Grandmaster, Was This in Your Theory Too?

At Blue Tyrant Academy's training ground, word of the sparring match between Ling Yun and Tang San had spread, though no one knew who had let it slip.

By the time Liu Erlong arrived with the Shrek group, more than a hundred students had gathered around the field. Even several Advanced Class Students had slipped out of lessons to watch.

No wonder. Ling Yun had fought plenty of people at the academy, but everyone knew he had only broken through to Level 40 that day.

And now an outsider dared to challenge him? Who wouldn't want to see that?

"Which one's from Shrek?"

"Looks like the blue-haired one."

"He's only in the thirties, right? And he dares fight our boss?" The Blue Tyrant students clearly weren't taking the match seriously.

Ma Hongjun had listened to them the whole way over and was already annoyed. He couldn't help shouting at the crowd, "So what if he's only in the thirties? When our Brother San was level thirty-three, even Soul Ancestors above level forty couldn't be sure they'd beat him!"

A chorus of boos immediately rose nearby.

"Keep bragging. Just don't blame it on our boss's higher level when he beats him."

The two sides grew louder and louder. Flender stayed out of it and leaned toward Liu Erlong instead. "Erlong, you've always said this kid is strong in a real fight. How strong, exactly?"

Liu Erlong looked toward the center of the training ground. Ling Yun had arrived long ago. He sat on the stone railing at the edge of the field, head lowered as he rewrapped the guard on his right wrist. Greninja crouched beside him with its forelegs resting on its knees, waiting just as quietly. Neither boy nor frog showed the slightest tension before the fight.

Liu Erlong thought for a moment. "Last year, a level forty-five Soul Ancestor from the Advanced Class refused to accept that Ling Yun was stronger. Ling Yun was level thirty-seven then, and he beat him all the way from the east side of the training ground to the west."

Flender fell silent. Beside him, Zhao Wuji chuckled. "I like this kid."

Yu Xiaogang, however, frowned slightly.

"Defeating a level forty-five opponent at level thirty-seven doesn't prove much. If the opponent's Martial Soul was mediocre, or his Soul Skill Configuration was flawed, fighting above one's level wouldn't be impossible."

Liu Erlong glanced at him without arguing. "See for yourself in a moment."

At the center of the field, Ling Yun finally spoke. "Little San, what's taking so long? Haven't seen you in seven years, and now you need Grandmaster's permission just to walk?"

Tang San's calm expression darkened a little.

"Little San, don't let him get to you. His Soul Power is higher than yours, so don't clash with him head-on. Observe his Martial Soul's abilities first, then look for a weakness. No Martial Soul is without flaws," Yu Xiaogang reminded him.

Tang San nodded. "I understand."

Ling Yun had good hearing and caught every word. He glanced at Yu Xiaogang. "Grandmaster, why not speak a little louder? Better yet, write your tactics on a sheet of paper and hand it to Little San. I promise I won't peek."

Someone at the edge of the field burst out laughing. Yu Xiaogang's face darkened, and he said no more.

Tang San walked onto the training ground and stopped a dozen or so meters from Ling Yun. Blue Silver Grass appeared silently in his palm. As his Soul Power circulated, three Soul Rings—two yellow and one purple—rose from beneath his feet in succession.

"Level thirty-three control-type Battle Soul Elder, Tang San. Martial Soul: Blue Silver Grass."

The Blue Tyrant Academy students had been making quite a racket, but the sight of Tang San's standard optimal Soul Ring Configuration quieted them somewhat.

A Soul Elder at around thirteen really was a genius. Dai Mubai folded his arms, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

He knew perfectly well that Tang San's greatest threat had never been his Soul Power. It was the endless tricks he could pull out.

Ling Yun, meanwhile, still stood there without releasing his Soul Rings.

Tang San frowned. "Where's your Martial Soul?"

"What's the rush?" Ling Yun stretched, then turned his head.

