He knew this feeling all too well. Every night, when he cultivated with Wang Dong through fusion, this was exactly what it felt like when their Soul Powers met.
But the fusion between the two before him was more direct, more violent.
Dai Huabin and Zhu Lu's figures blurred amid the light of their fusion.
Then a tiger's roar shook the entire arena.
The Hell White Tiger.
The White Tiger Duke Family's ancestral Martial Soul Fusion Skill was renowned throughout the Douluo Continent.
A giant white tiger's phantom leaped from the light. It was over five meters long, and dark markings unique to the Hell Spirit Cat rippled across its white fur. One of its eyes blazed with golden light; the other was dark as an abyss.
Below the platform, Zhou Yi's brows furrowed slightly. Her fingers unconsciously tapped the match schedule in her hand.
Mu Chen watched the enormous Hell White Tiger, his expression still calm.
He glanced at Wang Dong. She had already gotten to her feet, the damage to her left wing slowly healing under the nourishment of Soul Power. She was looking at him too, a glint of eagerness in her pink-blue eyes.
"Big brother," she said, "shall we do it too?"
Mu Chen shook his head.
It wasn't that he didn't want to. It just wasn't time yet. The thing behind that door was too powerful—so powerful that once they opened it, there would be no turning back.
Besides, he didn't want the first appearance of his and Wang Dong's Martial Soul Fusion Skill to be in a place like this, used against opponents like these.
They weren't worth it.
"Protect Yuhao," Mu Chen said. "I'll handle this alone."
Wang Dong froze for a moment, then smiled. There was understanding and trust in that smile, along with a pride she couldn't quite put into words—the pride of seeing her partner stand on his own before a crowd of thousands.
The Hell White Tiger attacked.
The giant white tiger phantom soared into the air and pounced at Mu Chen with the force of a mountain crashing down.
Its claws carved five dark blades of light through the air, each powerful enough to tear through tempered steel. Someone in the stands cried out in alarm, while others instinctively leaned back.
Mu Chen drew a deep breath.
The briny smell of the sea spread through the air. A faint sea mist seemed to envelop the entire platform.
The Trident spun once in his hand. Its blue-and-gold shaft refracted rippling light through the mist, as if the entire ocean had been captured within its three-foot blade.
Third Soul Skill, Deep Sea Storm.
He had used this Soul Skill in his match against Song Teng, but this time was different.
Three months of intense training and fusion cultivation had raised the purity of his Soul Power by a whole level. The same Soul Skill, wielded by him now, was incomparably more powerful than before.
Phantom waves surged from the Trident.
Not one wave, but three crashing layers.
The first struck head-on, colliding with the Hell White Tiger's claws and shattering all five blades of light.
The second tore in from the sides. Hidden currents pressed in from both directions, forcibly twisting the Hell White Tiger's airborne body at an angle.
The third surged upward from below, its hidden force striking the Hell White Tiger square in the abdomen. It was the weak point of all tiger-type Martial Souls, and also the point where Soul Power flowed most tenuously during Dai Huabin and Zhu Lu's fusion.
More deadly still was the mental disorientation that came with Deep Sea Storm.
Dai Huabin and Zhu Lu were both mentally strong, but a Martial Soul Fusion Skill placed an enormous strain on the mind to begin with. Their consciousnesses were already in a delicate balance while fused.
The mental assault of Deep Sea Storm was like a stone dropped onto the scales of that balance. A moment's wobble was enough to crack the entire fusion.
The Hell White Tiger let out a pained roar.
Two people's pain rang in that cry.
Then the giant white tiger phantom split down the middle.
It didn't slowly fade away. It was torn apart by force, and Dai Huabin and Zhu Lu shot out from the phantom, flying in opposite directions before crashing heavily onto the platform.
The pain of the fusion backlash left both of them as pale as paper. Zhu Lu passed out on the spot. Dai Huabin struggled to prop himself up with his tiger claws, then spat blood onto the bluestone platform.
Mu Chen landed on the platform and recalled the Trident into his body.
He walked toward Dai Huabin, neither hurrying nor slowing. Each step fell in time with the other boy's heartbeat.
Dai Huabin raised his head. There was no fear left in his sinister eyes, only a hollow bewilderment—the kind that came from being knocked from a proud peak into the dust in the span of a few moments.
Mu Chen stopped in front of him and looked down.
The entire arena fell silent.
Dai Huabin's lips trembled. He knew what awaited him: the wager, those three bows, in front of the whole academy. He wanted to say something, but all that came from his throat was a hoarse, resentful whimper.
"Mu Chen." Zhou Yi's voice suddenly rang out from below the platform.
Mu Chen turned his head.
Zhou Yi pushed up her glasses. Her gaze rested on him for two seconds, then shifted away. She said nothing more. It seemed she had called out only to check his condition, to make sure he wasn't hurt.
She had no intention of stopping him.
Mu Chen turned back to Dai Huabin.
"You don't have to kneel," he said calmly. "But in front of everyone, you have to say three things to Huo Yuhao."
Dai Huabin's lips twitched.
"First: Huo Yuhao isn't dead weight. Second: I'm the one who's ridiculous. Third: I'm sorry."
With every sentence Mu Chen spoke, Dai Huabin's face grew a shade paler.
Each of those three sentences cut deeper than a slap.
Admitting his mistake in public and apologizing to someone he had humiliated in front of everyone was harder for a noble-born young man to accept than kneeling and kowtowing.
But he had no choice.
Mu Chen's blue eyes rested on him. There was no anger or mockery in them, only calm patience.
Whether Dai Huabin kowtowed or not didn't matter to him. This way might feel more satisfying for Huo Yuhao, so he had made these demands instead.
Dai Huabin lowered his head.
"Huo Yuhao... isn't dead weight."
His voice was faint, but in the silent arena, where even a pin could be heard, everyone heard him.
Mu Chen stepped aside, clearing a path so Dai Huabin could see Huo Yuhao standing behind him.
Huo Yuhao's expression remained calm, but his fingertips trembled slightly. This time, it wasn't from resentment.
It was because someone was willing to go this far for him.
"I'm the one who's ridiculous." Dai Huabin's voice was even lower, as if he had to force the words out of his throat.
"I'm sorry."
After saying those three words, Dai Huabin clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
He abruptly raised his head. His golden eyes burned with emotions too complex to describe: humiliation, anger, resentment—but most of all, the helplessness of being utterly crushed.
Mu Chen nodded. He didn't say another word, just turned and walked over to Wang Dong and Huo Yuhao.
"Let's go," he said. "We're going to Snack Street."
Huo Yuhao looked at him, his lips moving. "Big brother Mu, you..."
"Don't get sentimental." Mu Chen patted him on the shoulder, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "Grilled fish is best eaten hot."
The three of them walked down from the platform. The crowd automatically made way for them.