From the underbrush emerged several burly figures.
The oldest appeared around twenty, the youngest already thirteen or fourteen.
The tallest stood over two meters, the shortest nearing that mark—rippling muscles glistening unnaturally under the moonlight.
Elephant Armor Sect?!
Though dawn hadn't broken, Yang Fan instantly recognized them.
Ranked sixth among the Seven Great Sects, calling the Elephant Armor Sect a "prestigious clan" was no exaggeration.
Their inherited martial soul was the Diamond Mammoth—a pure defense-type soul.
Thus, they were hailed as "The Continent's Premier Defensive Sect."
This title wasn't mere boasting. Elephant Armor Sect's might far surpassed any single one of the Four Great Sects. They were arguably only a Title Douluo away from rivaling the third-ranked Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan.
Yang Fan's fists clenched instinctively at the sight of them.
Despite their lofty status, Elephant Armor Sect were the Spirit Hall's most loyal lapdogs.
Precisely for this reason, they'd become the Spirit Hall's foremost spearhead in suppressing the Four Sects.
To put it bluntly—the Spirit Hall likely never took the Four Sects seriously to begin with. They were just swatting flies. But their eager dogs? Those hounds strained to please their master.
In just a few years, Elephant Armor Sect had become the Four Sects' sworn enemy!
"That thousand-year Lightning Panther is ours," Soul King Third Uncle declared grimly.
Though furious, his seasoned composure kept him rational.
Young Elephant Armor disciples deep in Sunset Forest?
Impossible.
Before his words faded, three more hulking figures emerged from the shadows:
"If we spotted it first and chased it here, are you really trying to steal it?"
If the youths were eggs, these newcomers were duck eggs—each easily a full head taller.
The central figure, a man around sixty, stood over 2.3 meters tall, muscles bulging grotesquely.
"Huyan Hai—you push too far!" Bai He snarled.
So this is Huyan Hai?
Yang Fan knew the name—the weakest of Elephant Armor's three elders, a Level 68 Soul Emperor.
"Want it?" Huyan Hai sneered. "Then take it—if you can."
This was Bai He's nature.
Knowing his sect couldn't match Elephant Armor, he still refused to yield.
All four of the abandoned sects shared this stubborn pride.
"Bai He, don't blame us then," Huyan Hai grinned.
They'd been itching for an excuse to crush the Speed Clan—and Bai He had handed it to them.
Huyan Hai stepped forward—seven soul rings blazing.
Seeing Bai He's shock, his lips curled upward.
He was no longer the same man. Two years had transformed him from Soul Emperor to Soul Saint.
Bai He roared, his own seven rings flaring in response.
Sigh…
Yang Fan's heart sank.
The moment their rings lit up, he saw the outcome.
Years had passed, yet Grandpa Bai still hadn't broken through to Soul Douluo.
Words once spoken couldn't be retracted. Even misjudging his foe's strength, Bai He wouldn't retreat.
Battle erupted!
Bai He immediately unleashed his Seventh Soul Skill—Martial Soul True Body. In an instant, he shrank into a Needle-Tailed Swift: one meter long, 1.5-meter wingspan.
His plan was simple: use the True Body's speed boost to pierce Huyan Hai's defenses.
But…
Huyan Hai had a Martial Soul True Body too.
His Seventh Ring activated, transforming him into a colossal mammoth—nearly identical to prehistoric mammoths Yang Fan recalled from his past life, but far more terrifying.
Over five meters long, three meters tall at the shoulder, with two-meter curved tusks radiating crushing pressure.
In a flash—they clashed.
Pure defense naturally countered pure agility.
If Bai He had eight rings to Huyan Hai's six, he might've won. But both were Soul Saints in True Body form—and Bai He couldn't even scratch Huyan Hai's hide.
Bai He tried circling, but the battle-hardened Huyan Hai simply ignored him.
If you can't break my defense, why dodge?
Every bone-jarring blow wore Bai He down. He dodged initially, but soon collapsed—
THUD!
The old man crashed to the ground, shattering his clansmen's hearts and spilling Bai Chenxiang's tears.
"Grandpa, get up…" The five-year-old sobbed over him, voice breaking.
Every Speed Clan member—man, woman, young, old—summoned their martial souls, forming a wall before their fallen chief.
"Go!" Huyan Hai ordered lazily. "Take that beast."
He wasn't rushing to finish them off—but this dismissal stung Bai He deeper than death.
"You won't take that Lightning Panther today," a voice echoed from the black cloak.
Simultaneously, Yang Fan felt unfathomable power flood his body.
He understood Yao Lao's intent instantly—and it matched his own desire perfectly.
Yang Fan shot forward, pale-white Dou Qi surging—
Octane Blast!
His fist tore through the air, warping space with its ferocity.
BOOM—!
Huyan Hai, caught off-guard, flew ten meters backward.
Bai He stared in disbelief.
How?
He'd probed Yang Fan's strength repeatedly. Though unclear, it shouldn't exceed Soul Ancestor—but that punch had physically repelled a pure-defense Soul Saint!
The youths were stunned.
This "weak" wanderer they'd pitied was actually stronger than Chief Bai He!
"Still too weak!" Yang Fan thought bitterly.
He wielded Yao Lao's power—but not his memories.
His four-layer hidden force couldn't fatally wound Huyan Hai's defense.
"Hmph!" Huyan Hai's arrogance vanished, replaced by unprecedented gravity.
That punch had wrung his organs like a phantom hand. Only his insane defense saved him; a normal soul master would've been crippled.
"Since when did the Speed Clan recruit outsiders?" he growled.
"They're not worth my affiliation," Yang Fan retorted coldly.
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