The other nine people saw Xiao Yun too.
A young newcomer with a restrained aura, he showed nothing remarkable.
In the Soul Dueling Arena, newcomers like him were usually the first to be eliminated.
The nine people's eyes lit up almost simultaneously. Without so much as exchanging a word, they unanimously chose Xiao Yun as their first target.
They would join forces to eliminate the weakest opponent, then let their own abilities decide the rest.
Nine streams of killing intent locked onto Xiao Yun at once, almost tangible.
Xiao Yun lowered his eyes slightly, his hands clasped behind his back, as though he had not noticed their malice.
The next moment, all nine moved.
Nine figures lunged at Xiao Yun from nine directions at the same time.
Some wielded blades, some used claws, some unleashed ranged attacks with Soul Power, and one flashed straight behind Xiao Yun.
Their nine attacks sealed off every avenue of retreat, forming a net without a single gap.
Xiao Yun moved.
His movements were not particularly fast, at least not in the eyes of the veterans in the stands.
He merely turned slightly sideways to evade a blade slashing at him from the front, stepped back to let the claws attacking from behind miss, and ducked as a blade of Soul Power swept over his head.
Every movement was just right, neither a fraction too much nor a fraction too little.
Then he struck.
There was no glow of Soul Power, no eruption of a Soul Skill, only the purest physical strength.
He drove a fist squarely into the chest of a burly man charging toward him.
The man grunted and flew backward like a kite with its string cut, spraying a cloud of blood from his mouth.
Xiao Yun turned sideways and drove an