Mu Rong's voice rang out, bringing the sparring to an abrupt end.
At the sound, the figures moved in a flash.
Demon Blade and Suo Ling only had time to exchange a glance before, in the next instant, a tremendous force slammed into them from behind—an attack their bodies couldn't resist.
Before either knew it, Mu Rong had appeared behind them. He thrust out both hands at once, like an eagle snatching up its prey, and grabbed them by the backs of their necks.
"Hey!"
Both of them froze mid-motion. A wave of numbness swept through their bodies, and Mu Rong lifted them off the ground with ease.
Mu Rong casually tossed them aside. The two hit the ground hard and gulped down great breaths of air.
"No more! No more!"
Demon Blade was the first to surrender, flopping onto the ground with a helpless wave of his hand.
"Boss, you're a monster! Even if I had both hands free, I still couldn't beat you!"
"You've already done very well."
Mu Rong drew his hand back.
"As long as you don't unleash your martial soul, even an ordinary attack from a great soul master can still put you in danger."
"So, Boss..."
Suo Ling lay on the ground, her beautiful eyes raised to him.
"Just what kind of martial soul is the Ice Crystal Scorpion?"
"Hmm. Never mind."
Mu Rong rubbed his chin.
"I originally wanted to give you a pleasant surprise, but I'd better tell you first."
"It's a soul beast from the frozen forest, one of the rarest soul beasts there—the Ice Crystal Scorpion."
"The Ice Crystal Scorpion?"
"What is that? I've never heard of it..."
Demon Blade and Suo Ling glanced at each other, their faces full of confusion.
Mu Rong clapped his hands. He didn't explain any further.
Early the next morning, at the academy entrance.
Old Zhou was a middle-aged man with a strong build. He watched Mu Rong with satisfaction, never expecting the boy to take on such an important task.
The carriage suddenly jolted, and though its wheels hit the road with a thud, it stayed steady.
"Hop on, kid."
Old King Ying had been waiting for a while.
Soon, the three of them sat in a spacious carriage and headed toward the frozen forest.
The carriage stopped at the edge of the frozen forest. The biting cold wind swept through the canopy, and in the blink of an eye, the entire forest was covered in frost.
The moment he stepped outside, a bone-chilling cold seeped up through the soles of his feet. Mu Rong had to circulate his soul power at once, driving away the icy chill that seemed to freeze his blood.
Looking around, he saw a vast expanse of white. The trees were covered in thick layers of frost, and enormous ice crystals stretched up toward the sky, reflecting the pale sunlight in a cold, crystalline gleam.
The scene was filled with an untamed, primordial beauty, while also hiding a murderous threat.
Old Zhou stood in the wind, unconcernedly brushing the frost from his clothes and grinning.
"Ah, kid, this is your first time in a place like this, and you came with the three of us. You can't help feeling a little nervous."
His thick fingers poked Mu Rong in the chest.
"Your martial soul has an ice attribute, so you'll have to get used to fighting in a place like this. A little hardship will do you good."
With that, he let out a hearty laugh.
Old King Ying looked cautious. He scanned their surroundings, carefully checking for any dangers.
"Once we enter, you must stay close to us."
Although soul beasts a thousand years old rarely appeared on the outskirts of the frozen forest, anything could happen. They couldn't rule out the possibility of running into a powerful soul beast by chance.
Tang San turned to Mu Rong.
"Also, the soul beast you're looking for is supposedly found near the mixed zone. In other words, we'll have to go deeper into the forest to find it."
"All right, King Ying."
Mu Rong nodded, looking thoughtful.
They walked on for a while. Feeling the cold, biting ice element in the air, he suddenly stopped.
"Wait, I have a request."
"Oh?"
"Could I ask the three of you to help me hunt a soul beast with a cultivation of nine hundred years?"
Tang San had just finished speaking when Old King Ying, who was walking in front, slipped. The man let out a startled cry and crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of snow.
Old Zhou beside him froze, then hurried over and slapped Mu Rong on the head with his huge hand.
"Are you kidding me? You little brat, have you got a death wish?"
Old King Ying scrambled to his feet, brushed the snow off himself, and glared at him.
"Little brat, you want a nine-hundred-year soul beast? You think the old man's life is too easy?"
"King Ying, I'm not joking."
Mu Rong looked serious, not the least bit like he was messing around.
"A soul beast with a cultivation of nine hundred years. I'm sure I can absorb it successfully."
"No way! I absolutely won't agree!"
King Ying's expression was furious.
"Even core disciples with exceptional talent usually have a limit of about five hundred years for their second soul ring!"
"And that's only possible when they have a high soul power and an excellent martial soul!"
"For an ordinary soul master, five or six hundred years is already the limit! You're asking for death!"
Old Zhou withdrew his hand and sided with him, fuming.
"That's right. King's words make sense.
"You're asking for trouble, kid. If you blow yourself up while absorbing the soul ring, the Soul Master Academy will become a laughingstock across the entire soul master world!"
Mu Rong had expected the two old men to react strongly.
This really was beyond common sense.
"Both of you, I know you're doing this for my own good."
He let them finish.
"But I really can absorb it. And I can prove it."
"Oh? How?"
Old Zhou perked up with interest.
"No matter how you prove it, the old man still won't agree!"
King Ying grumbled, his beard bristling. He was completely unwilling to discuss the matter.
"Ha!"
Mu Rong laughed to himself.
Then, a soul ring slowly rose from beneath his feet.
The ring's color was neither the yellow of a hundred-year soul ring nor the purple of a thousand-year one. Instead, it was a deep grayish-black, so dark it seemed to swallow up the light.
"Both of you, take a look at the age of my first soul ring, and you'll understand."
King Ying, who had been furious, and Old Zhou, who had been curious, both froze the instant they saw the soul ring.
Neither had paid any attention to it before. After all, he was just a ten-year-old boy. How high could his first soul ring's age possibly be?
But there it was: the deep, dark soul ring had appeared before them, and the energy fluctuations far beyond those of an ordinary hundred-year soul ring were impossible to fake.
The two exchanged a glance, their expressions stunned.
Their mouths opened at almost the same time, and they blurted out in unison:
"Six hundred years!"
"No way!"
Mu Rong put away his soul ring and calmly explained:
"My first soul ring is six hundred years old. Now, do you believe me?"
"Pff!"
King Ying choked on his saliva, coughing so hard that he pointed at Mu Rong with a trembling finger.
"You... you... how did you do that?"
Old Zhou felt as if his worldview had been shattered.
Back when they were teaching at the academy, they'd known the kid was talented, but neither had imagined he'd reach this point!
His first soul ring was already six hundred years old, and he'd actually managed to absorb it?
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