Within the ancient, imposing main hall of the Body Sect in the Heaven Dou Empire.
Du Busi stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on the youth standing in the center of the hall.
The youth was tall and powerfully built, like an iron tower.
He was Long Aotian, the finest direct disciple among the younger generation of the Body Sect.
As Du Busi looked at Long Aotian before him, undisguised satisfaction appeared on his sharply defined old face.
Too outstanding.
Long Aotian was only fourteen, yet he had already reached the realm of a rank forty-five assault-type Battle Soul Ancestor.
At that age, most Soul Masters who called themselves geniuses were still struggling desperately to break through rank thirty.
And this brat's Soul Ring configuration had surpassed the limits of ordinary Soul Masters.
Yellow, purple, purple, black.
Such a Soul Ring configuration, far beyond the continent's so-called optimal arrangement, was enough to make those outside geniuses ashamed of themselves.
This talent, this perseverance—there was nothing to criticize.
Not only that, Long Aotian's comprehension was also exceptional. Any cultivation method or combat technique that fell into his hands, he could swiftly grasp its essence.
At that moment, Long Aotian sat cross-legged with his eyes closed, a faint silvery-white metallic sheen radiating from his body.
He circulated his Soul Power, his entire body exuding an indestructible, heavy sense of oppression.
Du Busi watched him, then let out a sigh.
What a pity.
If only this brat's Martial Soul were not skin.
A Body Martial Soul—skin—was already a relatively powerful top-tier Body Martial Soul among all Body Martial Souls. As the saying went, a tree without bark would surely die; a person without skin would surely die as well.
That alone showed the importance of skin. Yet compared to