Successive Victories!

The matches on the martial arena progressed quickly.

There were thirty-two advancing contestants in the two-ring group, plus sixteen who had advanced beyond their rank from the one-ring group, making forty-eight in total.

After the first round of eliminations, twenty-four winners remained, while the losers were eliminated.

Zhou Ke was Li Long's first opponent in the two-ring group. After winning that match, Li Long entered the second round and waited for the next matchup.

There was a break of roughly two incense sticks' time in between.

Li Long did not idle around.

He sat on a bench in the rest area, closed his eyes, and meditated, gradually restoring the soul power he had expended.

Using his first soul skill at full force for those two strikes had cost him quite a bit. Fortunately, his foundation of level-twenty soul power was solid, and the recovery boost brought by a three-ring Soul Elder's body meant that he had already recovered seventy to eighty percent in that short time.

Information on his second-round opponent arrived quickly.

A level-twenty-three two-ring Grand Soul Master, whose martial soul was a double-bladed axe and who leaned toward the strength type.

When the presiding deacon called Li Long's name, he rose from the bench, rolled his right shoulder, and walked toward the center of the arena.

The distance from the rest area to the center of the field was not long, but he could clearly sense that the atmosphere in the stands had changed from before.

More eyes were focused on him, the chatter had grown denser, and quite a few people had even adjusted their sitting posture, as though waiting for a good show to begin.

The wielder of the double-bladed axe was a stocky boy of twelve or thirteen. He was not tall, but his shoulders and back were exceptionally broad, and both arms were as thick as tree trunks.

The axe head was as large as a washbasin, sharpened on both sides and glinting with a cold iron-gray light.

He stood firmly in the arena, his feet planted heavily. At a glance, it was obvious that his stance was extremely stable.

Another head-on fighter. The thought flashed through Li Long's mind, and he drew his iron staff.

The instant the presiding deacon announced the start, the boy opposite him swung his axe down.

He activated his first soul skill with his very first attack. A layer of dark yellow light covered the axe head, its power and weight clearly surging as the wind it kicked up carried even more weight than Zhou Ke's Swift Wind Thrust.

Li Long raised his staff horizontally to block.

Bang!

The blow was several degrees heavier than Zhou Ke's Swift Wind Thrust. Li Long's arms sank slightly, and fine cracks appeared in the stone slabs beneath his feet, but his center of gravity did not waver.

Sparks flew from the point where their weapons collided, and a piercing metallic scrape rang out between the staff and the axe blade.

The boy opposite gritted his teeth and continued to exert force, trying to press Li Long down.

Li Long bent his knees slightly, channeling the impact into the ground. Then he suddenly drove upward, knocking the axe aside, and swept his iron staff toward his opponent's waist.

The boy reacted quickly enough, raising the axe shaft vertically to block and taking the blow head-on.

But he had underestimated the force behind the iron staff. His entire body was sent sliding sideways two steps, his soles leaving a black streak across the stone slabs.

Li Long gave him no chance to catch his breath.

Three consecutive staff strikes crashed down, each heavier than the last. Golden light covered the staff, and every blow carried a dull pressure from the wind.

The boy raised his axe and received them head-on. The first strike numbed his wrists, the second forced him half a step back, and the third smashed his knees into a bend, nearly making him kneel.

"Concede." Li Long spoke once, his iron staff stopping in midair without coming down again.

The boy looked up at him, took several ragged breaths, then lowered his head to look at his trembling hands. In the end, he set down his axe and forced out through clenched teeth, "...Why are you so strong?"

Without waiting for Li Long's answer, he turned and walked off the field.

Li Long put away his staff and glanced at the red marks on his palms.

This opponent was indeed quite strong. After trading three head-on blows, his palms were a little redder than they had been after fighting Zhou Ke.

But this was still far from his limit.

Applause rose from the stands again.

This time, it was more uniform than before. Many people began clapping, and someone even let out two short whistles.

In the third round, his opponent was a level-twenty-two speed-type two-ring Soul Master with a dagger martial soul.

His opponent had clearly watched recordings of Li Long's first two matches. From the start, he circled and wore him down, attempting to exploit his speed advantage and drag out the fight.

Li Long failed to catch him after chasing twice, so he simply stopped chasing.

Then he did something that surprised the entire audience.

He crouched down, laid his iron staff horizontally before his knees, assumed a defensive posture, and waited for the other side to attack.

