Facing this world-shattering strike, the Ghost Tiger finally sensed the threat of death.
It let out a terrified shriek and abruptly halted its pounce in midair.
A pitch-black energy shield, as though capable of devouring every ray of light, instantly took shape in front of it.
Nether Shield!
The most powerful defensive Soul Skill inherited through the Ghost Tiger clan's bloodline!
"BOOM—!!!"
The next instant, the golden beam and the black shield slammed into each other!
A ball of white light, millions of times brighter than the sun, erupted from the point of impact.
A terrifying shock wave formed a visible white wall of air, spreading madly in every direction!
The whole world seemed to be reduced to that pure white, that white which could destroy everything.
After an unknown length of time, the dazzling light finally began to fade, and the scene came back into view.
The once-dense forest had been reduced to a wrecked clearing.
The ground was riddled with craters and scorched marks. A massive pit, over a meter across, gaped in the earth, a shocking sight.
At the edge of the pit, the thousand-year-old Ghost Tiger lay on the ground, then slowly struggled back to its feet.
The Nether Shield in front of it had long since shattered. The purple-black fur on its chest had been burned away, exposing the charred flesh beneath.
Clearly, although its innate Soul Skill had kept it from being killed, it had suffered severe injuries in the process.
At the other end of the pit, Ye Feng knelt on one knee, his body swaying unsteadily.
His face was as pale as paper, without a trace of color.
The Soul Power in his body had been completely drained; he didn't even have the strength to remain standing.
A tearing pain pulsed through his meridians—the aftereffects of forcibly pushing his Soul Power past its limits.
He had lost.
He had managed to wound the Ghost Tiger, but he had also lost all ability to fight.
The Ghost Tiger fixed its blood-red eyes on Ye Feng, filled with boundless hatred and fury.
It began walking toward the helpless Ye Feng, one step at a time.
It would tear to pieces this weak human who had wounded it!
Ye Feng watched death draw closer and felt a bitter helplessness rise within him.
So this is where it ends?
He slowly closed his eyes, giving up all resistance as he prepared to face his final moments.
Just then, a soft sigh, tinged with lazy magnetism, rang without warning through the silent woods.
"Hmm. Not bad, kid. To create a Self-Created Soul Skill this powerful at such a young age—you've truly opened this old man's eyes!"
The voice was not loud, yet both Ye Feng and the Ghost Tiger heard it clearly.
Ye Feng opened his eyes.
The Ghost Tiger also stopped and warily looked toward the sky.
A tall, slender figure, bathed in a gentle golden radiance, was slowly descending from above.
It was a man, with brilliant golden hair falling loosely over his shoulders. He wore ornate golden armor, and his features were so exquisitely beautiful that it was hard to tell whether he was male or female.
He landed so lightly that he made no sound, like a feather without weight.
An indescribably terrifying pressure radiated from him.
Under that pressure, the thousand-year-old Ghost Tiger's ferocious aura was like a firefly beside the bright moon, laughably insignificant.
For the first time, the Ghost Tiger's savage eyes showed fear. Its fur stood on end, and a low whimper rumbled in its throat as it backed away again and again.
The golden-haired man didn't even glance at it, as though the thousand-year-old Ghost Tiger couldn't interest him in the slightest.
The Ghost Tiger seemed to feel even more insulted and threatened by this disregard. It growled and turned to flee.
"Hmm?"
He casually raised his right hand and, from dozens of meters away, lightly swatted the air in the direction the Ghost Tiger was running.
The gesture was so carefree, as if he were shooing away an irritating fly.
Yet a terrifying, invisible force that nothing could resist descended in an instant!
"Bam!"
The enormous, powerfully built thousand-year-old Ghost Tiger couldn't even cry out. Its whole body was struck as if by a hammer weighing ten thousand jun, and it was sent flying more than ten meters. It smashed through several trees along the way before crashing heavily to the ground. It twitched twice, then seemed to pass out.
Ye Feng sat collapsed on the ground, staring at the scene in stunned disbelief.
That casual swat, and the thousand-year-old Ghost Tiger's complete inability to fight back—both were far beyond his understanding of power.
A Titled Douluo!
Only the legendary Titled Douluos, who stood at the summit of the Soul Master World, possessed the terrifying strength to treat thousand-year-old Soul Beasts like ants!
Ye Feng knew exactly who this man was.
That exquisitely beautiful, almost bewitching face...
That aura, bathed in holy light yet tinged with a hint of femininity...
And that impossibly flamboyant air, as if he were afraid no one would realize how powerful he was...
There was no one else who could be one of Spirit Hall's two great figureheads: the level ninety-five Super Douluo with the title "Chrysanthemum," Yue Guan!
Shock surged through Ye Feng's heart, and countless thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant.
Why was he here?
And why had he happened to save me?
This wasn't the villain from the original story who'd shouted threats at the protagonist's group. This was a truly terrifying being who had saved his life.
That debt of gratitude was real.
Ye Feng didn't dare think too deeply about it. He only knew that he was now an ant being watched by a colossal beast, and a single wrong move could leave him crushed to pieces.
The instinct to survive overpowered everything. He clenched his teeth, forcibly suppressing the agony churning through his body, and used the last of his strength to stagger upright from the dusty ground.
Every cell in his body was howling, but he had to stand.
It was a sign of respect for the strong.
He bowed deeply toward the magnificent figure and strained to make his words clear and sincere.
"Thank you, senior, for saving my life. I will never forget this kindness!"
Yue Guan finally lowered his long, narrow eyes from the sky to Ye Feng.
He didn't respond to the thanks, as though saving someone were a trivial matter.
His figure blurred, and in the next instant he appeared before Ye Feng like a ghost, less than half a meter away.
A strange fragrance drifted over him—the crisp, clean scent of chrysanthemums.
Yue Guan extended his long, pale fingers and, heedless of the blood and dirt on Ye Feng, gently squeezed his arm and shoulder.
"Hmm. Not bad."
He murmured to himself, his magnetic voice tinged with lazy satisfaction.
"At ten years old, you've not only reached the twentieth level and become a Soul Grandmaster, but your physical strength is far beyond your peers. On top of that, you possess a Self-Created Soul Skill of such astonishing power... Your talent and temperament are both first-rate."
Yue Guan lowered his hand, an intrigued, playful smile appearing on his handsome face.
"Kid, would you be interested in joining our Spirit Hall?"
Here it comes!
Ye Feng's heart gave a thump, and every muscle in his body tensed.
The thing he'd feared most had happened after all.
This question was practically a death sentence.
Before you continue