Suppression, Against Zhao Wuji

Boom—!

A thunderous explosion rang out, making the ground tremble faintly.

Countless streams of azure Soul Power burst from the point where the two collided, as though someone had shattered a blue sun in midair.

The blinding light made it impossible to keep one's eyes open. The shockwave swept broken stones and dust outward, plowing deep ravines across the ground.

Smoke and dust billowed, blotting out the sky.

After a long while,

as the dust gradually settled, Xiao Wu and the others finally saw what had happened in the arena.

Li Yusong was kneeling on one knee, his right hand weakly supporting himself with the Dragon Pattern Staff. The webbing between both hands had split open, blood running down the staff.

From that single strike, Li Yusong had been forced back more than ten meters before barely managing to steady himself.

Zhao Linchuan remained where he stood, without taking a single step.

He withdrew his Soul Power. Five Soul Rings slowly sank back into his body, and the azure light faded from his palm.

Then Zhao Linchuan stood with his hands behind his back and said indifferently,

"Teacher, you lost."

Li Yusong straightened himself with great difficulty, his legs still trembling faintly.

He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, lowered his eyes, and said dejectedly,

"I lost."

At that moment, Zhao Wuji and the others hurried out from the academy after hearing the explosion.

Zhao Wuji was at the front, followed by the two teachers Shao Xin and Lu Qibin.

His gaze swept over the wrecked grounds, his brows knotting together as he hurriedly asked,

"Old Li, what happened...?!"

"Sigh, this is what happened..."

Leaning on the Dragon Pattern Staff, Li Yusong shakily pushed himself to his feet, his face full of bitterness.

He wiped the blood from his mouth and recounted everything that had just happened in full detail.

"...That was roughly what happened."

After listening to Li Yusong's account, an almost absurd expression suddenly appeared on Zhao Wuji's face. Frowning, he said,

"A thousand-year second ring?! A ten-thousand-year third ring?!"

"Old Li, you're not trying to fool me, are you?"

"Though it's hard to believe, it's the truth," Li Yusong explained bitterly. "And the quality of his Martial Soul is extremely high. When I fought him just now, nearly half of my strength was forcibly suppressed."

"Even my Martial Soul was trembling, as if it didn't dare face his."

It was worth mentioning that Li Yusong had been suppressed because of an innate effect of Zhao Linchuan's Martial Soul.

It could unconditionally suppress half the strength of any dragon-related Soul Beast or Martial Soul wielder.

And on the present-day Douluo Continent, the strongest and most numerous dragon-type Martial Soul wielders belonged to the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan.

In other words, barring any surprises, Zhao Linchuan was destined to clash with them in this lifetime.

Unless...

Unless the Blue Lightning Tyrant Sect was willing to lower its head and acknowledge him as their father.

Otherwise, a battle between the two sides was inevitable.

Either he would rise by stepping upon their corpses, or they would do everything in their power to crush him before he could grow. There was no third path.

"He's actually this strong?" Zhao Wuji turned around and glanced at Zhao Linchuan, suddenly feeling the urge to spar with him.

That morning, because Dai Mubai had yet to return, he had been forced to personally oversee the entrance examination.

In the end, he had been played by a brat named Tang San.

That bastard had thrown out a pile of things called hidden weapons. They were impossible to guard against, vicious and insidious, with every strike aimed to kill.

Either he fired crossbow bolts at Zhao Wuji's eyes or attacked his lower body with poisoned darts. Zhao Wuji had been left seething with rage, yet had no good way to vent it.

Right now, he was still full of anger with nowhere to direct it.

Having made up his mind, Zhao Wuji called out loudly,

"Kid, do you dare fight me? Let's have a spar."

Zhao Linchuan looked over at him and said calmly,

"Sure, but I hope we can add a wager. What do you think?"

"A wager? Hahaha!"

Zhao Wuji laughed loudly, folding his arms across his chest. His bold bearing suited his Martial Soul perfectly.

"Fine. You can name anything except money as the wager."

"Then I'll wager for your position."

Zhao Linchuan's gaze fell calmly upon Zhao Wuji's face. His tone was unhurried, as though he were proposing a perfectly reasonable condition at a negotiating table.

"With your strength, you should hold quite an important position in Shrek, shouldn't you?"

"Of course. I'm the vice principal of this academy."

Zhao Wuji answered bluntly, with no intention of hiding it.

"How about this? If I lose, I'll give you the position of vice principal."

"If you lose, then as Old Li said, you give me ten thousand Gold Soul Coins."

"What do you say?"

"Of course." He added, "Even if you lose, you can still bring your students into Shrek, as long as they meet Shrek's admission requirements."

"Fine." Zhao Linchuan agreed without hesitation.

As soon as he spoke, five Soul Rings—yellow, purple, black, black, black—rose from beneath his feet once more, quietly revolving around his body.

He raised his voice and called out coldly,

"Zhao Linchuan, fifty-fourth-level healing-type Soul King, Martial Soul: Wood Azure Dragon. Please!"

"Healing-type?!"

Upon hearing that, Li Yusong nearly lost his footing. His legs went weak, and his whole body swayed twice, barely stopping himself from collapsing onto the ground.

That terrifying attack had nearly killed him and almost scattered his old bones, and this guy was saying he was healing-type?

Li Yusong opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but his lips trembled twice. In the end, nothing came out. He merely looked at Zhao Linchuan with an extraordinarily complicated expression.

There was helplessness in that gaze, along with the bewilderment of someone wondering whether the world had gone mad.

Zhao Wuji still had his arms folded across his chest. He truly was shocked by Zhao Linchuan's Soul Ring configuration.

A purple Soul Ring at level twenty, a black Soul Ring at level thirty—such a configuration was unheard of anywhere on the continent.

But his seventy-sixth-level Soul Sage Soul Power Level gave him absolute confidence.

He had cultivated for most of his life, endured countless battles between life and death, and suffered hardships beyond the imagination of ordinary people before reaching this point.

Even if a twelve- or thirteen-year-old child had begun cultivating in the womb, how much skill could he possibly have?

Zhao Wuji lifted his chin slightly and said proudly,

"Zhao Wuji, seventy-sixth-level assault-type Battle Soul Sage, Martial Soul: Vajra Bear."

After saying that, he crooked a finger at Zhao Linchuan.

"Kid, I'll let you use three Soul Skills first. Make your move."

As his words fell, seven Soul Rings—yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black—slowly rose from beneath his feet.

Two yellow, two purple, and three black—a standard Soul Sage configuration. The light of the Soul Rings flowed around his body, adding an air of arrogance to his rugged face.