Mystic Mage of the Great Soul Arena II

"Mystic Mage! Mystic Mage!"

"A hundred straight wins!"

"Defeat him! I bet my entire fortune on this!"

Spirit City's Great Soul Arena was roaring with voices.

Everyone watched the figure on the arena platform.

The Mystic Mage.

He had appeared at the Great Soul Arena three months ago. In those three months, he had fought nearly a hundred matches without a single defeat.

Today was the Mystic Mage's hundredth soul battle. If he won, he would set a new winning-streak record and make history.

Luo Ling stood at the center of the viewing stands, his heart utterly calm.

He had already made history from his fiftieth consecutive victory onward. Every win after that had been new history.

Over the past three months, he had been constantly fighting, and all his opponents had been Soul Elders.

To him, those Soul Elders could be wiped out with a wave of his hand, but the Great Soul Arena's rules were such that he could only fight opponents of the same rank.

Although his opponents had been rather unchallenging, it was not as though he had gained nothing.

His Distraction Control Method had already reached the level of Three Aperture Heart Control, while his control over his own Martial Soul and Soul Power had also reached a new height.

"Place your bets! Can the Mystic Mage achieve a hundred consecutive wins this time?"

Someone in the stands had opened a betting pool.

"Why is anyone still taking bets? The Mystic Mage has never lost a match. There's no money to be made from this."

"What? The odds for betting on the Mystic Mage to win are one hundred to one? Is this guy insane?"

"How could the Mystic Mage possibly lose?"

"Is your betting pool real? Are you sure you didn't mix it up? The odds for him to lose should be one hundred to one, right?"

"Friend, there's no mistake. The odds for him to win are one hundred to one," the bookmaker replied with a smile.

"Could this be a scam?" someone asked suspiciously.

"How could it be? This has all been registered with the Great Soul Arena!"

"Then I'll bet ten Gold Soul Coins!"

"I'll bet ten Gold Soul Coins too!"

"I'm putting in five Gold Soul Coins!"

Many people could no longer sit still.

Over the past three months, the Mystic Mage's strength had deeply impressed everyone. No one believed he would lose.

With odds like that, this bookmaker might as well have been giving away money.

Of course, a small number of people sensed that something was off and watched coldly from the sidelines.

At that moment, the soul battle on the arena platform was about to begin.

A woman in a gorgeous formal suit stood at the center. Smiling, she announced loudly:

"Welcome to a soul battle that is about to be written into history!"

"I believe everyone has been waiting for this moment for a long time."

The woman flashed the audience a sweet smile, drawing a wave of cheers.

"To my left is the Battle Soul Elder with ninety-nine consecutive victories, Mr. Mystic Mage!"

"Mr. Mystic Mage, a level thirty-seven Soul Elder, Martial Soul: Raven Shadow Puppet."

The woman looked at Luo Ling beside her, her eyes filled with fervor.

Luo Ling merely gave a slight nod without speaking.

"To my right is Mr. Geng Hao, who has come specifically to stop Mr. Mystic Mage."

"At Mr. Mystic Mage's own request, we have selected a Soul Ancestor as his opponent."

"Level forty-three, Martial Soul: Gale Demon Wolf!"

As soon as the woman spoke, the previously noisy audience fell silent for several seconds before erupting into even more frenzied cheers.

"Is the Mystic Mage finally going to challenge someone above his rank?"

"I've said it all along—no one at the same rank is a match for the Mystic Mage. They should've sent in a Soul Ancestor long ago!"

"Holy shit! A Soul Elder against a Soul Ancestor? Can the Mystic Mage still win when he's down one Soul Ring?"

"Fuck, no wonder someone offered one hundred-to-one odds on the Mystic Mage winning. I just bet my entire fortune!"

Those who had just placed their bets regretted it bitterly, while only the bookmaker wore the smile of a profiteer.

"I admit you're strong, Mystic Mage, but you shouldn't have arrogantly demanded to challenge someone above your rank!"

