That Kid Zhao Linchuan is Too Wicked, Gains Outside the Arena.

Off to the side, Ning Fengzhi watched this scene, a glimmer of sharp insight flashing through his eyes.

He stepped half a pace forward, his tone respectful yet probing: "Your Excellency the Pope, what is the background of the woman who just clashed with Tang Xiao?"

"How exactly did she achieve that soul ring configuration?"

Qian Xunji turned his head and glanced at Ning Fengzhi.

"Heh." He chuckled softly, withdrew his gaze, and looked back down at the arena below, his tone indifferent. "I have nothing to say on that matter."

"If Sect Master Ning were willing to share your Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's Distraction Control Technique with me, I might..."

"Fengzhi spoke out of turn."

Ning Fengzhi hurriedly cut in, interrupting Qian Xunji.

"However, if this method could be made public, it might just raise the standard of soul masters across the entire Douluo Continent."

"Heh." Qian Xunji said without turning his head, "The Distraction Control Technique is the same..."

On the other side, at Zhao Linchuan's location.

It had to be said, this brat Zhao Linchuan was truly wicked.

After defeating a disciple of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Sect, he did not choose to hold the arena himself; instead, he beckoned a Spirit Hall soul master to go up and hold it for him.

As for Zhao Linchuan himself, he carried the Supreme Ease Golden Edge and charged toward the arena held by another Blue Lightning Tyrant Sect disciple.

That Blue Lightning Tyrant Sect disciple had just defeated a challenger and was standing at the edge of the arena, panting as he recovered his stamina.

Seeing Zhao Linchuan approach, his expression turned more bitter than a bitter gourd.

He had seen the scene where Zhao Linchuan defeated his clansman with a single sword strike clearly; that golden sword light had been so fast that even its shadow was impossible to track. His clansman hadn't even had the chance to manifest his soul rings before Zhao Linchuan had his sword pointed at his throat.

"I concede." He jumped off the arena quite decisively, without a moment's hesitation.

Seeing this, Zhao Linchuan smiled, stood on the arena without standing on ceremony, and beckoned again. Another Spirit Hall soul master came running over eagerly to take his place.

Just like that, Zhao Linchuan, by his own strength, forcibly seized four arenas.

The first, taken from a Blue Lightning Tyrant Sect disciple, was handed to Spirit Hall soul master A.

The second, taken from another Blue Lightning Tyrant Sect disciple, was handed to Spirit Hall soul master B.

The third, taken from a Clear Sky Sect disciple, was handed to Spirit Hall soul master C.

The fourth, taken from yet another Clear Sky Sect disciple, was handed to Spirit Hall soul master D.

He himself carried his sword, patrolling back and forth beneath the four arenas in a leisurely manner.

The Spirit Hall soul masters on those four arenas didn't even need to lift a finger; they simply had to stand there and put on an expression that said, "Come at me!" to make any eager challengers shrink back in fear.

Mess with him?

Are you joking? Who knew if that Zhao Linchuan also possessed a hundred-thousand-year soul ring?

One had to remember, he hadn't even manifested his soul rings while defeating the four arena guardians.

One strike, one person; clean and efficient.

Who would dare provoke such a person?

Zhao Linchuan hummed a little tune, calculating in his heart as he patrolled.

He had placed a massive bet on the outer perimeter this time.

With an outrageous payout ratio of one to nine, he had bet that Spirit Hall would be able to advance six people.

And he had bet a full two hundred million gold soul coins!

Two hundred million!

That wasn't two million, nor twenty million; it was two hundred million!

If he won, even after deducting the handling fees, he would still walk away with one point five billion gold soul coins.

One point five billion—just thinking about it made the corners of Zhao Linchuan's mouth curl upward uncontrollably.

As for whether the bookmaker could afford to pay out such odds?

That was not something Zhao Linchuan needed to worry about.

His little wife was the Saintess of Spirit Hall, his little wife's teacher was the Pope of Spirit Hall, and his own teacher was the Second Elder of Spirit Hall.

If you dare to offer such odds, and you can't come up with the money... then you're going to have a very hard time.

Time reached the evening.

The setting sun slanted westward, and the clouds on the horizon were dyed a deep, intense orange-red, shrouding the entire arena in a warm twilight.

On the eight arenas, the battles continued, though they were nearing their end.

Due to Zhao Linchuan's actions, the remaining two arenas held by the Clear Sky Sect were under immense pressure.

Almost every few moments, someone would step up to challenge, and the defending disciples were swapped out batch after batch.

Some were blasted off in less time than it took to drink a cup of tea, while others managed to hold on for a few rounds, only to eventually be exhausted by the war of attrition and suffer a wretched defeat.

Although no lives were lost, judging by the severity of the injuries sustained by the Clear Sky Sect disciples being carried away, they were destined to be unable to cultivate normally without two or three months of recovery.

Inside the Clear Sky Sect's resting area, Tang Hao's injuries had mostly recovered.

He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, stood up, and stretched his limbs.

Immediately after, Tang Hao swept his gaze across the arenas and could not help but frown.

He saw that of the six arenas the Clear Sky Sect had originally planned to secure, only two remained.

Furthermore, those two were on the verge of collapse; disciples of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Sect were launching fierce assaults upon them, the light of their soul skills flickering as the sounds of collision rang out one after another, clearly on the brink of falling.

"Brother Hao." Tang Xiao, who had recovered slightly earlier than him, walked up to Tang Hao with an urgent expression on his face. "You're finally awake."

"Let's go take over quickly; the sun is about to set!"

Although Tang Hao felt a surge of anger, he still nodded.

"Let's go, Big Brother."

"We'll settle the score in the matches to come..."

Before sunset.

The setting sun had already touched the mountain ridge.

On the eight arenas, the final few battles had also been decided.

Zhao Linchuan stepped onto one of the arenas guarded by a Spirit Hall soul master.

When that soul master saw him ascend, his eyes lit up, and he jumped off the arena with great tact.

Before leaving, he even carefully introduced himself—"Wang Hu, martial soul Iron Arm Ape, level fifty-three battle soul king."

Zhao Linchuan nodded in response, indicating he had remembered his name.

"Today's matches have concluded—!"

Qian Xunji's voice came from the viewing platform, echoing through the mountains like a thunderclap, reaching the ears of everyone present.

"The eight contestants remaining on the arenas shall advance to the next round!"

"Tomorrow will be a day of rest—the competition will continue the morning after next!"

As his words fell, Qian Xunji took the lead and departed from the viewing platform with his Spirit Hall attendants.

Although Yu Yuanzhen and the others gritted their teeth, they had no choice but to leave in the end.

After the matches.

Dusk gathered, and the last trace of orange-red on the horizon sank behind the ridge.

In the spectator stands surrounding the arena, the crowd receded like a tide, the clamor gradually fading away, leaving only a few scattered staff members cleaning up the venue.

"Linchuan, you were truly amazing."

Bibi Dong and Yan Lingji walked slowly toward Zhao Linchuan.

"To think you came up with such a method; if I had known, I would have done the same as you and occupied the other two arenas as well."