"Partner, time to work." Greninja, crouched nearby, opened its eyes. The next instant, it leaped lightly, its dark-blue body plunging straight into Ling Yun's. The pink tongue scarf that had hung around its neck became a scarf of Soul Power draped behind Ling Yun's shoulders.

"Agility attack type? Just as I thought." Yu Xiaogang's gaze shifted.

Seven years ago, he had judged that this frog-like Martial Soul was lacking in both strength and defense.

From the look of it now, it was a mutated Beast Martial Soul that had developed toward speed.

At that thought, Yu Xiaogang felt a little better.

At least he hadn't been entirely wrong about the broad direction of the Martial Soul's development.

But in the next instant—

Yellow.

Purple.

Purple.

Three Soul Rings pulsed slowly around Ling Yun.

Plenty of people had still been talking around the training ground. Now their voices dropped noticeably.

Tang San stared at the second purple Soul Ring. For the first time, his expression truly changed.

The Second Soul Ring.

A thousand years old?

"Impossible." Yu Xiaogang almost took a step forward on instinct.

Flender turned to him. "Xiaogang?"

Yu Xiaogang ignored him completely. His attention was fixed on Ling Yun.

"A Soul Master's second Soul Ring should have an absorption limit of a little over seven hundred years. The Soul Ring left by a thousand-year Soul Beast is more than a level twenty Soul Master's body could bear. How could your Second Soul Ring be purple?"

Ling Yun had been loosening his wrists. Hearing that, he laughed. "Grandmaster, here you go again?"

Yu Xiaogang's expression froze. Ling Yun raised a hand and pointed to his Second Soul Ring.

"Seven years ago, you said my Martial Soul wasn't worth cultivating. Now I'm Level 40. What should we do about that? Should I take this Soul Ring off first so it doesn't undermine the authority of Grandmaster's theories?" Ling Yun tapped the purple ring.

The Blue Tyrant Academy students burst into laughter. Even Oscar's mouth twitched sharply. Yu Xiaogang was in no mood to care. He stared hard at Ling Yun.

"How did you absorb your Second Soul Ring?"

Ling Yun tilted his head. "Grandmaster, I'm sparring with Tang San right now. This isn't a question-and-answer session on your Martial Soul Theory."

Ling Yun paid no further attention to anyone outside the field. His First Soul Ring glowed faintly, and the watery light behind him suddenly shimmered.

In the blink of an eye, five identical figures stood scattered across the training ground.

The Blue Tyrant students showed little reaction.

Several members of Shrek frowned at once.

Dai Mubai tried to sense them, and his expression grew strange. "All five have Soul Power fluctuations?"

Liu Erlong folded her arms. "His first Soul Skill, Water Shadow Clone. They aren't ordinary illusions. Each clone can carry a portion of his Soul Power for a short time."

The first Soul Skill ended.

The five figures merged back into one.

The second purple Soul Ring lit up next.

Ling Yun raised his right hand. "Second Soul Skill: Water Shuriken."

Ling Yun flicked his hand. A blue blade of water skimmed past Tang San and struck a training stake more than ten meters away. The stake fell in two, severed cleanly through the middle. The smoothness of the cut made everyone's skin crawl.

Ma Hongjun swallowed. "That thing's water?"

Liu Erlong glanced at Flender. "Still think I was exaggerating?"

Flender was silent for a long moment. "Thirteen years old. Level 40. A thousand-year Second Soul Ring. And that kind of speed. You didn't just find yourself a student. You brought home a monster."

At the center of the field—

Ling Yun crooked a finger at Tang San. "Little San, show me what you've got."

Tang San slowly let out a breath. Blue Silver Grass was already spreading silently outward from beneath his feet.

Ling Yun watched Tang San's eyes gradually take on a purple hue and slowly lowered his center of gravity. Boy and frog seemed to merge into one.

He had waited for this day.

He had waited seven years.

"Come on, San. Take this."