The greatest weakness of speed-type Soul Masters was that once their attack failed and they became entangled in close combat, it was difficult for them to pull away again.

Li Long understood that clearly, so he simply gave up the chase and forced his opponent to come to him.

Sure enough, after a brief standoff, the other boy lost patience.

The dagger cut in from the side, its cold glint stabbing straight toward Li Long's waist and ribs.

Li Long had anticipated the angle. He pressed his iron staff down, accurately pinning the flat of the dagger, then pushed forward with the motion.

His opponent lost his balance and staggered a step. Li Long drove the middle of his staff forward, striking him squarely in the chest.

His control was precise. He merely pushed the boy out of the arena without causing any real injury.

After landing, his opponent rolled once before getting to his feet. He clutched his chest and coughed twice, his face full of unwillingness, but he had indeed left the arena and lost according to the rules.

Three fights, three wins, with one ring.

Then came the fourth and fifth rounds.

His opponents grew stronger and stronger. Their soul power levels rose from twenty-two to twenty-five, and their soul ring combinations varied. Some possessed control-type soul skills, some had enhancement-type soul skills, and one even had a rare poison-type second soul skill.

In the poison-type match, Li Long was forced to use evasive footwork for the first time. After dodging three sprays of poison mist in succession, he swept his staff into the opponent's supporting leg and sent him sprawling to the ground.

The entire exchange was clean and decisive, giving his opponent no chance to release the poison mist a second time.

Five fights, five wins.

In the rest area beside the martial arena, all the one-ring contestants who had advanced beyond their rank had already been eliminated.

Of the sixteen, only Li Long remained in the winners' bracket. The other fifteen had all fallen in either the first or second round of the two-ring group.

They sat at the edge of the arena and watched Li Long win match after match, their expressions shifting from initial envy to shock, and then to numbness.

One eliminated contestant sat in a corner and muttered, "Is that guy really in the same group as us...?"

The person beside him gave a bitter laugh but said nothing.

The atmosphere in the stands had completely heated up.

Originally, on the first day of the competition, most attention had been focused on the top few contestants in the two-ring group. But now, everyone's discussions were converging on that ten-year-old boy.

A one-ring contestant challenging the two-ring group, winning five straight matches, every victory clean and decisive—and he had not revealed any trump card beyond his first soul skill in a single match.

In other words, he did not even have a second soul skill. Since he had only one ring, he had fought to this point using the same soul skill over and over again.

That move alone had already torn through all five two-ring contestants.

"How old is his first soul ring, exactly? How can its soul skill be so damn powerful?" someone in the stands asked.

"I heard it's five hundred years."

"Five hundred years? Are you kidding? A one-ring Soul Master absorbing a five-hundred-year soul ring?"

"It's absolutely true. The records submitted by the Notting City branch passed review, and the Pope personally approved it. I heard the limit was changed because of him too, but it was later changed back because no one else succeeded."

"...No wonder."

On the raised platform, the tea before Qian Shengyuan had finally been replaced for the fourth time, yet he still had not taken a sip.

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze following the figure in the arena as he put away his staff and returned to the rest area, until the boy sat down in a corner.

He turned the ring on his hand and spoke softly.

"Five matches. From the first match until now, he has defeated five people with the same move."

Hearing this, the attendant beside him bowed slightly and waited for the Pope's next words.

Qian Shengyuan said nothing further. His gaze only darkened, something stirring in his eyes.

He seemed to be making some sort of judgment, but he had yet to reach a final decision.

After several breaths, he spoke again, asking about something else.

"At this stage of the two-ring group, how many people remain?"

The attendant glanced at the matchup chart in his hands and answered, "Eight contestants remain undefeated. Four are two-ring contestants, one is a one-ring contestant who advanced beyond his rank—Li Long—and the other three are three-ring contestants who voluntarily entered the lower group."

Qian Shengyuan's eyes narrowed slightly. "Three-ring contestants came too?"

"The rules allow it. A Soul Elder who is willing to compete in the two-ring group only needs to apply before the competition, provided their opponent does not object. These three are all lower-level Soul Elders, level thirty-one to thirty-two."

Qian Shengyuan did not respond. His gaze returned to the martial arena.

A moment later, his lips moved slightly, as though speaking to himself.

"A one-ring Soul Master fighting a three-ring Soul Elder?"

"Now that would be even more interesting."