Although he was only six and didn't understand some things, he still knew what "venting his fire" meant.
The guards in Frost Ridge City often chatted loudly and crudely. He'd picked up a thing or two just from being around them.
How did this blond guy seem even more practiced than an adult?
Luo Yun couldn't take it anymore.
He stepped forward twice, putting himself in front of Dai Mubai. Looking up at the blond boy, who was half a head taller than him, he tried to keep his tone polite. "Um... could you wait a little before talking about your business?"
Dai Mubai lowered his gaze to him.
Luo Yun's clothes really were in a sorry state.
He'd spent half a month rolling around in the Star Dou Great Forest, getting covered in mud, blood, and grass juice. Although Luo Shang had given him a quick cleanup before they left the forest, he still looked like a little beggar who'd crawled out of a garbage heap.
His little face was clean and fair, and his features were delicate, but paired with those ragged clothes, he gave off a strangely contradictory air.
Like a fallen young noble.
Dai Mubai's mouth curled. His gaze swept over Luo Yun from head to toe, the disdain in his eyes utterly undisguised.
"Well, where'd this little beggar come from?" His voice was just loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear. "You've even got money to stay here? You didn't steal it, did you?"
Luo Yun's brows furrowed even more.
He didn't go looking for trouble, but he wasn't afraid of it either!
Who'd ever dared call him a beggar before?
"Watch what you say." Luo Yun's voice turned cold.
Dai Mubai raised an eyebrow, leaned his face closer, and lowered his head to study Luo Yun's face carefully.
He grew even more annoyed.
The little beggar might be dressed in rags, but that face was genuinely pretty.
His features were delicate, his skin fair, his lashes long and curled, and his eyes as clear as water.
Dai Mubai suddenly felt irritated.
How could even a shabby beggar be better-looking than him?
Dai Mubai straightened up, his expression darkening. He turned to Ma Hongjun beside him, his tone shifting to one of blatant goading. "Fatty."
"Huh?" Ma Hongjun was so muddled by the Evil Fire burning through him that he answered in a daze.
"Can't you hold it back?" Dai Mubai jerked his chin toward Luo Yun, a cold smile on his lips.
"Perfect. Teach this little beggar a lesson and help you vent some of that fire."
Ma Hongjun looked at Luo Yun in a daze, then at Dai Mubai. His mouth opened, as if he were hesitating.
"Don't..." he muttered.
"Boss Dai, this doesn't seem right. He's still a kid..."
"You're a kid too?" Dai Mubai impatiently shoved him. "Hurry up. Quit dragging your feet!"
Ma Hongjun staggered from the shove and stopped in front of Luo Yun, his face flushed bright red and his gaze already beginning to glaze over.
Luo Shang frowned slightly. That chubby boy was clearly close to losing control.
Xiaoyun...
The other guests in the hall stood and backed away a few steps, but no one stepped in to stop them.
Watching a spectacle was human nature.
Luo Shang stood by the front desk, still holding the room key the receptionist had just handed him.
He didn't intervene.
His expression was calm, giving away nothing.
Then he casually found a sofa and lay down on it.
The receptionist was stunned. She opened her mouth to say something, but after looking at Luo Shang's utterly unruffled face, swallowed her words.
If even the boy's father was this calm, what business was it of hers to worry?
Luo Yun stood where he was, his right hand hanging at his side and slightly open. A wisp of faint purplish-black light seeped between his fingers.
The Moon Eclipse Sword.
The purplish-black blade slowly emerged from Luo Yun's palm, long and cold, its spine traced with the flowing pattern of a You purple moon.
Unlike the warm golden-green glow of the Sun Corona Sword, the moment the Moon Eclipse Sword appeared, the temperature in the entire hall dropped several degrees, and an indescribable pressure filled the air.
Too bad he didn't have a Soul Ring.
Not even one.
Dai Mubai froze for a moment, then burst out laughing.
He clutched his stomach and laughed so hard that tears nearly came to his eyes.
Pointing at the empty ground beneath Luo Yun's feet, he laughed loudly enough for the entire hall to hear.
"Hahahaha! A Soul Master who only awakened his powers a little while ago, without even a Soul Ring, dares to act this cocky?!"
"Fatty's already a level-twelve Soul Grandmaster."
"Little beggar, are you looking for a beating?"
The guests at the nearby tables joined in, laughter rising and falling, their mockery utterly undisguised.
A little brat without even a Soul Ring had picked up a sword that looked pretty intimidating and dared to challenge a Soul Master with one ring? What was that if not asking to die?
"I bet this little beggar doesn't even know what a Soul Skill is."
"Got guts, I'll give him that. Too bad he's not too bright."
"Just hope he doesn't cry when he gets burned."
Luo Yun paid no attention to the jeers around him.
His right hand gripped the Moon Eclipse Sword, its tip angled toward the ground as purplish-black light flowed over the blade.
His eyes held no unnecessary emotion.
He didn't look like a six-year-old at all.
Behind the counter, the receptionist watched Luo Yun standing alone in the center of the hall, surrounded by onlookers. His father was still lying motionless on the sofa. She was beside herself with worry.
She gritted her teeth, unable to hold back any longer, and hurried over to Luo Shang. Bending down, she lowered her voice.
"Sir, could you at least say something?" Her voice was thick with worry. "Those boys don't look like good people. The red-haired one already has a Soul Ring, while your son doesn't have one at all. He'll be at a disadvantage if they fight. Please stop them before he gets hurt."
Luo Shang lay on the sofa with his hands behind his head. He didn't even open his eyes.
"It'll be fine."
The receptionist thought she'd misheard him. "W-what?"
"I said it'll be fine." Luo Shang's tone was as calm as if he were commenting on the weather. "Let them fight."
The receptionist opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
She looked at Luo Shang's unruffled face, then at the little boy holding the sword in the middle of the hall. There were a thousand curses on the tip of her tongue, and she didn't know whether she should say them.
Was this man really the boy's father?
She drew a deep breath, sighed helplessly, and shook her head before returning behind the counter. She pressed her hands together before her chest, closed her eyes, and silently prayed.
Please don't let that child get beaten too badly.
Amen.
Ma Hongjun's breathing grew more and more labored. Heat rose from his face, and his eyes had turned red.
"I... I can't hold it in..."
"I'm sorry..."
Before the words had even left his mouth, a scorching flame burst from his body.
The phantom of a fiery red bird appeared behind him.
A yellow Soul Ring rose from beneath his feet and slowly revolved around his body.
A Hundred-Year Soul Ring.
The temperature in the hall suddenly soared. Waves of heat rushed over them, making everyone's faces burn.
The guests who'd been watching the spectacle hurriedly backed away several more steps. Some of the more timid ones had already run to the entrance, ready to bolt at any moment.
"First Soul Skill, Phoenix Fire Line!"
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