Alluring

Whoosh!

Feng Piaoling flashed forward, crossing more than ten meters to appear before Nanmen Yun'er. He thrust out two fingers like a sword, wrapped in an unmatched sharpness, and aimed them at Nanmen Yun'er's forehead.

Nanmen Yun'er's pupils widened. An unprecedented sense of mortal danger swept over her, and she instinctively closed her eyes.

Pfft!

A fierce gust swept over Nanmen Yun'er's head, sending her light green hair and white school uniform billowing upward.

The next moment, the death she had imagined never came. Feng Piaoling's fingers stopped half an inch from the space between her brows.

Her light green bangs and white hem slowly settled. Nanmen Yun'er opened her eyes and looked at Feng Piaoling's handsome face, so close to hers. Her heart raced wildly as she gave a bitter smile of relief. "I lost."

Feng Piaoling nodded, lowered his sword fingers, and turned to Ning Tian.

Ning Tian helped Wu Feng to her feet and gave a bitter smile as well. "I lost. I'll deliver the Soul Ascension Pill to you within a month. But I must warn you: a Soul Master can take only one Soul Ascension Pill in their lifetime. Taking a second will damage the foundation of their Soul Power."

What would refusing to admit defeat accomplish? Not only had she already used up most of her Soul Power, but even at full strength, three Battle Soul Masters had lost. What could she, an auxiliary Soul Master, do?

"I know." Feng Piaoling replied with three cool words, then turned his gaze to Mu Jin. "Teacher Mu, I'm going to train."

"Mm, go ahead. From now on, you only need to show up in class each morning. I won't interfere the rest of the time."

The more Mu Jin looked at this student, the more pleased he was with him. He was practically invincible at mid-to-long range, and his close-combat ability was absurdly strong.

Without using his Martial Soul, he had defeated three talented Soul Grandmasters by himself, even though they had the support of the Seven Treasures Glazed Pagoda.

He had control, and he had offense.

With strength like that, what was there to worry about?

He could just sit back and wait for a promotion.

He swept his gaze around the Soul Fighting Arena and addressed the Class Nine students. "Every class chooses its strongest student as class monitor. Tell me, who's your class monitor?"

"Feng Piaoling! Feng Piaoling! Feng Piaoling!" Wherever they went, people admired the strong. Before, it had mostly been the girls who supported Feng Piaoling.

Now, though, Feng Piaoling's strength had won over the boys, too.

He had truly earned the support of every student in Class Nine.

No wonder some factions don't want to send their best Soul Masters undercover. In this kind of atmosphere, if I weren't a transmigrator who knew what Shrek was really like, if I didn't have a blood feud, I might well have fit right in as one of the beneficiaries.

Feng Piaoling sighed inwardly, and his gaze quickly hardened again.

He didn't respond to anyone. Just as he was about to leave quietly for the Mimicry Training Ground, Zhu Lu called out to him. Her expression strained as she asked, "How exactly did you do that just now?"

By "how," she meant how Feng Piaoling had broken through her Hell Hundred Claws Soul Skill.

Hearing this, Nanmen Yun'er, whose second Soul Skill had also been broken, looked over curiously.

Ning Tian and Wu Feng, who had been knocked to the ground by Feng Piaoling and helped back up, were just as curious.

Perhaps because of her fire-attribute Martial Soul, she was a lesbian, and in some ways her personality resembled Huo Wu's from ten thousand years ago.

She was proud and competitive, found it hard to accept defeat, and would keep trying to get revenge on anyone who bested her until she won a round back. She was somewhat overbearing, quick-tempered, and hotheaded—fiery and domineering, but genuine at heart.

That was also why, after Feng Piaoling's second Soul Skill had buried her underground, she had stubbornly insisted on challenging him again.

But after Feng Piaoling beat her using only his physical skills, without even using his Martial Soul, the way she looked at him changed.

It was the look of the conquered admiring their conqueror. A faint glimmer seemed to have appeared in her eyes.

Feng Piaoling didn't turn around. With his back to Zhu Lu, he said, "It's simple. Your Soul Skill isn't perfect. That's all."

He was telling the truth. Zhu Lu's Hell Stab and Hell Hundred Claws were fixed Soul Skills refined over millions of years by the Zhu Clan of the Nether Duke Mansion in the Star Luo Empire.

Without a doubt, they were the best Soul Skills for the Nether Civet Martial Soul.

But they had plenty of flaws. To most people, those flaws wouldn't count as flaws at all. With the attacks coming so quickly, even Soul Masters of similar strength would struggle just to block them. Trying to find a weakness and strike back would be suicide.

But Feng Piaoling was different. His Spiritual Power was strong, and he had mastered the Heaven-Reaching Demon Eye. His senses were exceptionally keen. He had quickly discerned the pattern behind Hell Hundred Claws and, with lightning-fast reflexes, seized her wrists to settle the match in one move.

"Not perfect?" Zhu Lu murmured thoughtfully.

Feng Piaoling said, "When you use Hell Hundred Claws, your movements are too predictable. I just have to see through the pattern and grab both your hands. Then your Soul Skill falls apart."

Hearing that, Zhu Lu drew a sharp breath—not because she was shocked that Hell Hundred Claws had a weakness, but because she was stunned by how he had exploited it.

Hell Hundred Claws was incredibly fast. Even if it had a weakness, a Power Attack System Soul Master could only break through from the front with superior attack power, or a Control System Soul Master could counter it with control techniques.

But Feng Piaoling hadn't merely seen through the pattern of Hell Hundred Claws. He had stopped it by force with nothing but his bare hands.

Just how fast did he have to be? How much control would that take?

Losing to him really wasn't a disgrace.

Zhu Lu gave Feng Piaoling a long look, then shook her head. "I didn't lose because Hell Hundred Claws was too predictable. I lost to you."

She had known about Hell Hundred Claws' weakness for a long time. In fact, everyone in the Zhu Clan knew. But when the attacks were fast enough, that weakness ceased to be one.

Feng Piaoling said nothing. What she said was true. It didn't matter whether he saw through her movements. The key was whether he could land a hit. What use was recognizing the pattern if he couldn't hit her? And if he could land a hit, he didn't have to grab both her hands like he had. He could have seized her by the throat, instantly leaving her unable to move—or even killing her.

Feng Piaoling hadn't done it just to show off, either. Most of the time, he did it to train the Heaven-Reaching Demon Eye in real combat.

Before stepping down, Zhu Lu suddenly turned around. "Thank you for going easy on me."

Grabbing her arm was no different from breaking it. He had chosen the method that would hurt her the least. No, that move hadn't hurt her at all.

Feng Piaoling said coolly, "There's no need to thank me. Interrupting your Soul Skill was already the limit of what I could do."

"Is that so?" Zhu Lu's lips curled slightly. She was certain that even without using his Martial Soul, this was nowhere near his true strength. He was still holding back—and thought she hadn't noticed?