The seven days of rest passed faster than expected.
Bing Yekong spent the first three days consolidating the power of his eighth Soul Ring.
That red Soul Ring streaked with three golden patterns sat steadily within him. The foundation of three hundred thousand years of soul power had settled deep in his meridians. With every breath, he could feel that mountain-heavy energy slowly rising from his dantian, circulating through his limbs and bones before sinking back down.
It felt as if an entire living volcano had appeared inside him—utterly still in times of calm, yet able to erupt with astonishing force the instant it was needed.
Beginning on the fourth day, he dragged Feng Xiaotian and Huo Wushuang into three sparring matches.
He had not gone all out, nor had he used his eighth soul skill. It was simply a matter of adjusting to his new physical state after a full year of tempering under the pressure of Sea God's Light.
Feng Xiaotian had been suppressed for two matches. By the third, he could finally withstand twenty moves against Bing Yekong without losing.
Huo Wushuang was not so lucky. Bing Yekong subdued him twice within three moves, and when he charged forward with pent-up ferocity the third time, he was still pinned to the ground on the seventh move.
He lay there panting for quite a while. When he rolled over and sat up, there was no displeasure on his face. Instead, he grinned.
"If you got serious now, you could fight a Titled Douluo, right?"
"I could handle ordinary ones." Bing Yekong said. "I'm still far from someone at the High Priestess's level."
Huo Wushuang dusted the dirt off his backside and rose to his feet. "That's already incredible."
Hearing that, Feng Xiaotian came over and examined Bing Yekong.