Promotion to Soul Douluo

Hals followed the faint, instinctive pull and slowly stepped forward.

Boom

A deafening, muffled roar seemed to crash through heaven and earth, yet at the same time, no sound at all appeared to have been made.

The sky seemed to suddenly darken.

The hundred-thousand-year soul ring behind Hals flickered with a bloody, ominous light, but in an instant, it dimmed again. A black mist, filled with an indescribable aura, quietly emerged from the surface of Hals's body, corrupting the surrounding atmosphere.

Though it was black mist, it flowed like water, slowly sinking toward the ground. Upon touching the snow, it spread outward in a gradual crawl.

The snowfield where the black mist passed seemed tainted, taking on a deathly black hue.

Because Hals had used only a small amount of Soul Power, the black mist spread no more than a hundred meters in radius before dissipating entirely.

However, it was worth noting that even after the mist vanished, the ground it had touched remained black, exuding an aura of utter stillness.

"I see..."

Hals's voice was hoarse and low, but the violently leaping flames in his eye sockets betrayed his inner turmoil.

"The Lost Land... Only the dead and souls can survive there. Living beings will have their strength suppressed within it, while the dead and souls will be amplified... Not bad, heh heh."

"And..." Hals muttered to himself, staring at the blackened ground that showed no sign of fading even after a long while, "Is its duration permanent, or does it simply vanish extremely slowly?"

"If that's the case, it can make up for the insufficient strength and poor sustainability of the souls in my lantern. Pity that this soul ring provides little enhancement to my own body—almost none at all."

"No," Hals suddenly thought, "Does my Martial Soul True Body count as a soul state or not? If it does, then my combat power would receive a massive boost."

"Forget it, I won't dwell on it." The soul ring behind him vanished, and the flames on his body gradually extinguished. He cast one last glance at the fallen Dew-Condensing Ice Toad and the Realm of the Dead before turning to leave. "I've been out too long; my master will worry..."

Snow began to fall again, and in less than a moment, the snowfield bore no trace that Hals had ever been there.

Niya was the standout among the Martial Soul Hall's latest Golden Generation. Countless people believed she had the potential to claim the coveted seat of Holy Maiden, and many secretly urged Niya to strike at Bibi Dong, drag her down, and take her place.

In such an environment, Niya had gradually transformed from the hardworking, humble little girl she once was into the sharp-tongued, profit-driven, and fiercely jealous person she had become.

Niya reveled in the flattery of her many subordinates and some reserve elders. Though they were only reserves, rounding up, weren't they still elders?

But recently, Niya had been having a rough time. Her subordinates began paying lip service, and when she sought help from those reserve elders, they would agree to her face only to forget it immediately. Some even outright refused to see her.

At first, Niya was furious. She had smashed countless things in her bedroom. But after a week of this, panic finally set in. So she gathered many precious supplements and rushed to the home of an elder she had a decent relationship with.

"Who?" A sharp voice came from inside the room.

"It's me, Elder Yan Yu. Niya." Niya lowered her head, looking haggard, and raised a hand to briefly tidy her messy hair so she wouldn't appear too disheveled.

Creak. The door opened a crack. A middle-aged man peered through the gap, scanned the surroundings, and yanked Niya inside.

"Damn it, why are you here?" Elder Yan Yu's face was full of irritation. He tugged anxiously at his sparse beard, glaring angrily at Niya.

Niya was slightly taken aback by Elder Yan Yu's expression, but she didn't think much of it. Instead, she began pouring out her grievances to him, her voice full of wronged resentment.

"Wait, wait." Yan Yu cut off her tearful complaints with an angry expression. "You're saying you went knocking on their doors, and they wouldn't even open up to see you?"

Niya's mouth hung open in shock. "Y-yes."

Slap.

Elder Yan Yu slammed the table hard. "They're dead! Damn it, they're dead!!!"

"Wait, dead?!" Niya looked utterly incredulous.

"Yes, all because of you! Because of you!!"

"No, no, Elder Yan Yu, you must be mistaken." Niya forced a smile as she looked at him.

"No, no, I'm not mistaken. It's because of you." Yan Yu angrily jabbed a finger toward Niya. "You—did you or did you not scheme with them to force the Holy Maiden from her position?!"

"Yes, I did. So what?" Niya shrank her neck, sensing something was wrong.

"Yes, they're dead. Because they plotted with you to harm the Holy Maiden, her dog, Hals, killed them. No one knows how they died. They never even left the Martial Soul Hall."

"That's impossible. I—I've heard of Hals, but isn't he just a Soul Emperor? How could he be that strong? Could he kill a Spirit Saint?"

"Strong? Just strong?" Yan Yu withdrew his finger and slumped into a chair. "He was already a Spirit Saint by then. But he killed three Spirit Saints and an eighty-fifth-level Soul Douluo—without a sound! And he was only twenty-one. Do you understand? A twenty-one-year-old Spirit Saint. As long as nothing goes wrong, he'll definitely become a Titled Douluo, and he might even have a shot at that legendary realm—the Limit Douluo."

Niya was speechless. With an enemy this powerful, what could she do?

Damn it. Why was this happening? Why did she have such a strong servant? Why didn't I? Damn it, damn it, damn it!

"But that's not the scariest part. The scariest part is that when the deaths of those four soul masters came to light, someone suspected Hals. But when that person went to the Pope, His Holiness said nothing, gave no indication at all. He just casually waved his hand and sent the man away."

Niya's body trembled involuntarily. It was the ultimate expression of fear.

"What do we do, Elder? What do we do?" Niya muttered, her eyes vacant.

Yan Yu didn't answer. He just lowered his head in thought.

After a long while, Yan Yu finally looked up and spoke harshly. "Strike first! Once you become the Holy Maiden, you'll be the Martial Soul Hall's top training priority. Then, naturally, a Titled Douluo-level powerhouse will handle this problem for you."

"Strike first, huh..." A hint of resentment flashed in Niya's eyes. "Then let's see who truly deserves to be the Holy Maiden."