Fame

The middle-aged man swept his gaze over him. "Go to No. 3 Branch Soul Fighting Arena. Your opponent is already waiting there. Remember, the referee decides victory or defeat. Deliberate killing is forbidden, and you may not use anything other than your Martial Soul. Understand?"

"Understood."

"Go on."

The Branch Soul Arena was not large, a circular field roughly two hundred feet in diameter. Tiered stands surrounded it, capable of seating two to three hundred people.

At the moment, about half the seats were occupied. Most of the spectators were ordinary civilians with nothing better to do, though a few looked like Soul Masters.

A referee around fifty years old stood in the middle of the arena.

Zhou Qiubai's opponent was none other than that yellow-haired Liu San, who had already been waiting at one side of the field.

When Liu San saw Zhou Qiubai, the corners of his mouth curled up, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth as he sneered, "Well, kid, what a coincidence. Today, big brother will teach you that the Soul Fighting Arena isn't a place for children to play house."

Zhou Qiubai did not respond. He silently walked to the other side of the field and took his position.

The referee sized them up and, after confirming their identities, announced loudly, "Iron Soul Fighter match! No. 438 White-Clothed Guest versus No. 196 Fire Stick Liu! Both sides, prepare!"

A white and a yellow Soul Ring immediately lit up beneath Liu San's feet. A pitch-black wooden stick with a charred tip appeared in his hand. As he swung it a few times, the stick sliced through the air with shrill whistles.

Scattered boos rose from the stands.

"It's Liu San again. He always picks on newcomers. How boring."

"That kid looks pretty young. Can he handle it?"

"Probably not. Liu San's character may be awful, but he's still level twenty-five with two Soul Rings."

Zhou Qiubai drew the White Clothes Sword from his waist and let its blade hang at his side.

The referee glanced at it and froze for a moment. "Is that... a weapon or a Martial Soul?"

A Soul Fighting match was not a fight to the death. The only things allowed were Martial Souls and Soul Skills.

Whether they were Self-Created Soul Skills or Soul Skills granted by Soul Rings, only those two things could be used.

"Martial Soul," Zhou Qiubai answered.

"Martial Soul?" The referee frowned. "Are you sure? Why can't I sense any Soul Power fluctuations?"

"It's rather special." Zhou Qiubai smiled faintly.

The referee stepped forward and carefully examined the sword before reaching out to touch its blade.

The sensation beneath his fingers was as smooth and warm as jade, yet there was indeed a faint resonance of Soul Power.

He nodded. "It really is a Martial Soul. Though this form... never mind. Begin."

The referee retreated to the edge of the arena and raised his right hand. "Match—begin!"

Before his words had even faded, Liu San shot forward like an arrow.

His first Soul Ring lit up. With a whoosh, a ball of crimson flame ignited at the tip of the black wooden stick. Though the flame was small, its temperature was extremely high, warping the surrounding air with heat.

"First Soul Skill, Blazing Fire Stick!"

With a loud shout, Liu San swung the burning stick down at Zhou Qiubai's head.

A vicious grin spread across Liu San's face, as if he could already see his opponent's skull smashed open and blood pouring down.

Yet Zhou Qiubai did not dodge.

Just as the stick was about to fall, his wrist flicked slightly. The drooping White Clothes Sword rose like a nimble snake, its tip striking precisely against the middle of the stick.

Clang!

A crisp metallic ring echoed out.

Liu San felt a supple yet incomparably tenacious force travel from the sword tip. His full-force downward strike was forcibly deflected several inches, and the stick crashed heavily into the ground as it grazed Zhou Qiubai's shoulder.

Boom!

A small crater appeared in the ground.

Using the faint recoil, Zhou Qiubai drifted three feet to the left. The White Clothes Sword curled back with the motion, its blade winding toward Liu San's wrist like a ribbon.

Liu San was alarmed and hurriedly retreated. At once, his second Soul Ring lit up.

"Second Soul Skill, Fire Rain Splash!"

He violently shook the wooden stick, and the flame at its tip exploded into dozens of sparks that scattered in every direction.

