Just then, someone below the platform shouted, "Well said!" The other students immediately joined in.
"Well said, Changkong!"
"A good sword? Any sword that wins is a good sword!"
"Yan, just fight already! What are you shouting for?"
Yan's face went from red to livid, and he clenched his fists. "Fine... very fine. You'd better defeat me with nothing but that sword, or else..."
"Or else what?" Wu Changkong interrupted. "Or else you'll fight another round with your mouth?"
Another wave of laughter erupted below the platform.
Hu Liena sat in the spectator stands, her expression stern, but even she had to turn her head away at that, the corners of her mouth twitching.
Yan took a deep breath and forced down all his anger.
He knew that trading more barbs with Wu Changkong would only make him look like an even bigger joke.
He slid his right foot half a step back and crossed his fists before his chest, releasing his Flame Lord Martial Soul.
Two yellow, two purple, and one black Soul Ring rose from beneath his feet.
The pressure of a Soul King's Soul Power surged in every direction, baking the stone tiles on the Spirit Battle Platform until they glowed red and cracked.
"Spirit Hall, Yan. Rank fifty-two Battle Soul King."
"Wu Changkong. Soul King." Wu Changkong stood where he was, his iron sword held across his body.
As the referee's signal rang out,
Yan stepped forward with his left foot and slammed his palms together, his fifth Soul Ring lighting up.
"Fifth Soul Skill, Flying Sand Frenzy!"
In an instant, the powers of fire and earth erupted from his body together.
The stone tiles beneath his feet shattered. The heat swept the fragments into the air, coating them in magma and flames until flying sand