled Huo Wushuang backward—he crashed onto the arena floor, then skidded another five or six meters from the scorching blast.
The entire 50-meter-wide dueling platform trembled faintly from the impact.
This was Yang Fan's first true use of Flame Splitting Tsunami.
Its power was terrifying.
Had Yao Lao not reminded him to hold back, Huo Wushuang would likely be bedridden for weeks.
"Winner… Yao Chen."
Even the referee's voice carried disbelief.
Yes, it was technically an underdog challenge—but who was really the underdog here?
"He… won again?"
"Where did this dwarf named Yao Chen come from?"
"Two successful rank-challenging victories in a row—this little guy's insane!"
"I'm betting on him tomorrow!"
"…"
Win once? Luck.
Win twice? Skill.
No one in the Great Spirit Arena dared underestimate Yang Fan anymore—at least, not among Soul Grandmasters. No one claimed they could defeat him with certainty.
"Brother, are you okay?" Huo Wu rushed to her brother's side.
Huo Wushuang shook his head. The physical pain was nothing compared to the sting of defeat.
Could Yao Chen really be only Level 19?
The question gnawed at him.
But the arena's authority was unquestionable—they tested every duelist's soul power before matches.
"Damn it!" he growled. "Next time we meet, I'll crush him."
When Huo Wu looked up toward the opposite tunnel—
Yang Fan was already gone without a trace.
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