In short, he could "see" a person's thread of fate. What had happened in the past and where the future would lead were all presented to his senses as an abstract stream of information.
It was not merely seeing.
He could alter it.
Of course, altering it came at a cost.
At his current level, using Great Luo Insight at full power to interfere with the fate thread of someone on his own level would probably consume more than half his usual stamina and Soul Power.
But with the inexhaustible Soul Power of Qi Body Origin Stream as support and the recovery of Twin Complete Hands as assurance, that consumption became almost negligible.
He could even, if he pushed Great Luo Insight to its limit, theoretically travel through the past and future along the timeline.
The Eight Extraordinary Skills.
Eight abilities.
Each one had obvious shortcomings when used alone. Qi Body Origin Stream could deconstruct energy but could not defend against physical attacks; Spirit Binding and Command could control souls but had no offensive power of its own; Great Luo Insight could alter fate but consumed an enormous amount...
Yet once the eight abilities worked together, compensating for one another's weaknesses, the resulting effect rose geometrically.
Like a precision machine—each component was already impressive on its own, but once assembled, it became a nuclear reactor.
Yang Xing estimated his current overall combat strength.
He had the base strength of a normal level-ninety Title Douluo, bolstered in every aspect by the Eight Extraordinary Skills. He might not necessarily defeat his level-ninety-nine self without the Eight Extraordinary Skills—that was the ultimate state the system only unsealed for one minute each month. But...
He had the strength to fight.
He could survive and contend against them.
For Yang Xing, who had been a level-zero good-for-nothing for eighteen years, that conclusion was enough to make his scalp tingle with exhilaration.
He wanted to point at the sky and shout, "Invincible among equals! Above my level, I'll take on a whole group!"
More than two hours of testing came to an end.
The central region of Soul Hunting Forest, spanning more than ten kilometers, had been turned into ruins by his experiments. Scorched earth, deep craters, solidified lava, bizarre vegetation whose time had been reversed halfway, and translucent Soul Beast spirits wandering among it.
The entire area emanated a terrifying aura that made every living creature instinctively want to stay away.
In fact, from the very moment Yang Xing began testing, the soul masters hunting throughout Soul Hunting Forest had noticed something was wrong. The pillars of energy shooting into the sky, the ceaseless explosions, and the suffocating Soul Power fluctuations coming from the central region led everyone to the same conclusion.
A terrifying high-level Soul Beast had emerged.
Run.
Run out of the forest.
Yang Xing had noticed the activity around him long ago.
After the testing ended, his Great Luo Insight remained in a state of passive perception. The locations and movements of every creature within several kilometers were entirely within his grasp.
He ignored the soul masters who were fleeing.
But one group was moving toward him instead.
They stopped at the edge of his testing range and watched from afar.
The Soul Power fluctuations of the man at their head were steady and heavy, above level sixty. More than a dozen guards radiating a metallic aura surrounded him.
Yang Xing reined in the Soul Power fluctuations that had leaked out during his tests and smoothed his windblown hair.
He took a step.
The spatial movement of Wind Empress Qimen came without any warning. One moment, he was still amid the ruins a thousand meters away; the next, he appeared five meters in front of the group.
"Whoosh!"
The blast of air that accompanied his arrival stirred up a fierce gale, making the black-armored guards' clothes and armor flap loudly.
Every guard drew their weapon at the same instant.
Swords, sabers, and spears—more than a dozen weapons pointed at Yang Xing in unison, the screech of metal grating against metal especially piercing in the night. Soul Rings emerged beneath the guards' feet: two-ringed, three-ringed, with the strongest among them possessing only four rings.
But their hands were trembling.
Because the oppressive presence radiating from the young man before them, who looked no older than seventeen or eighteen, made it hard for them even to breathe.
That feeling could not be described by rank. It was the instinctive terror of a creature facing its natural predator.
The middle-aged man at the front did not draw a weapon.
He wore a luxurious robe with dark patterns. His face was square and dignified, his temples lightly graying, and a neatly trimmed short beard rested beneath his chin. His eyes were especially sharp in the moonlight, but that sharpness was now mixed with profound gravity.
