Huyan Zhen's facial muscles twitched violently. His entire arm felt numb, as if it had lost all sensation.
This old man… why?
He had severely underestimated Yang Wudi!
This old man's strength was nowhere near that of someone who'd just become a Soul Douluo three years ago.
Why?
Was the intelligence wrong? Or had Yang Wudi's power skyrocketed these past years?
"This…"
"Old Goat, he…?"
The other three clan leaders watching nearby were even more stunned.
No one on Douluo Continent understood Yang Wudi's strength better than them—not even the Breaking Clan clansmen.
Two years ago, Yang Wudi was Level 81. They'd even sparred during their last gathering.
But today…
Old Goat's displayed power was definitely not Level 81. Not even Level 82.
"What has this old man experienced these past two years?" Tai Tan muttered.
The other two could only shake their heads.
All they knew: Yang Wudi's strength had surged—and now they understood why he dared challenge Huyan Zhen.
The battle raged on…
Huyan Zhen's sixth spirit ring flared.
No more carelessness.
Under its glow, his right fist swelled visibly—in seconds, bloated like a water vat, making his nearly three-meter frame look grotesquely unbalanced.
One punch!
His massive fist swung down.
Earth-yellow soul power coalesced around it. Fierce wind whipped yellow sand into the air.
Target: Yang Wudi!
Even Yang Fan saw the punch's terror—but his grandfather acted as if he hadn't noticed.
No change in stance.
Just stabbing forward.
Yang Wudi's first spirit ring ignited. Explosive energy erupted.
First Soul Skill: Shock!
The encroaching fist wind shattered into fragments.
Thrust!
His sixth ring flashed simultaneously.
The broad spearhead glinted coldly. Offensive power spiked to a terrifying degree.
This simple, unadorned thrust forced Huyan Zhen to switch from offense to defense.
His descending fist veered sharply to slap the spear tip away.
That punch could've crippled Yang Wudi… but the spear would've pierced his chest the next second.
Huyan Zhen was afraid.
In this wound-for-wound fight, he had to dodge.
But—
Yang Wudi struck again.
Thrust!
Thrust!
Thrust!
Each attack looked plain… yet landed perfectly.
Every time Huyan Zhen tried to counter, the Soul Breaking Spear aimed for his throat or heart—forcing him to defend.
After dozens of exchanges, Yang Wudi gained the upper hand.
"Old Goat, well done!"
"Stab him!"
"…"
Seeing the tide turn, the three spectating clan leaders cheered wildly.
Yang Fan's heartbeat raced.
It was his first time watching his grandfather fight up close.
This deceptively simple style—so brutally effective.
This was the Soul Breaking Spear's essence.
His own flashy spearwork suddenly felt childish.
No wonder Grandfather said his mastery was lacking. This battle revealed the chasm.
"ROAR—!"
Huyan Zhen bellowed skyward. Black light engulfed his body.
His frame contorted—limbs thickened into elephant legs, head morphed into a tusked elephant skull.
In an instant—Huyan Zhen vanished. A fifteen-meter Diamond Mammoth stood in his place.
Martial Soul True Body!
A skill powerful Soul Masters dreaded releasing.
The post-activation weakness was perilous. Using it meant life-or-death stakes.
But Huyan Zhen had no choice.
He couldn't lose.
Not just for the Blood Coagulation Powder—but to keep crushing the Four Attribute Sects.
Elephant Armored Sect targeted them to:
1) Please the Spirit Hall.
2) Force them into submission, boosting their own standing.
"BANG—!"
Black flame erupted from Yang Wudi's spear, engulfing both man and weapon.
The Soul Breaking Spear remained unchanged in size—but now blazed like liquid shadow.
He activated his seventh soul skill the moment Huyan Zhen transformed.
Four levels apart… yet they were evenly matched.
Yang Wudi had calculated:
His innate ninth ring compensated for around three levels. The last? Left to the spear's relentless courage.
"Seeking death!" Huyan Zhen roared.
He unleashed his eighth skill.
The Diamond Mammoth swelled to fifteen meters. Granite-like earth-yellow armor encased its body. His aura surged visibly.
Titan's Fury!
A full-attribute enhancement skill—the very reason Elephant Armored Sect held sixth place.
Yang Wudi's black flames surged.
His eighth ring blazed—along with all six non-True-Body rings.
Breaking Clan's evolution favored enhancement skills.
All eight rings activated!
An advantage active skills could never match.
"HAH—!"
Yang Wudi's eyes burned bloodshot.
New grudges. Old hatreds. Everything rides on this attack!
