When the Sky Screen lit up again, it showed a massive oval-shaped building.
Suotuo City Great Soul Arena.
The night wind swept down from above the stands, making the words on the Soul Tool Screen gleam faintly. The camera turned quickly before finally settling on the registration counter. A young man stood before it, dressed in an utterly ordinary dark outfit, his back straight. His voice was not loud as he gave a single report.
"Su Mo, nineteen years old, Rank 78 Soul Saint."
With just that sentence, it was as though someone had pinned down the spine of the Original-Work World.
"How much?" Ma Hongjun sprang straight up from the ground, his eyes nearly falling out. "Rank seventy-eight? Nineteen years old? Who's he trying to fool?!"
No one answered him.
On the Sky Screen, Su Mo had already released his Martial Soul.
Seven Soul Rings lit up around him one after another.
Everyone saw them clearly.
The first ring was yellow.
Starting from the second ring, every one of them was black.
There was no purple, no white. His Second Soul Ring was already ten thousand years old.
"How is that possible..." Yu Xiaogang blurted out.
He took half a step forward, his eyes fixed tightly upon the seven Soul Rings on the Sky Screen. He had even forgotten to breathe.
He studied theory. More than anyone, he understood that there was a limit to absorbing Soul Rings. A Rank 20 Soul Grandmaster could absorb, at most, a Hundred-Year Soul Ring.
A Ten-Thousand-Year Soul Ring as the second ring could no longer be called talent.
It was trampling the ironclad laws of the entire Soul Master system into pieces.
"Teacher, is that really a Ten-Thousand-Year Soul Ring?" Tang San asked. His voice remained fairly steady, but the hand hidden