Arena Challenge

The arena was a square bluestone platform raised about half a zhang above the ground.

Zhang Fei and Zhao Qiang each took one end of the arena, facing one another.

The disciples on the training grounds had already crowded around the platform, their discussions buzzing endlessly.

Standing opposite him, Zhao Qiang cupped his fists in salute and said proudly, "Zhao Qiang, Martial Soul: Iron-Spined Mad Lion, a level seventeen assault-type Soul Master. Please enlighten me!"

Zhang Fei silently assessed him. Reaching seventeen levels of Soul Power at only nine years old was already quite impressive. His Innate Soul Power had to be at least level eight. No wonder he had set his sights on Ning Rongrong—he did have some confidence to back it up.

As soon as Zhao Qiang finished speaking, he violently shook his arms. The phantom of a male lion with a wildly flaring mane abruptly appeared behind him.

The lion's body was dark and dull, as if cast from iron. Its jaws gaped wide, exposing rows of grim white fangs. An invisible roar swept toward Zhang Fei, carrying a sharp gust of pressure.

At the same time, a yellow Soul Ring slowly pulsed beneath his feet.

Unhurried, Zhang Fei returned the salute with cupped fists. His tone remained calm. "Zhang Fei, Martial Soul: Golden Dragon, a level thirteen assault-type Soul Master. Please enlighten me."

The moment he said that, Ning Rongrong below the stage became unsettled. Zhang Fei was clearly about the same age as her—how was he already level thirteen?

Two months ago, she had turned six and awakened with level-nine Innate Soul Power. The entire sect had praised her as the most gifted Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda Soul Master, yet she had still not broken through level ten.

Why him? Could his talent be even greater than mine?

For the first time, Ning Rongrong seriously studied Zhang Fei, silently beginning to compete with him in her heart.

Meanwhile, a relaxed smile appeared on Zhao Qiang's face.

Level thirteen against level seventeen—a full four levels of Soul Power apart. He clearly believed victory was already in his grasp.

But the smile on his face quickly froze.

A pillar of golden light shot into the sky from beneath Zhang Fei's feet. Behind him, the phantom of a golden dragon over ten zhang long abruptly unfolded, its body coiled and its head held high.

Those pale golden vertical pupils looked down upon the entire arena. A sacred dragon's might burst outward, sweeping through the whole training ground.

The noise below the stage vanished in an instant.

Everyone stared fixedly at the golden dragon phantom, their expressions shifting from curiosity to shock.

The Iron-Spined Mad Lion phantom behind Zhao Qiang suddenly trembled.

Its once ferocious bearing was completely suppressed. The lion lowered its head, its limbs drawing inward slightly.

That was instinctive fear—the natural bloodline suppression of dragons over beasts.

Even though Zhang Fei's Soul Power Level was four levels lower, the pressure originating from the very source of his Martial Soul still made Zhao Qiang's Martial Soul tremble uncontrollably.

At the same time, a dark yellow Soul Ring slowly pulsed beneath Zhang Fei's feet, clearly deeper in color than Zhao Qiang's yellow Soul Ring.

Zhao Qiang clenched his teeth, a fine layer of sweat appearing on his forehead.

"Martial Soul Possession!"

He let out a low roar and forcibly steadied himself as grayish-brown Soul Power light suddenly enveloped his entire body.

Zhao Qiang's figure instantly grew taller, his shoulders and back widening. A layer of coarse dark-gray mane emerged across his skin, while sharp claws extended from the tips of his fingers.

On the other side, Zhang Fei also activated the Golden Dragon's Martial Soul Possession, golden light pouring out from within his body.

A pair of golden dragon horns, roughly two inches long, slowly emerged from his forehead, while his pupils suddenly narrowed into golden vertical slits.

Golden dragon scales surfaced beneath his skin, densely covering his arms, shoulders, and back like a thin yet resilient suit of golden armor.

A vast force surged through every limb and bone. With a clench of his right hand, he felt as though he could crush stone. The Golden Dragon's power was truly terrifying.

