A Desperate Turn, Chrysanthemum Douluo's Recruitment

Facing this world-shattering strike, the Ghost Tiger finally sensed a lethal threat.

It let out a terrified shriek, forcibly halting its pounce mid-air.

A pitch-black energy shield, as dark as ink and seemingly capable of swallowing all light, instantly condensed before it.

Nether Shield!

The most powerful defensive soul skill in the bloodline inheritance of the Ghost Tiger clan!

"BOOM--!!!"

The next instant, the golden beam of light and the black shield collided violently!

Immediately following, a white light, ten thousand times more dazzling than the sun, erupted from the point of impact!

The terrifying energy shockwave formed a visible white air current, spreading crazily in all directions!

The entire world seemed to be left with nothing but that pure, destructive white!

I do not know how much time passed, but when the blinding white light finally faded, the scene on the field was revealed once more.

The once dense forest had been transformed into a desolate, ruined clearing.

The ground was pitted and scarred, covered in charred marks, and a massive crater with a diameter of over a meter appeared, shocking to behold.

At the edge of the crater, the thousand-year Ghost Tiger was struggling to stand up from the ground.

The Nether Shield before it had long since shattered, and the purple-black fur on its chest had been burned away completely, revealing the charred flesh beneath.

Clearly, although it had managed to block the lethal strike with its innate soul skill, it had suffered heavy injuries as a result.

At the other end of the crater, Ye Feng knelt on one knee, his body swaying unsteadily.

His face was as pale as paper, devoid of any color.

The soul power within his body had been completely drained, leaving him without even the strength to stand.

Waves of tearing pain surged through his meridians—the aftereffects of forcibly overdrawing his soul power.

He had lost.

Although he had managed to inflict a minor injury on the Ghost Tiger, he had completely exhausted his own combat capability.

The Ghost Tiger's blood-red eyes stared fixedly at Ye Feng, filled with endless resentment and fury.

It walked slowly, step by step, toward the immobilized Ye Feng.

It wanted to tear this weak human who had dared to injure it into pieces!

Watching the approach of death, a sense of helpless bitterness welled up in Ye Feng's heart.

In the end, was this as far as he would go?

He slowly closed his eyes, abandoning all resistance, and prepared to meet his final end.

Just then, a sigh, tinged with a hint of laziness and a strange magnetism, rang out in the silent forest without warning.

"Hmm, kid, you've done quite well. To be able to create such a powerful Self-Created Soul Skill at such a young age, you truly have opened this old man's eyes!"

The voice was not loud, yet it clearly reached the ears of both Ye Feng and the Ghost Tiger.

Ye Feng opened his eyes.

The Ghost Tiger also stopped in its tracks, looking toward the sky with vigilance.

A slender figure, bathed in soft golden radiance, was seen drifting slowly down from the high sky.

It was a man with long, brilliant golden hair draped casually behind his shoulders, dressed in magnificent golden armor, his face so exquisitely beautiful that it was difficult to distinguish his gender.

He landed with such grace that he didn't make a sound, as if he were a weightless feather.

An indescribable, terrifying pressure radiated from his body.

In the face of this pressure, the fierce aura of the thousand-year Ghost Tiger was like a firefly before the bright moon—ridiculously insignificant.

For the first time, the Ghost Tiger's violent beastly eyes showed an emotion called "fear." Its fur stood on end, and it let out a low whimper from its throat, retreating repeatedly.

The golden-haired man did not even glance at it, seemingly having no interest in the thousand-year Ghost Tiger whatsoever.

The Ghost Tiger seemed to feel an even greater insult and threat from this indifference; it let out a low growl and turned to flee.

"Hmm?"

He casually raised his right hand and, from a distance of several dozen meters, gave a light, airy swat in the direction of the fleeing Ghost Tiger.

The movement was as effortless as shooing away an annoying fly.

Yet, an invisible, irresistible, and terrifying force descended instantly!

"Bang!"

The massive, physically formidable thousand-year Ghost Tiger could not even let out a scream; its entire body was struck as if by a ten-thousand-pound hammer, sent flying over ten meters, snapping several large trees along the way before crashing heavily to the ground, where it twitched twice and appeared to fall unconscious.

Ye Feng sat slumped on the ground, staring at this scene in a daze.

The effortlessness of that casual swat, the total defeat of the thousand-year Ghost Tiger without any ability to resist—all of it far exceeded his current understanding of power.

A Title Douluo!

Only the legendary Titled Douluo, who stood at the pinnacle of the Soul Master world, possessed the terrifying power to treat thousand-year soul beasts as ants!

Ye Feng was all too familiar with the person before him.

This handsome, almost demonic face...

This aura, bathed in holy light yet tinged with a hint of femininity...

And this ostentatious demeanor, as if afraid others wouldn't know how awesome he was...

Besides Yue Guan, the ninety-fifth level Super Douluo titled "Chrysanthemum," one of the Martial Soul Hall's two most prominent figures, there was no one else!

A tempest raged in his heart, countless thoughts flashing by in an instant.

How could he be here?

And coincidentally save him?

This wasn't the villain from the original work who was bent on hunting the protagonist group, but a terrifying existence who had genuinely saved his life.

This debt of gratitude was real.

Ye Feng dared not think too deeply, only knowing that he was now an ant being watched by a behemoth, and any wrong move could lead to utter destruction.

The instinct for survival overwhelmed everything else. Gritting his teeth, he forcibly suppressed the churning pain within his body and, using the last shred of his strength, shakily struggled to his feet from the dusty ground.

Every cell in his body cried out, but he had to stand.

This was respect for the strong.

He bowed deeply towards the magnificent figure, mustering all his strength to make his words clear and sincere.

"Thank you for your rescue, Senior. This junior will surely remember it!"

Yue Guan's narrow, elongated eyes finally retracted from the sky and fell upon Ye Feng.

There was no response to the thanks, as if saving someone was a trivial matter.

His figure flickered, and the next moment, he appeared before Ye Feng like a ghost, less than half a meter apart.

A strange fragrance wafted over, the crisp scent of chrysanthemums.

Yue Guan extended his slender, fair fingers, ignoring the blood and dirt on Ye Feng, and gently squeezed his arm and shoulder.

"Hmm, not bad."

He murmured to himself, his magnetic voice carrying a hint of lazy satisfaction.

"At the age of ten, not only have you cultivated to level twenty as a Soul Grand Master, but your physical strength far surpasses your peers, and you even possess such a shockingly powerful Self-Created Soul Skill... Your talent and disposition are both top-tier."

Yue Guan's fingers stopped, and a playful, intrigued expression appeared on his handsome face.

"Kid, are you interested in joining our Martial Soul Hall?"

Here it comes!

Ye Feng's heart skipped a beat, and his muscles instantly tensed.

The thing he feared most had happened.

This question was practically a death sentence.