Defeating Qingtian!

Soul power surged violently from Yun Ming's limbs and bones, a stream of light interwoven with pale white and deep blue rushing out from his meridians to the surface of his skin.

Fragments of metallic armor condensed from the void, layer upon layer of plating climbing up his calves.

The knee guards were engraved with archaic Sky-Propping patterns, and the heavy waist armor cinched tight around his torso.

The chest and abdominal plating glowed white like jade, with blue veins winding across the surface like rivers.

His shoulder guards rose abruptly, and six sharp metallic wings unfurled to his left and right.

The edges of the wings were wreathed in a faint, gentle Holy Spirit light.

The moment the gorget locked around his neck and shoulders, the full-face helmet descended, leaving only a pair of deep, profound eyes visible through the slits of the armor.

A vast and boundless Douluo pressure spread out in all directions, the air trembling slightly under the divine power inherent to the heavy armor.

The aura of Sky-Propping Douluo Yun Ming reached a new peak with the appearance of this battle armor.

"This is Yun Ming's most powerful form."

Guan Yue's lips curled slightly upward as he murmured softly.

Holy Spirit Sky-Propping!

This was the Four-Word Battle Armor of Sky-Propping Douluo Yun Ming!

Four-Word Battle Armor, the pinnacle of human soul technology today.

As quasi-gods, they could use the Four-Word Battle Armor to further touch that realm.

It brought them a few steps closer to the realm known as godhood.

"Interesting."

A rare trace of solemnity surfaced in the depths of Leng Hanyuan's eyes.

Under the augmentation of the Holy Spirit Sky-Propping battle armor, Yun Ming was already capable of exerting pressure upon him.

It was even greater than that of the Beast God Di Tian back in the day.

"Is this the strongest human soul master ten thousand years later?"

The Two Emperors of Ice and Snow in his spiritual sea likewise sensed the might emanating from Yun Ming and sighed in exclamation.

In comparison, the two Limit Douluos who had dominated the continent ten thousand years ago, Dragon Emperor Douluo Long Xiaoyao and Death God Douluo Ye Xishui, seemed exceptionally weak.

With the augmentation of the Four-Word Battle Armor, Yun Ming could suppress both of them single-handedly without any issue.

However, even so, the Two Emperors of Ice and Snow felt no panic in their hearts.

Their trust in Leng Hanyuan had not diminished in the slightest.

They firmly believed that even with the disadvantage of lacking Four-Word Battle Armor, Leng Hanyuan would not lose.

As Leng Hanyuan's soul spirits, they knew his strength better than anyone else.

"Your Excellency, be careful."

Yun Ming said softly.

Seeing that he had already donned his Four-Word Battle Armor while Leng Hanyuan still showed no intention of releasing his own, a strange light flashed in his eyes.

Was it arrogance, or absolute confidence in his own strength?

If Leng Hanyuan knew what Yun Ming was thinking, he would certainly shake his head while wagging a finger.

It was neither.

He simply didn't have one.

Yun Ming did not continue with idle talk.

He gripped his silver spear tightly, his knuckles turning white.

He poured all his remaining soul power into the body of the spear.

The silver spear vibrated violently, and the golden spiral pattern at the tip began to spin frantically.

It spun faster and faster, finally transforming into a golden halo encircling the spearhead.

At the same time, the ninth soul ring beneath his feet lit up.

The surrounding clouds began to rotate around him, forming a massive vortex with Yun Ming at its center.

He raised his spear.

Ninth Soul Skill—Sky-Propping Sun-Shooting.

Not many people on the continent knew this name.

Even fewer had seen it.

Because most of those who had seen it were already dead.

The moment the spear tip aimed at Leng Hanyuan, Leng Hanyuan retracted his ice wings.

His ice-blue pupils reflected that golden light, contracting slightly before his lips moved.

Yun Ming did not give him any extra time.

The spear struck.

The Sky-Propping Spear was hurled from his hand.

The moment the silver spear left his grip, the entire sky was illuminated.

Golden flames burned along the shaft of the spear, trailing a perfectly straight path behind it.

