The Name Blood Pupil Asura

"Pig! You shouldn't be so easy to chop apart, right?" Madara stomped the ground and shot forward like a swift cheetah.

"Bastard! My name is Yan Ya! Prepare to die!" Hearing Madara dare call him a pig, the Rock Fang Demon Pig Soul Master charged at him in a rage.

Madara raised his War Fan and casually blocked Yan Ya's punch. The blood that had begun to boil from battle gradually cooled once more.

"Is this all you've got? What a disappointment!" Madara's voice was slightly muffled beneath his iron mask, yet it could not conceal his deep disappointment.

He had thought the Soul Masters fighting in the Soul Fighting Arena would be powerful. He had thought the gap in their Spirit Rings would be enormous.

That sense of challenge had made Madara quietly delighted. It had been a long time since he had encountered a challenge.

But reality had disappointed Madara too much!

"How did someone at your level survive this long?" Madara asked with chilling killing intent. His other hand was no slower, the scythe slicing through the air with a mournful whistle.

Too fast! He couldn't dodge!

"Thick Rock Heavy Armor!" Under the threat of death, Yan Ya roared. The First Spirit Ring behind him lit up, and a brownish-yellow glow flowed across his body as though he had donned a layer of heavy armor.

This was his First Spirit Skill. It formed a suit of rock armor over his body while increasing his defense by twenty percent.

Rock Fang Demon Pigs were already thick-skinned and tough. With the rock armor and the enhancement from his Spirit Skill, his defense rose to another level. This was what had allowed him to survive against countless enemies.

"No one can break through my defense!" Yan Ya bared his teeth in a savage grin, utterly refusing to believe that a mere One-Ring Soul Master like Madara could accomplish it.

Clang! Crack!

Yan Ya's smile froze on his face. He watched spiderweb-like cracks spread across the rock armor where the scythe had struck, before it peeled away and shattered layer by layer.

"How is that possible?" Yan Ya cried in horror.

Madara even felt that fighting trash like this was an insult to himself. He said disdainfully, "In this world, nothing is impossible!"

Everything had happened in the blink of an eye. The audience only saw Yan Ya's attack get blocked, then Madara counterattacked, and Yan Ya's Spirit Skill was instantly broken.

"Rock Fang Demon Pig! Can you even do this?"

"Finish him already! I still want to win a few more Gold Soul Coins!"

Yan Ya had no attention to spare for the spectators' jeers. Cold sweat ran down his cheeks to his chin, then dripped to the ground.

His rock armor had been broken with a single strike. If that blow had landed on his body...

Yan Ya swallowed hard. He did not dare think any further.

Yan Ya did not dare make a sound, but Madara was growing impatient with the piercing shouts.

"Shut up!" Madara turned toward the stands and shouted. The killing intent around him erupted without restraint, like a savage beast ready to devour its prey.

In an instant, everyone seemed like ducks with their throats clutched tight. They felt the oppression of a natural predator, and the arena became so quiet that a pin dropping could be heard.

He was clearly only one man, yet he forcefully suppressed the momentum of an entire crowd. It was like a lion facing a flock of sheep—they felt the pressure of a creature at the top of the food chain.

While Madara was putting the crowd in its place, Yan Ya seized the chance to desperately flee from him, wanting to get as far away as possible.

What Yan Ya did not know was that if Madara wanted to kill him, it would be effortless. Letting him run was merely Madara's way of adding a little amusement to a battle whose outcome had already been decided.

"Hahaha! Die! Earth Thorn Fang!" Yan Ya, who had already retreated to the far end of the Soul Fighting Platform, laughed wildly. His Second Spirit Ring lit up behind him.

Yan Ya clenched his five fingers into a fist and dropped to one knee, as though he were about to surrender, before smashing his fist brutally into the ground.

Yan Ya's punch seemed to strike the surface of water, instantly stirring layer upon layer of ripples that transformed into countless waves of earth rushing toward Madara, trying to bury him.

Is this your final move? It's still too weak to spark even the slightest interest.

Madara remained calm. Compared to the earth-release ninjutsu of the Shinobi World War, those techniques capable of shattering mountains and splitting the earth, these waves of soil were insignificant.