On the arena platform, the man named Geng Hao stared at Luo Ling with a sinister grin.

In the past three months, everyone in the Great Soul Arena had come to know the Mystic Mage's name.

Many people were jealous of the Mystic Mage, Geng Hao included.

The moment he learned from the Great Soul Arena that the Mystic Mage wanted to challenge someone above his rank, he signed up without a second thought.

"Today, I'll be the one to end your winning streak!" Geng Hao excitedly activated his Martial Soul.

Yellow, yellow, purple, purple—a standard Soul Ring configuration.

Luo Ling casually glanced at his opponent and said nothing.

A crow descended from his shoulder and transformed into his likeness.

Even Bai Yu of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect had been no match for him, much less some unaffiliated Soul Ancestor.

Still, he would not kill his opponent in one strike from the start. He was here to train himself, after all. At the very least, he had to let his opponent use all his Soul Skills.

Seeing Luo Ling release his Martial Soul, Geng Hao's smile faded.

Though he believed Luo Ling was no match for him, there was no doubt that Luo Ling was strong.

The Mystic Mage was not just a title. He truly was bizarre.

His methods of battle were unimaginable. He controlled feathers and a scythe, and could even control his opponents without them noticing.

No one knew what the Mystic Mage's Soul Rings were like, because they could not be seen.

To this day, no one knew how the Mystic Mage controlled others.

Moreover, every battle had been fought by the person transformed from the crow. No one had ever managed to touch the Mystic Mage's true body.

At that moment, Luo Ling was the first to attack.

Raven Feathers shot toward Geng Hao one after another.

Geng Hao did not dare lower his guard. His first Soul Ring lit up.

Wind Blade activated.

Pale green Wind Blades shot toward the Raven Feathers. The two collided in midair and vanished together.

Geng Hao was somewhat dissatisfied. He was a Soul Ancestor, yet his Soul Skill had failed to suppress a mere Soul Elder.

Luo Ling remained unmoved and continued firing Raven Feathers.

Geng Hao did not know that Luo Ling had actually suppressed the Raven Feathers' power. Otherwise, the Raven Feathers alone would have been enough to defeat him.

"Second Soul Skill, Demon Wolf Possession!"

"Third Soul Skill, Demon Wolf Assault!"

Having failed to suppress Luo Ling, Geng Hao's expression darkened as he directly activated his second and third Soul Rings.

In an instant, his body became even more savage after Martial Soul Possession.

Sharp claws and fangs emerged, while Demon Wolf fur covered his entire body, turning him into a werewolf.

The next second, the werewolf pounced forward like an afterimage, leaving faint cracks in the ground.

Geng Hao's target was not the Raven Shadow Puppet, but Luo Ling's true body.

Luo Ling's ninety-nine soul battles had revealed much. The Raven Shadow Puppet felt no pain and could not be injured. To win, one could only attack the true body.

Many people had been exhausted to death by the Raven Shadow Puppet.

"Kid! Lose already!" The werewolf revealed a savage grin and appeared before Luo Ling in the blink of an eye.

Luo Ling still did not move. In his eyes, the werewolf was like prey caught in a spiderweb.

Countless Darkness Threads had long since formed an inescapable net before Luo Ling.

Just as the claws were about to seize Luo Ling's face, Geng Hao was already imagining the moment he successfully ended the hundred-win streak.

But the claws came to an abrupt stop before Luo Ling's eyes.

The smile froze on the werewolf's face. He suddenly realized that he had somehow been bound without noticing.

Geng Hao was horrified and hurriedly released Soul Power to struggle, but in the next instant, dense Raven Feathers fired directly into the werewolf's face.

Luo Ling had lowered the Raven Feathers' power to the minimum. A massive number of Raven Feathers swept the werewolf away like a storm, sending him flying into the distance.

The werewolf crashed to the ground. His body had not suffered much damage, but the humiliation was immense.