The air on both sides of the trajectory was scorched and distorted by the intense heat.

In front of the spearhead, space melted and shattered layer by layer, like wax pierced by a red-hot iron needle.

It was like a golden arrow shot from the ground toward the sun.

Moving with incomparable speed, it reached Leng Hanyuan in the blink of an eye.

Leng Hanyuan did not dodge.

He crossed his hands before him, fingers splayed, palms facing the golden arrow.

The icy wings behind his back snapped open to their limit, their tips piercing into the void.

His ice-blue pupils flared with light.

Pale, cold, and devoid of temperature.

"Mystic Phoenix—"

Leng Hanyuan's lips moved as he uttered these two words.

As the words fell, the space before him began to freeze.

Layer upon layer of ice mirrors manifested before him.

Complex patterns flowed across the surface of every ice mirror.

Seven ice mirrors formed simultaneously in less than half a blink, arranged in overlapping rows.

They stood before him like seven transparent city walls.

The Sky-Propping Spear slammed into them.

The first ice mirror shattered instantly.

It broke without a shred of resistance, as if made of paper. The fragments were vaporized by the golden flames on the spear before they could even fly off, leaving not even a mist of water behind.

The spear's momentum remained undiminished.

The second mirror shattered as well.

Then the third, the fourth...

With the shattering of each ice mirror, Leng Hanyuan's body shuddered slightly, yet his expression remained unchanged.

The fifth ice mirror held for half a second; cracks spread from the center to the edges like a dense spiderweb before it finally collapsed into a sky full of ice shards.

Although it still hadn't stopped the spear, the results were beginning to show.

The outer layer of golden flames on the spearhead had been worn away.

The spearhead pierced into the sixth ice mirror but did not immediately penetrate it.

Golden soul power and ice-blue energy wrestled upon the surface of the mirror.

They erupted in a blinding light, splitting the entire sky in two.

One half gold, one half white.

The two colors tore at each other.

A harsh, piercing screeching sound rang out.

A fissure appeared at the corner of Leng Hanyuan's eye.

There was no blood, only a thin white mark.

Cold air spilled out from it like a wisp of fine smoke.

Bang!

The sixth ice mirror shattered as well.

The golden flames on the tip of the Sky-Propping Spear were almost entirely extinguished.

The exposed silver body of the spear was covered in cracks.

Only the final ice mirror remained.

At this very moment, Leng Hanyuan suddenly performed an action that no one had expected.

He withdrew the defense of his wings and condensed all his cold energy into his hands.

Then, he pushed his hands forward, pressing them against the back of the seventh ice mirror.

The seventh ice mirror suddenly tripled in thickness.

A massive phantom of the Mystic Phoenix projected outward from the ice mirror.

The spear tip collided with the mirror surface, yet there was no sound.

The entire world fell silent.

Only a mixture of gold and white light remained.

The radiance dissipated.

The spear had stopped against the mirror.

The tip had pierced the surface, sinking in by a third, but it failed to break through.

Cracks spread outward from the spear tip, crawling densely across the entire ice mirror.

At the very center, a hole the size of a fist had shattered open.

Leng Hanyuan's face was on the other side of the hole, less than a palm's breadth away from the spear tip.

He stood his ground, not retreating a single step.

The shaft of the silver spear trembled violently a few times.

Then, losing all its power, it fell from mid-air like an ordinary iron rod.

It plunged into the ground below, emitting a dull thud.

Yun Ming, his face deathly pale, gasped for air as he stared blankly at Leng Hanyuan ahead.

A drop of blood finally seeped from the cut at the corner of Leng Hanyuan's eye.

But it did not flow down.

It froze halfway.

It hung beneath the corner of his eye like a blood-colored bead of ice.

Leng Hanyuan raised his hand and flicked the ice bead away with the back of his finger.

Then he lifted his head to look at Yun Ming.

His gaze was calm.

There was no mockery in his ice-blue pupils.

A sharp Ice Feather had arrived at Yun Ming's throat, though no one knew when.

"You have lost."