Madara tapped the ground with his toes and leaped into the air. Chakra spread across the soles of his feet as he stood on the side wall of the Soul Fighting Platform, avoiding the earthen waves while accelerating toward Yan Ya.

If Madara had been a swift cheetah before, then at this moment, he had transformed into an incomparably nimble wildcat.

Yan Ya, who had attacked Madara, never could have imagined that someone could stand on a wall.

"Your dance is truly clumsy beyond measure!" Madara sneered, looking at Yan Ya as though he were already dead.

"What? You're not dead?!" Yan Ya shouted in terror. He had already covered himself in rock armor again, but it gave him no sense of security at all.

Yan Ya saw a flash before his eyes, and Madara appeared directly in front of him.

Along with Madara came a scythe gleaming with cold light, cutting straight at Yan Ya's head.

Yan Ya was terrified out of his wits and hurriedly raised his arm to shield his head.

Splurt!

"Ahhh!!!" As an arm flew through the air, Yan Ya's scream rang throughout the entire Soul Fighting Arena.

"How can a One-ring Soul Master be this strong?!"

Madara's weapon had been forged entirely from Iron Essence. Naturally, cutting through Yan Ya was no difficult task.

Madara would not show mercy because of that. The scythe swung a second time, determined to sever Yan Ya's head.

Yan Ya used all his strength to tilt his head slightly, but he still failed to evade the scythe. One of his ears was sliced off at the root.

Run, run, I have to run!

Yan Ya had been completely frightened out of his wits by Madara. He had never encountered such a brutal enemy.

Yan Ya scrambled out of Madara's attack range in a pathetic crawl, clutching his severed arm as he staggered toward the entrance of the Soul Fighting Platform.

"Open the gate! Let me out!"

Unfortunately, in a Life and Death Duel, the gate would only open after one person had died.

"Don't come any closer! You're a demon!" Yan Ya said despairingly as he watched Madara walk toward him, unhurried step by unhurried step.

Yan Ya had already broken down when Madara cut off his arm. He could not see even the slightest hope of victory.

Relying on his level and Spirit Skills, Yan Ya had killed or crippled quite a few newcomers in the past. He had never suffered any serious injuries, much less had an arm severed.

Evil people would eventually meet someone more vicious than themselves! This time, he had fallen into Madara's hands.

"Your will is truly fragile beyond measure!" Madara shook his head.

To be precise, compared to Madara, who had dared challenge the entire world alone, anyone's will would seem fragile beyond measure.

Madara had come to the Soul Fighting Arena in search of surprises, but all it had given him was disappointment after disappointment.

Day after day of training had made Madara's physique surpass even that of many two-ring Soul Grand Masters. Those Soul Grand Masters who only knew how to cultivate Spirit Skills and passively strengthen their bodies and combat techniques had been left far behind by Madara.

Hard work did not betray those who persevered. Madara's daily efforts had finally begun to bear fruit.

"Die!" A dagger formed from rock stabbed toward Madara, only to be knocked aside with a swing of his War Fan.

Losing focus in battle was courting death, so Madara would never lose focus while fighting.

"Please! Spare my life!" Seeing that his sneak attack had failed, Yan Ya actually dropped to his knees and begged Madara for mercy.

"You're not even worth as much as sand!" Madara showed no mercy as he swung down. Yan Ya's head, his eyes still wide with disbelief, flew high into the air.

At least the sand of the Shinobi World would not kneel and beg for mercy!

An eerie silence fell over the stands. Everyone had been stunned by Madara's performance.

Decisive and clean! Unstoppable! Overwhelming!

The first slash broke the rock armor, the second severed an arm, and the third—

"Blood Pupil Asura!" No one knew who had been the first to shout Madara's title.

"Blood Pupil Asura! Blood Pupil Asura!" The entire Soul Fighting Arena erupted. Everyone cheered for Madara, cheered for Blood Pupil Asura!

The charged atmosphere even infected the host. He could not help roaring, "The winner of this match is Blood Pupil Asura! Let us cheer for Asura!"

"Blood Pupil Asura!" Countless voices merged into a single title that echoed through the heavens and earth.

Blood Pupil Asura had made his name here!!!