It was just that Zhang Fei could not yet achieve complete Dragon Transformation in all four limbs. Otherwise, with the Golden Dragon's terrifying strength and sharp five claws, he could easily tear through every obstacle before him.

Zhao Qiang forcibly suppressed the trembling rising from the depths of his bloodline.

He suddenly drove off with both legs, charging at Zhang Fei in a fierce gust of wind, swift and savage.

Unwilling to yield, Zhang Fei threw out both fists and met him head-on.

The fist covered in golden dragon scales collided violently in midair with the dark-gray Iron-Spined Lion claws.

Clang!

A crisp metallic crash exploded over the training ground, sparks flying everywhere.

Zhao Qiang was driven several steps back by the tremendous force, his right arm going slightly numb.

Zhang Fei, however, stood firmly where he was, his feet utterly unmoving.

His body had already been far stronger than ordinary people after being tempered by the Ice and Fire Yin Yang Well. Combined with three months of brutal training under She Long and Pufferfish, Zhang Fei's physical strength had long surpassed what his appearance suggested.

Zhao Qiang's pupils contracted slightly. He had not expected Zhang Fei to withstand his full-powered punch head-on, and the resentment in his heart surged wildly.

He stomped against the ground, his dark-gray figure bursting forward once again.

Zhang Fei neither dodged nor retreated, meeting him with fists like iron hammers.

Golden fist shadows and dark-gray claw blades flashed and intertwined across the arena. Every collision erupted with a piercing metallic ring.

Both were assault-type Soul Masters, and their battle was brutally violent.

Though Zhao Qiang looked tall and imposing, his muscles bulging, every strike he made was forced back by Zhang Fei.

After several exchanges, the ease Zhao Qiang had once felt from certain victory had completely vanished, replaced by an indescribable agitation.

Their Soul Power differed by a full four levels, yet the other party's physical strength was nothing like what a level thirteen Soul Master should possess.

He suddenly let out a low roar, and the yellow Soul Ring beneath his feet lit up.

"First Soul Skill, Lion's Roar Tremor!"

A heavy oppressive force burst from Zhao Qiang. His chest abruptly swelled, then a violent roar erupted from the depths of his throat, deafeningly loud.

Ripples spread visibly through the air, crushing toward Zhang Fei in wave after wave.

Zhang Fei did not dodge.

He shouted in a low voice, "First Soul Skill, Golden Armor Body."

The dark yellow Soul Ring beneath his feet suddenly lit up, and the golden sheen on his dragon scales deepened another layer.

A vast power surged through his limbs, instantly doubling his defense and strength.

The sound waves crashed against him like waves striking a reef. Shattered by his enhanced defense, they broke apart and dispersed to either side.

A wave of hushed exclamations rose from below the stage.

A surge of unwillingness welled up in Zhao Qiang's heart.

He charged forward again without hesitation, raising his claws high and slashing them down toward Zhang Fei's shoulder with all the Soul Power in his body. This strike used nearly all of his strength, leaving him no room to care about defense.

Zhang Fei did not evade. He merely tilted his head slightly and allowed Zhao Qiang's all-out claw strike to slash down on his shoulder.

Clang!

An even louder metallic crash exploded.

The claw blades struck the dragon scales on Zhang Fei's shoulder, sending sparks in every direction.

Yet the claws slid across the surface of the golden scales, unable to shake the golden armor in the slightest.

Zhao Qiang's pupils suddenly shrank, disbelief filling his face.

How was that possible? He had used his full strength in that strike, yet he could not even leave a mark?

Zhang Fei gave him no time to think.

The sensation of his power having doubled made the blood throughout his body boil.

He flipped his left hand, his five fingers hooking like claws as he seized Zhao Qiang's right wrist before Zhao Qiang could pull it back.

Zhao Qiang's heart jolted. He immediately tried to wrench free, only to discover that Zhang Fei's hand, covered in golden scales, had clamped down on him like an iron vise.