Yan Shaozhe even wanted to slap Dai Yueheng straight off the stage.
He turned to look at Huo Yuhao.
Huo Yuhao stood where he was, even leisurely straightening his cuffs, treating Dai Yueheng across from him as if he were nothing.
"Yuhao, are you sure you want to fight?"
Yan Shaozhe approached in a lowered voice.
"There has to be a limit to this nonsense. He's a Soul Emperor."
Huo Yuhao raised his head.
"Don't worry, Senior Brother."
"Since it's a personal grudge, we'll settle it clearly on the stage. That way, no one will keep dwelling on it later."
Yan Shaozhe stared at him for a while.
He knew Huo Yuhao had always been at odds with the White Tiger faction, but he had not expected it to have reached this point.
But his junior brother had never done anything without being certain of it.
Since he dared to accept, he definitely had a trump card up his sleeve.
Still, Yan Shaozhe felt a toothache. This was his teacher's precious treasure—if anything really happened to him on the stage, how was he supposed to explain it when he went back?
Xian Lin'er jumped down from the elevated platform.
She walked over to Yan Shaozhe and impatiently waved her hand.
"Enough. The papers have been signed, so stop dithering."
"Shaozhe, step back."
But after turning around, she quietly added in a low voice.
"Watch carefully and see what happens once they start fighting."
Yan Shaozhe shot her a glare and could only retreat to the edge of the arena with a dark expression.
Only Dai Yueheng and Huo Yuhao remained on the Soul Fighting Arena.
There was no referee.
Life and death were their own responsibility.
Dai Yueheng looked at Huo Yuhao before him, his eyes filled with undisguised mockery.