As the morning mist in the secluded valley dissipated, the lingering bloody, baleful aura among the mountains and forests slowly settled.
Tang San stood atop a pile of jagged rocks, reining in the black, tyrannical Asura Soul Power surrounding him.
After an entire night of self-destructive, hellish training, he had crossed two minor realm barriers and firmly established himself at level 43 as a Power Attack Soul Ancestor. The meridians within him had been widened and reforged, while his flesh, blood, sinews, and bones had grown even tougher. The killing aura of the Asura origin had withdrawn deep into his heart, leaving behind only an unfathomably profound and steady foundation.
There was no system data, no precise cultivation panel—only a soul master's most instinctive perception of power.
He could clearly sense that he had been reborn, that his strength had soared, yet he could not probe Lin Chen's true level in the slightest.
Whenever he tested with his Soul Power or extended his spiritual sense toward Shrek Academy, that entire area felt like a stone sinking into the sea. Lin Chen's aura was gentle and vast, calm and unruffled. It appeared peaceful, yet it completely obscured all attempts at detection. Tang San could not tell whether Lin Chen was a level-70 Soul Saint—or at an even higher realm.
"He merely stumbled upon some fortuitous opportunity. His strength is hollow and without foundation."
Obsession and stubbornness churned in Tang San's eyes as he silently convinced himself.
In his eyes, Lin Chen had never endured even the slightest life-and-death trial. He had advanced comfortably every step of the way, so no matter how strong he was, it would only be a fleeting bloom. Every level of Tang San's cultivation, however, had been forged through flesh and blood—true foundations. Given time, he would