"National Preceptor, what is it? Could it be that there's someone among the competitors below who interests you?"
Xu Tianran, seated in the place of honor, keenly noticed the abnormality in Zhongli Wu beside him. He turned his head slightly and asked.
Zhongli Wu's expression remained calm, his tone unruffled. "Your Majesty, I cannot be entirely certain either. However, I find that little fellow from the Witch Cult below rather interesting. Perhaps he is destined to join our Holy Church. As for the specifics, we should wait and see how he performs."
"Oh?" Hearing Zhongli Wu's words, Xu Tianran narrowed his eyes slightly, an unfathomable glint flashing through them. Following Zhongli Wu's earlier gaze, he looked down at the Competition Platform.
No one understood Zhongli Wu's identity and origins better than he, the Imperial Emperor. Destined for the Holy Spirit Cult? Didn't that mean the other party was either an Evil Soul Master or possessed exceptional talent for becoming one?
"Both sides, prepare. Begin!"
The referee raised his hand high. After looking over both sides and confirming that they were ready, he abruptly brought his arm down and announced the start of the match.
"Then let me have some fun."
A strange smile appeared on Real Person's face. Immediately afterward, six Soul Rings—two yellow, two purple, and two black—emerged. Yet there was no sign whatsoever of Martial Soul Possession on his body.
"Ha!"
Opposite him, Wu Yifan stepped forward and extended the index and middle fingers of his right hand, pressing them together and pointing ahead.
A piercing howl rang out at once, and a long, broad cyan greatsword appeared in midair.
They were called the Proud Sword Sect, so naturally, their Martial Soul was a sword.
The same six Soul Rings—two yellow, two purple, and two black—flashed into view.