Time Flies

After the battle ended, the members of the Soul Hunting Group cleaned up the battlefield and treated the wounded as usual. But whenever they looked up at Madara, there was a trace of reverence in their eyes.

Whether in the Shinobi World or this world, the strong were always worthy of respect.

"Your strength has truly opened my eyes!" Li Jia stopped what he was doing and walked over, generously giving Madara a thumbs-up.

"It was nothing more than dealing with a little pest!" Madara did not think there was anything to be pleased about. This had merely been a small scene; he had experienced no shortage of battles far more intense than this.

"Still, do you know that Ye Lingling?" Li Jia abruptly changed the subject and asked.

"Her?" Madara was somewhat confused, unable to understand what Li Jia was getting at.

"That's right! The one with the Nine Heart Begonia martial soul!" Li Jia explained carefully, "One of the three great sects renowned across the continent!"

"Is she that impressive?"

"More than impressive! She's famous throughout the continent!" Li Jia nodded as he watched his teammates gather around her to express their gratitude.

"So what?" Madara remained unconvinced and spoke with the same disdain.

If one was not strong oneself, then everything else was nothing but an illusion!

There were countless Medical Ninja throughout the Shinobi World, yet only Tsunade was truly famous. Wasn't the reason simply that she could fight?

"No matter how powerful the support is, they will ultimately remain a supporting role!" Madara thought.

"You seem to look down on support Soul Masters like us!" Ye Lingling walked over and leaned against a nearby tree. Though her delicate face remained expressionless, her tone betrayed her feelings.

"Think whatever you want!" Madara could tell that the young girl before him was extremely displeased.

"You!" Ye Lingling felt that she had lost her composure. She could no longer maintain her usual cold exterior; this was the first time she had met someone so impervious to persuasion.

"Don't compare me to those weaklings!" Madara's arrogant voice drifted back from afar, as proud and unruly as ever.

For the rest of the journey, everyone remained silent. In the end, they helped Ye Lingling obtain her spirit ring without further danger.

"I have a feeling that we'll meet again someday!" Before leaving, Ye Lingling said meaningfully to Madara.

Naturally, Madara scoffed at this. He only trusted his own instincts—the instincts forged by slaughtering his way through battlefields filled with tens of thousands of ninja!

Yet this was no more than a tiny, insignificant interlude in Madara's journey.

In the days that followed, Madara charged at the forefront in every battle, and his strength naturally improved by leaps and bounds.

Several years passed in a hurry, like a white colt flashing through a gap, leaving no trace behind.

Jeno City, Jie Nuo Grand Soul Fighting Arena.

A youth with black hair like a hedgehog stood at the entrance. He wore a suit of red Battle Armor, radiating an aura that warned strangers to keep their distance. The immaturity had vanished from his face, replaced by pride and dominance.

Behind the youth followed a fox as vivid as fire, its tail swaying back and forth and drawing plenty of attention.

This youth was none other than Madara, who had returned after several years of tempering himself in the Soul Hunting Group. Madara still vaguely remembered the promise he had once made with a supervisor named Jerry.

Madara would surely dominate this Soul Fighting Arena!

Madara's once short and skinny frame had grown tall and sturdy. Standing with his arms crossed, he looked overwhelmingly domineering, finally filling out the red Battle Armor that had once fit him poorly.

After several years of tempering, Madara had not remained unchanged. At the very least, he had advanced to become a Three-ring Soul Master and obtained his Third Spirit Skill.

As expected, Madara's Third Spirit Skill was the Sharingan's famous ability—Copy! Or rather, Replication!

Madara had obtained his Third Spirit Skill from a Spirit Beast capable of imitating other Spirit Beasts. Acquiring this spirit skill had cost him no small amount of effort.

Madara could perfectly replicate his opponent's spirit skills and use them himself.

However, this spirit skill could only improve along with Madara's cultivation. At present, Madara could only replicate spirit skills of three rings or below; he had no way to deal with anything above that.

But this was already powerful enough. As Madara's cultivation slowly increased, the spirit skills he could replicate would become increasingly advanced as well.

"Finally, I'm back!" Madara lifted his head and looked nostalgically at the Soul Fighting Arena's signboard, then strode inside.

"Come in!" The moment Madara reached the entrance, he heard Jerry's vigorous call from within.

"Looks like you've been doing quite well!" Madara said in surprise as he looked at the neatly dressed Jerry, who had even put on a little weight.

"You are?" Jerry pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses. Unable to recognize him, he asked hesitantly.

"A few years ago—the Blood Pupil Asura!" Madara took out his Soul Fighting badge and casually tossed it onto Jerry's desk.

"It's you? You actually came back alive?" Jerry suddenly remembered that Asura from back then. After all, defeating a three-ring opponent while only having two rings—and doing it so easily—there had not been many such ruthless people in their Soul Fighting Arena.

Even now, the reputation of that Asura from years ago still circulated within the Soul Fighting Arena, nearly evolving into a Soul Fighting legend.

People still remembered those blood-red eyes, wielding a scythe and a War Fan as they mercilessly reaped lives.

Over the past few years, some had said that the Blood Pupil Asura was dead, while others said he was still alive. Until today, when he had finally returned.

"Do you remember our promise?" Madara got straight to the point.

As he spoke, Madara quietly summoned his martial soul, revealing the Third Spirit Ring glowing with purple light.

"You've already become a Three-ring Soul Master?" Jerry sprang up from his seat in shock and cried out, "How many years has it been?"

Jerry no longer knew what words could describe his shock. This little fellow before him did not seem to be more than thirteen years old, yet he was already a Three-ring Soul Master.

This had broken the record of Douluo Continent.

Madara leaned forward slightly, bracing both hands on the desk as his sharp gaze fixed on Jerry. "Don't compare me to ordinary people!"

Jerry was momentarily cowed by Madara's overwhelming presence, utterly unable to move, like an animal encountering its natural predator.

This was the suppression of the strong over the weak!

Madara did not look again at the motionless Jerry. He turned and walked step by step toward the floor-to-ceiling window of Jerry's office, arms folded as he coldly looked down upon the crowds coming and going below.

Then let this name, silent for so many years, resound once more!

Though this was clearly Jerry's own territory, he was completely suppressed by Madara. He could only stand there in astonishment, watching the man before him, who seemed capable of holding up the heavens.

Madara would surely leave his own bold and brilliant mark upon the history of Douluo Continent.