SCREECH—!
Spear met hide—sparks flew like steel on steel.
Both bodies flew backward.
Mid-air—
Huyan Zhen's soul power failed. He landed as a pale, bleeding 2.5-meter man.
Yang Wudi collapsed too, vomiting two mouthfuls of blood.
"Don't move!" he rasped, raising a hand.
The gamble wasn't over.
Any intervention meant surrender.
He stood, spear in hand, gaze razor-sharp:
"You lost. Never let me see you or the Elephant Armored Sect in Yunluo City again."
Yes.
Huyan Zhen lost.
His True Body collapsed from exhaustion. Yang Wudi bled—but his True Body held.
Huyan Zhen's face turned ashen. Lips trembled.
Spurt—! A mouthful of old blood erupted.
"Sect Master!"
"Sect Master, are you alright?!"
The Elephant Armored Sect members burned to retaliate—but faced four united sects? Impossible.
They retreated, seething.
Only then did Yang Wudi crumple.
He'd wanted to stab Huyan Zhen's throat… but was already at his limit.
"Old Goat!"
"Don't scare us!"
"Grandfather!"
"Clan Leader!"
No response. Unconscious.
The three elders confirmed:
It was overexertion from forcibly maintaining the Martial Soul True Body which caused the fainting.
Yang Fan knew the cost: burning future cultivation potential.
"Take him back!"
Under their guard, Yang Wudi returned to the Breaking Clan.
…
Night.
Yang Fan sent the three elders away with an excuse.
"Master… Grandfather will be okay, right?"
Damn.
He'd just given Grandfather an immortal herb days ago—the effects were likely drained by this battle.
Worse: would this depletion block Grandfather's path to Title Douluo forever?
"Relax. It's nothing serious," Yao Lao said calmly.
"If one True Body overuse broke a Soul Master's foundation, Douluo Continent's cultivators would be too fragile."
"Leave it to your Master."
Yang Fan exhaled.
Without Yao Lao? Grandfather's fate would've been uncertain.
"Bring out that Eight-Petal Immortal Orchid—the foundation-nourishing one."
Even the cleverest housewife needs rice.
Yao Lao had methods—but required materials.
"Do… do we need an immortal herb?" Yang Fan stammered.
Is Grandfather's condition that critical?
"Don't panic, boy," Yao Lao smiled. "You've always wanted him to become Title Douluo. This is your chance."
He gave no further explanation. Yang Fan also asked for none.
He trusted Yao Lao.
Without hesitation, he retrieved the treasured orchid from his soul tool.
The Black Demon Cauldron reappeared.
"Master… refine it here?"
Worried the elders might return.
"The Eight-Petal Immortal Orchid is supremely gentle. Easily absorbed. During refinement, its pill energy will greatly benefit nearby Soul Masters."
Yang Fan understood.
I'll guard outside. No one enters tonight.
"Go." Yao Lao's eyes crinkled with pride.
…
"Yang Fan?"
Bai He's voice carried mild reproach. "Why aren't you tending Old Goat? Roaming outside?"
He'd offered to stay—but this brat insisted on "filial duty" and vanished.
"The elder said Grandfather needs quiet rest! I was afraid of making noise inside," Yang Fan improvised smoothly.
"Grandpa Bai… do you need something?"
Bai He's expression turned solemn. He produced the Crystal Blood Dragon Ginseng.
Yang Fan's breath hitched—but shook his head.
"Grandpa Bai… I already gave Grandfather the Eight-Petal Immortal Orchid I meant to trade."
He wanted that ginseng.
Tricks? Deception? He could've used any.
But not by exploiting Grandfather's condition and decades of brotherhood.
"Little rascal… at least you're filial," Bai He murmured, eyes softening.
He'd forgotten Yang Fan possessed an even rarer immortal herb.
He'd seen it. It would definitely restore the Old Goat.
"You wanted this ginseng for yourself back then?"
"Why?"
"Because I want to become a Titled Douluo."
Bai He's gaze sharpened.
Silence stretched.
Then, quietly: "Then Grandpa gives it to you."
Tai Tan and Niu Gao might've missed it—but not Bai He.
This boy was never ordinary.
If Yang Fan's cultivation had truly stalled, Yang Wudi wouldn't have worn that calm smile during the gathering—even with ten million gold soul coins.
"You're really giving it to me?"
"When has Grandpa ever broken his word?"
The Speed Clan's poverty stemmed not just from their "noble" Needle-Tailed Swift martial soul…
But from Bai He's unshakable word.
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