He looked at Yang Xing.
Young.
Far too young.
But he had lived for over fifty years and had seen quite a few powerful people who preserved their youth. A youthful appearance did not necessarily mean one was truly young; it could also belong to some ancient monster who had retained his looks—the more terrifying his strength, the more likely that was.
He could fly.
At least a Soul Saint.
That completely unheralded spatial movement from before.
And that oppressive aura that made even him, a level-sixty-nine Soul Emperor, feel unable to breathe.
Could he possibly be a Soul Douluo, even higher than a Soul Saint?
The middle-aged man took a deep breath and pressed his raised hand downward.
"Put away your weapons."
The guards hesitated for a moment, but they still obeyed, slowly lowering their weapons.
The middle-aged man stepped forward, clasped his fists, and bent at the waist by fifteen degrees. His posture was respectful without being servile, the standard etiquette of a man of standing addressing someone of a higher level.
"I am the lord of Suotuo City, Barak Horn. Level-sixty-nine Soul Emperor, Martial Soul: Lion-Pattern War Shield."
He raised his head, looking at Yang Xing with sincere eyes.
"May I ask your honored name, Your Excellency? Have you come to Suotuo City on some important matter? If there is anything you need, Horn is willing to serve you."
Yang Xing looked at the city lord before him.
To be honest, he had only intended to find someone to ask where Spirit Hall in Suotuo City was, then go there to establish his identity and borrow some money. Yet someone had delivered himself right to Yang Xing's doorstep.
That saved him the trouble.
The corner of Yang Xing's mouth lifted slightly.
He did not waste words. He raised his right hand, palm facing upward.
Nine Soul Rings emerged beneath his feet.
Two yellow, two purple, four black, and one red.
All nine rings appeared at once, blooming with dazzling, blinding light in the night. That light illuminated every expression on the faces around them.
Barak Horn's face went pale.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.
Nine.
Nine Soul Rings.
A Title Douluo.
And a terrifying Title Douluo at that, with four ten-thousand-year Soul Rings and one hundred-thousand-year Soul Ring.
A dry gulp escaped his throat. It was as if all strength had been drained from his legs, and his knees slammed heavily into the ground.
The dozen or so black-armored guards behind him reacted even faster. The sounds of weapons slipping from their hands and hitting the ground blended together, followed by the uniform dull thuds of knees striking the earth.
"Title Douluo, Your Majesty!" Barak pressed his forehead to the ground, unable to suppress the tremor in his voice. "F-forgive Horn's blindness. I did not know Your Majesty had come to Suotuo City and failed to welcome you from afar. I beg Your Majesty's forgiveness!"
Yang Xing looked at the people prostrating themselves before him.
Honestly, this felt pretty damn good.
But outwardly, he merely waved a hand lightly.
"Get up. There's no need for such formalities."
Barak rose shakily to his feet, his knees covered in mud, though he had no mind to brush it off. His entire posture was even more lowered than before, his back bent as he dared not meet Yang Xing's eyes, staring only at his chin.
Yang Xing withdrew his Soul Rings.
"City Lord Barak, right?" His tone was as casual as if he were chatting with a neighbor. "Here's the thing: I've just arrived in Suotuo City, ran into some trouble on the road, and lost my soul coins."
He spread both hands.
"Could you arrange somewhere for me to stay? And lend me some soul coins as well?"
Barak's mind spun twice.
A Title Douluo. No money on him. Borrowing from Barak.
What kind of concept was that? It was like a humanoid nuclear bomb capable of flattening all of Suotuo City at any moment politely telling you, hey, lend me some pocket money.
Would you dare refuse?
"Your Majesty must be joking!" Barak forced a smile uglier than crying onto his face, bowing even deeper. "Your Majesty's presence in Suotuo City is the greatest honor of our city! Lodging, money—so long as Your Majesty asks, Horn will spare no expense!"
Yang Xing nodded in satisfaction.
"Then I'll have to trouble City Lord Barak."
Before you continue