Frost Fist

Ning Fengzhi did not stand on ceremony either. He cupped his fists in both hands, smiled faintly, then retreated and left the field to the two of them.

Chen Xin stood on the flat ground, his sharp gaze fixed on the distance. A soaring aura radiated from him, as if it could split mountains and sever seas.

His clothes stirred though there was no wind, and the presence around him grew much stronger in an instant. This strength was something one could truly feel, not mere pressure from aura alone.

A heavy presence emanated from Wriothesley, as if the entire space had turned solemn and oppressive.

"Prepare yourself." Chen Xin and Wriothesley each took their positions, their gazes locked tightly on each other, their bodies radiating a razor-sharp aura.

"All right." Wriothesley nodded in response. The ice-element God's Eye hanging from his left shoulder flashed continuously, releasing flurries of snowflakes.

When starting a fight, one laid out the field first. Only then did it have a bit of style.

On Douluo Continent, any Title Douluo worth the name had soul-skill special effects flying all over the sky. If Wriothesley did not do something too, would that not be far too undignified?

Abilities could be constantly innovated, but looking cool was a lifelong matter.

To be honest, back in Meropide, Wriothesley had never had time to study the God's Eye.

He was either fighting underground matches or handling administration, and sometimes, with a single word from Neuvillette, he had to run back and forth between the surface and below the water.

Only after arriving on Douluo Continent did he have more time.

Especially in summer, when there was no ice, the usefulness of an ice-element God's Eye became apparent.

Ice—black tea.

If the people of Douluo Continent had God's Eyes, Wriothesley would have wanted to write a book himself and simply call it 108 Ways to Use a God's Eye.

"It's a little cold!" Ning Fengzhi was not a Title Douluo, and naturally did not have the physique of one. So when Wriothesley's God's Eye began to operate, even the surrounding temperature started dropping at a rate visible to the naked eye.

With a wave of Chen Xin's right hand, the Seven Kill Sword instantly left its sheath. Under the sunlight, the blade flashed with a piercing cold gleam, as if countless strands of killing intent were hidden within it, making fear rise in one's heart. Sword intent surged over like a tide, piercing through heaven and earth in an instant and stirring ripples through the air. The surrounding atmosphere seemed to grow heavy under this aura, as though it were being pressed until it could barely breathe.

That murderous chill was even more like a biting cold wind, shooting straight into the clouds and whipping up dust all around. It made people hold their breath involuntarily, as a crushing pressure from the abyss of death welled up in their hearts. Chen Xin's figure seemed to transform into an invisible longsword, the breath within his body merging with his blade. His entire being radiated an indomitable dominance, as though anything standing before him would be swept away beneath his sharp sword edge.

The intense Seven Kill Sword intent was like a surging sea tide, lifting Sword Douluo's feet and allowing him to slowly float into the air. An unusual light flickered in his eyes, like a storm hidden beneath a calm water surface, every shadow speaking of endless slaughter and glory. The air around him also tightened along with his presence, as if dark clouds were pressing down, causing the entire sky to dim by a few degrees in an instant. Even the sunlight seemed to feel awe before this aura.

Ning Fengzhi's expression changed slightly. Although he was a Soul Saint and naturally possessed a stubborn pride in his heart, under this pressure, he could only silently shut his mouth and think to himself that he absolutely must not disturb the duel about to unfold. The nine soul rings around Chen Xin seemed like blooming flowers, alternating between yellow, purple, and black, arranged so perfectly that they proclaimed his unparalleled strength and reputation.

"Chen Xin, martial soul: Seven Kill Sword." He steadily spoke those words, his voice exploding through the air like Thunderclap, making everyone present involuntarily feel solemn respect. Then came a resounding title. "Title: Sword."

Among Title Douluo, announcing one's title before a spar had already become an unwritten rule on Douluo Continent. On one hand, it was to show mutual respect; on the other, it was to declare one's own strength.

Every Title Douluo possessed their own title. It was a mark of the accomplishments they had established on the road to becoming a Title Douluo. To announce it now was to intimidate the opponent while also displaying one's power.

In truth, Chen Xin had another meaning in saying this.

Wriothesley's title.

Although everyone had always called him Duke Wriothesley, as a Title Douluo, how could he not have a title?

They could not very well call him "Duke Douluo," could they?

However, now that he had seen the attribute of Wriothesley's "martial soul," they could come up with one on the spot.

"Your Grace, the Duke, you do not have a title yet, do you?" In the tense atmosphere just before battle, Ning Fengzhi could not help smiling as he asked, as if trying to ease the mood.

"I really don't. Why don't you come up with one for me?" Wriothesley replied lightly, his tone carrying a trace of calm indifference. He actually did not care much about things like titles. To him, they were nothing more than a form of address.

Back in Fontaine, a high-ranking title like Duke should have come with a grand investiture ceremony, but he had found it troublesome and only wanted to sign a document and be done with it.

If not for the Palais Mermonia sending letters over and over, he might not even have wanted to leave his office in Meropide.

And now, if Xue Qinghe had not warmly invited him a few days ago, he might never have set foot in Heaven Dou Royal Academy at all.

A standard homebody.

The corners of Chen Xin's mouth curved into a faint smile. His gaze settled lightly on Wriothesley as he said, "Your Grace, your martial soul carries the ice attribute and you excel at fist techniques. Then let us call you 'Frost Fist Douluo.' Simple and clear!"

As soon as this title came out, even the air seemed to turn a few degrees cooler, and the atmosphere among them immediately relaxed considerably.

In truth, Chen Xin had originally wanted to call him Ice Douluo outright. After all, although Spirit Hall had bestowed the title Jade Phosphor Douluo on Dugu Bo, Dugu Bo himself had directly used the characteristic of his own martial soul to take the title Poison Douluo.

The titles of Title Douluo were basically all related to their own martial souls.

Take Chen Xin, for example. His martial soul was the Seven Kill Sword, and he was praised as the foremost swordsman of Douluo Continent, so his title was Sword. As for Tang Chen, the first sect master of the Clear Sky Sect, he had made the name of the Clear Sky Hammer famous, so the words Clear Sky became the exclusive title of the Clear Sky Sect.

However, Wriothesley did not hesitate and directly agreed to Chen Xin's suggestion. In any case, a title was merely a form of address.

"Fine! Frost Fist Douluo it is!" Wriothesley agreed immediately. He had never cared much about this sort of thing anyway, so they could call him whatever they wanted.

And the most important point was that everyone in Heaven Dou City was already used to calling Wriothesley Duke. If they suddenly had to call Wriothesley something like "Your Majesty Frost Fist," they definitely would not be used to it.

Still, this title did match Wriothesley's traits.

His was an ice-element God's Eye, and he had spent more than ten years fighting underground matches in Meropide. He was also extremely skilled in fist techniques, so Frost Fist was quite fitting.

"Frost Fist Douluo. It sounds rather good," Ning Fengzhi praised.

"Duke, please instruct me!"

See? Although a title had been chosen, Chen Xin still subconsciously addressed Wriothesley as Duke.

And Wriothesley would not correct this form of address. Compared with the title "Frost Fist," he still preferred being called Duke.

"Let's begin. I'll give it my all." Wriothesley did not waste words and agreed directly.

Of course, as for what kind of "all" this "all" referred to, no one could say.