The temperature of those sparks was just enough to burn exposed skin.

Zhou Qiubai frowned slightly. He was not afraid of them, but he found the sight rather messy.

An invisible force rippled outward from him. The instant every flying spark touched it, it was as though it had struck a flexible wall. Its speed dropped sharply, its trajectory shifted, and it finally fell weakly to the ground and went out.

Cries of surprise rang out from the stands.

"What Soul Skill was that?"

"I didn't see any Soul Ring light up!"

"Could it be a Self-Created Soul Skill?"

Liu San was stunned as well.

Although his Fire Rain Splash was not particularly powerful, it covered a wide area. Most two-ring Soul Masters would find it difficult to avoid completely.

Yet his opponent had not even moved and had blocked every single spark?

"You..." He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Zhou Qiubai gave him no chance.

The instant the last sparks fell, he moved like lightning.

The Floating Cloud Nine Palace Steps unfolded, and his entire body drifted toward Liu San like a wisp of green smoke.

It was not a direct charge, but an erratic, curved path. Every step landed in Liu San's blind spot.

Liu San only saw a blur before his opponent was already right in front of him.

He instinctively swung his stick in a horizontal sweep.

As though he had anticipated the move long ago, Zhou Qiubai shifted slightly and let the stick pass by.

At the same time, the White Clothes Sword lightly thrust forward, its tip targeting the web between Liu San's right thumb and forefinger where he gripped the stick.

Liu San tried to change moves, but it was already too late.

The sword tip struck the web of his hand. The blow was not heavy, but a sharp pain instantly shot through his entire arm.

His hand loosened, and the wooden stick flew from his grasp.

Then the blade curled around his wrist, and a supple force gave a sharp shake.

Crack!

His wrist dislocated.

Liu San screamed miserably, clutching his wrist as he staggered backward.

Zhou Qiubai did not pursue him. He calmly withdrew his sword and stood where he was.

The referee stared blankly for two seconds before finally reacting and shouting, "The victor has been decided! No. 438 White-Clothed Guest wins!"

The stands fell silent for an instant before erupting into enthusiastic applause and chatter.

"That's it? He won already?"

"That was way too fast! Three moves?"

"Those techniques... they're incredible!"

Liu San's face turned livid. He shot Zhou Qiubai a vicious glare, picked up his wooden stick, and slunk out of the arena while holding his wrist.

Zhou Qiubai went to collect his prize. The person inside handed him a small money pouch. "Ten gold. Your matches for today are over. If you want to keep fighting, come back tomorrow or form a team."

"Thank you."

Zhou Qiubai accepted the pouch and turned to leave.

As he walked out of the Branch Soul Arena, he heard several spectators talking behind him.

"Where did that kid come from? His swordsmanship is so unusual."

"To use a flexible sword like that, he must have had a master."

"Liu San really kicked an iron plate this time, haha!"

The corners of Zhou Qiubai's mouth lifted slightly. Ten gold coins was not much, but it was a good start.

Over the next few days, Zhou Qiubai came to the Soul Fighting Arena on time every day.

The Soul Fighting Arena did not mind if people formed pickup teams, but registering a pickup team also cost ten gold. Who was supposed to pay that?

Were they supposed to split it evenly?

Besides, pickup teams came with their own risks.

What if a teammate was bought off by the other side? What if the teammate threw the match?

He had also tried signing up alone for a one-versus-two match, but what could he do if they refused?

That said, his record at the Soul Fighting Arena was a string of victories.

On the second day, his opponent was a level twenty-eight defense-type Soul Master whose Martial Soul was the Iron Armor Shield.

On the third day, his opponent was a level twenty-six agility attack-type Soul Master whose Martial Soul was the Wind Wolf. He was extremely fast, but Zhou Qiubai's Floating Cloud Nine Palace Steps were even better.

The opponent's seventeen consecutive attacks all missed. In the end, Zhou Qiubai held a sword to his neck, forcing him to concede.

The fourth day, the fifth day...

Five consecutive victories.