Team Selection Match, Battle Against Yan

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

The Grand Martial Arena at the center of Martial Soul Hall Academy was packed to the brim today.

The selection for members of the Martial Soul Hall team had begun, and every student was going wild for that supreme spot on the roster.

For the sake of fairness, every student in the school was allowed to sign up!

While the selections in previous years had been intense, none had attracted as much attention as this year's.

This was because the entire upper echelon of Martial Soul Hall, including several reclusive Red-Robed Bishops, had made low-profile appearances and taken their seats in the high-tier VIP section.

Most of them had come for the boy who had recently become the talk of Martial Soul City—Su Ming.

"Round one, match eight, Su Ming versus Li Meng!"

Following the referee's loud announcement, Su Ming, clad in black robes, stepped onto the ring with a cold expression.

His first opponent was a level 46 assault-type elite Soul Ancestor.

However, from the very beginning, this match lacked any suspense.

Su Ming did not even need to use his highly anticipated fourth soul ring; he suppressed the opponent's martial soul simply with the attribute pressure emanating from his own Evil Phoenix.

Then, the second soul ring beneath his feet flickered, and with a casual blast of a black Evil Fire Meteor, he swept the opponent off the ring as easily as autumn winds scattering fallen leaves.

His sleeves remained unsoiled, his expression unchanged.

In the following warm-up rounds, Su Ming swept through them all with this same minimalist, violent style, easily disposing of the cannon-fodder opponents blocking his path and successfully advancing to the competition for the core spots.

The high-ranking officials of Martial Soul Hall nodded repeatedly, their eyes filled with amazement.

Among the Golden Generation watching from below, Yan's expression grew increasingly heavy, while the eyes of Hu Liena shimmered with brilliant light.

Yan clenched his fists tightly, his face looking grave to the extreme.

This guy, in just a few days, has actually become this strong!

"Next duel, Su Ming, versus—Yan!"

When these two names flashed across the massive Soul Tool screen, a thunderous roar of cheers instantly erupted throughout the arena.

A level 44 assault-type Soul Ancestor versus a twelve-year-old monster Soul Ancestor with a ten-thousand-year fourth ring!

Yan took a deep breath and strode onto the ring.

Originally, he would have been one hundred percent confident in handling Su Ming!

But after Xie Yue told him about Su Ming's shocking combat record three days ago, and having just witnessed Su Ming's performance, Yan knew that he was likely no match for this monster.

However, as the pride of Martial Soul Hall's Golden Generation, and as a man deeply in love with Hu Liena, he would never allow himself to retreat without a fight!

Even if I'm destined to lose today, I will definitely bite a piece of flesh off you, monster!

I'll let you know that I, Yan, am not so easily bullied!

Yan roared frantically in his heart.

The two stood firm in the center of the ring.

As the referee announced the start, Yan's Soul Power surged wildly like a volcano.

"ROAR—!!"

Accompanied by an angry shout, Yan's arms instantly expanded, and large patches of dark red granite armor bulged across his skin, with scorching magma flowing violently through the cracks in the rocks. His martial soul, Flame Lord, had possessed him!

"Su Ming!"

Stepping on the ground, which had been scorched pitch-black by the high heat, Yan roared at Su Ming, "Today, I'll show you what I'm made of!"

Facing the ferocious Yan before him, Su Ming's expression remained as calm as a pool of stagnant water.

He didn't even bother to respond with a single word; he simply stepped forward in silence.

BOOM!

A pitch-black phantom of an Evil Phoenix, exuding an aura of endless destruction and annihilation, unfurled its wings behind Su Ming, tearing through the air.

Following that, yellow, yellow, deep purple... and that pure black ten-thousand-year fourth soul ring, black enough to be suffocating and heavy enough to make one unable to breathe, slowly rose beneath Su Ming's feet.

Seeing that ten-thousand-year fourth ring, even though he had mentally prepared himself, Yan's heart still twitched violently.

Su Ming lifted his eyelids coldly, and the ten-thousand-year fourth soul ring beneath his feet lit up.

"Fourth Soul Skill: Nine-Nether Resentful Phoenix Cry!"

"SCREECH—!!"

A spiteful phoenix cry that seemed capable of tearing the soul apart instantly echoed throughout the entire Grand Martial Arena.

Black, eerie ripples of law swept across like a tsunami.

Yan, who was exerting all his effort into defense, turned deathly pale in that split second.

HUM!

Under the shocked gazes of everyone present, the first four soul rings beneath Yan's feet instantly turned a lifeless, deep gray and extinguished completely.

But it wasn't over yet!

Immediately following this, the granite lava armor he had maintained through his soul skill melted away instantly, like snow under a scorching sun, disintegrating in large patches and turning into clouds of ash that scattered with the wind!

Forced stripping!

At this moment, Yan was completely devoid of any defense, standing like an ordinary person stripped of his clothes, wide open and exposed before Su Ming.

"No... this is impossible!" Yan's eyes bulged, finally revealing a look of pure despair.

In this instant, he finally understood what kind of dimensional strike the Soul Kings in the Great Soul Arena had truly experienced.

This was not a battle at all; it was an unreasonable erasure by the rules!

The obsession he held to teach Su Ming a lesson was, at this moment, shattered beyond recognition.

Three seconds was enough for the Grim Reaper to descend countless times.

Su Ming's icy eyes remained devoid of any ripple. "Third Soul Skill, Evil Phoenix God-Slaying Slash!"

Whoosh!

A black streak of light tore through the void, carrying a piercing, shrill shriek as it slammed directly into Yan's defenseless chest.

BOOM--!!

A dull, thunderous roar exploded in the center of the arena.

Violent flames instantly swallowed Yan's body.

Unable to hold on for even a single second, Yan let out a shrill scream, his body flying backward like a cannonball for hundreds of meters.

Thud!

Dust billowed into the sky.

One move, one-hit kill.

The entire Grand Martial Arena fell into a deathly silence.

The Red-Robed Bishops on the high platform were so shocked they stood up directly from their seats.

Who could have imagined that Yan, powerful as the Golden Generation, would be no different from the ordinary students before Su Ming—still a one-hit kill!

"Cough... cough, ugh!"

In the ruins far away, the dust gradually settled.

Covered in blood, Yan crawled out from the rubble in a wretched state.

Su Ming had shown mercy; otherwise, having taken that strike without any Soul Power defense, he would already be a dead man.

Yet even so, his chest was a bloody mess, and the corrosive, extreme evil pain continuously stimulated his nerves.

However, the physical agony was nothing compared to the devastating blow his heart had suffered.

Yan sat dejectedly in the ruins, looking at his own slightly trembling, blood-stained hands.

He had originally thought that even if he lost, he could still show the backbone of the Golden Generation, display his indomitable masculinity before Hu Liena, and at least cause some trouble for Su Ming.

But reality hit him like a loud, stinging slap to the face.

The gap was too vast...

So vast that he didn't even have the qualifications to touch the hem of his opponent's robe!