White Colt Passing a Crack

The thick stench of blood filled the air around the tavern. Looking around, everything was in shambles. Many shattered corpses were casually discarded on the ground, and countless pools of blood had gathered in the low-lying areas, forming one crimson pool after another.

Hals stood beside a corpse, somewhat dazed. His hands were stained blood-red. Breathing in the bloody air, feeling the fullness in his stomach, his mind was a chaotic blur. It was a long while before reason and awareness finally returned to his body.

Gazing at the gruesome scene he had caused, Hals's expression darkened, and his hands trembled slightly. Without a word, he transformed into a wisp of black mist and departed.

Back in the basement, Hals silently closed the door. He walked quietly to a corner, sat down, propped his legs up, and rested his blood-crusted hands on his knees. Lowering his head, he seemed lost in thought.

For the first time in a long while, Hals felt a trace of fear and panic.

Not because of the killing. From the day he became a Soul Master and joined Spirit Hall, Hals had prepared himself for a life accompanied by slaughter. And that was exactly what he had done.

The nature of his spirit force forced Hals to walk further and further down the path of killing. The people of Spirit Hall only saw him as an unprecedented genius, his soul power advancing at a rate unmatched in history. But they didn't know that every achievement of Hals was built on an endless staircase of piled bones.

He wasn't afraid of killing. In his eyes, all living things were his prey. What he feared was never being able to stay by Bibi Dong's side again.

If he was going to keep treating souls as food, and even lose control and go berserk from time to time, Hals would never allow a bomb like himself, ready to explode at any moment, to remain near Bibi Dong. But...

"No..."

Hals's voice was low.

"I won't allow this to happen..." Hals clenched his fists, the Soul Flame flickering in his eyes. "I must find a way to improve..."

With resolve in his heart, Hals temporarily pushed the matter aside and focused solely on strengthening his power. He sat cross-legged, calmed his mind, and sensed a vast, chaotic mass of Soul Force mixed with many impurities.

He controlled this immense Soul Force, channeling it continuously into the Soul Flame. Amid a slight stinging sensation, a stream of Soul Force—much smaller but pure and condensed—flowed out from the flame. He absorbed it, strengthening his already formidable soul. At the same time, the mark of the Soul Flame on his body began to burn hot, drawing a small portion from that purified Soul Force to slowly reinforce his physical body...

The basement fell into silence once more.

"Bang"

Almost simultaneously, the sound of objects shattering rang out from the rooms of leaders across various factions.

"Bang"

A tall, thin man with a small beard around his chin slammed his fist onto the desk. His face was twisted with barely contained rage. Staring at the row of subordinates standing before him with heads bowed, his tone was icy:

"So, that bastard went berserk because a greedy little rat dared to sneak into the tavern, and he mistook him for one of our men, which triggered his killing intent. And because of that, one of our precious few Soul Kings was easily taken out?"

The subordinates dared not lift their heads. After a long pause, a burly man finally raised his head and stole a cautious glance at the man, replying, "That should be correct."

"Slap"

A crisp slap echoed. The burly man's left cheek visibly swelled red. Even after being struck, he still dared not make a sound, lowering his head to stare at the floor again.

The man was furious. His roar shook the entire organization's stronghold: "Should! Should! Should!!!"

"Are we, Greenwood, not one of the top powers in Nork Town? Is our control over Nork Town really this poor?"

"Huh? Tell me!"

No one answered.

The man breathed heavily for a moment, then silently sat back down in his chair. With a dark expression, he reached up and rubbed his furrowed brow.

After a moment, his voice came out, low and weary:

"Send word. Warn those rogue cultivators not to provoke that bastard. We still don't know his true strength. Clashing with him could cost us dearly."

"Yes," the subordinates answered in unison.

"Boss," the burly man spoke up again, "are we just going to let him off?"

"Let him off? Hmph!" The man gave a dark smile. "Impossible. Since he made a move on our people, he's our enemy. I won't let him go."

After thinking for a moment, the man added, "Keep watching him, but don't send our own people. Quietly put out a message—offer a high price for anyone willing to spy on him for us."

"There are always people who'll risk their lives for money, aren't there?"

"Yes, boss." The burly man bowed his head.

The man waved his hand, looking tired.

"Dismissed."

"Yes."

Staring at the now-empty room, the man said nothing, lost in thought.

Opening his eyes, Hals woke from sleep for the first time in a long while.

Yes. As his strength grew, the Soul Flame in his eyes no longer burned fiercely all the time. Instead, it had contracted and condensed, transforming into an icy-green eyeball that radiated both chill and firelight.

One year had passed...

Spirit Hall Forest

Bibi Dong's long lashes trembled slightly. A moment later, her eyes opened. Those clear, lake-like pupils seemed to speak on their own. She blinked, her gaze filled with joy.

She stood up, delightedly sensing her newly enhanced strength.

"Boom"

A sudden surge of overwhelming force erupted as seven soul rings—yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black, black—pulsed with immense pressure, slowly revolving behind Bibi Dong.

Seven rings!

Spirit Saint!

Feeling the surging power within her body, Bibi Dong couldn't help but think of the man who had unknowingly entered her heart, a trace of melancholy coloring her face.

The Martial Soul True Body Armor slowly dissipated, and Bibi Dong silently walked deeper into the forest...

"Hals... when will you come back..."

Star Luo Empire Royal Academy

Advanced Class Nine

A girl with bewitching, blood-red hair gazed at the horizon, lost in thought.

That was the direction her teacher had left.

Her delicate fists clenched tightly, her teeth biting her lower lip.

"Teacher, I've already reached Soul Ancestor. When will you come back?"

She stood frozen for a moment, then let out a soft sigh and turned to look at her neatly lined-up classmates. The melancholy mood from moments ago had vanished, replaced by a haughty, unapproachable queen standing before them.

Her pretty face lifted slightly, an expression of utter disdain on her features.

"Teacher isn't here. As the class monitor, I naturally have to take on the class monitor's responsibilities. Likewise, I won't allow anyone to tarnish Teacher's reputation. So, tomorrow's Class Competition—you all know what to do, right?"

No one spoke, but dense surges of blood energy slowly rose, soaring into the sky.

The setting sun fell, and the clouds were dyed a bloody red.

Sensing the sweet scent of blood in the air, a beautiful curve lifted the corner of Zhu Xiyan's lips...

Star Luo Empire Royal Academy

Administrative Building, Academic Affairs Office

"Sigh."

Yu Xiaoya sat at her desk, brows slightly furrowed, holding a file in her hand. Her mood was low.

"Sigh."

Another soft sigh. She casually tossed the file onto the desk, stood up, and walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window. Silently, she watched the setting sun staining half the sky red, as if longing for someone.

On the desk, a file titled "Advanced Class Nine Teacher Application" lay quietly, signed with the name: Yu Xiaoya...