Arena Challenge

The arena was a square platform of bluestone, raised five feet above the ground.

Zhang Fei and Zhao Qiang took their places at opposite ends of the arena, facing each other.

The disciples in the training grounds had already crowded around the arena, their chatter forming a constant buzz.

Standing opposite him, Zhao Qiang cupped his hands in salute and declared proudly, "Zhao Qiang, martial soul: Ironback Berserk Lion, level seventeen Power Attack System Soul Master. Please enlighten me!"

Zhang Fei silently took his measure. Reaching level seventeen soul power at nine years old was already quite impressive; his innate soul power must have been at least level eight. No wonder he eyed Ning Rongrong like a tiger watching its prey. He did have some strength to back himself up.

Having spoken, Zhao Qiang flung his arms outward, and the phantom of a male lion with a bristling mane abruptly appeared behind him.

The lion's entire body was dark as cast iron. Its jaws gaped wide, revealing a mouthful of gleaming white fangs, and a soundless roar swept toward Zhang Fei, whipping up a biting gust of wind.

At the same time, a yellow soul ring slowly pulsed beneath his feet.

Unhurried, Zhang Fei returned the salute, his voice as steady as ever. "Zhang Fei, martial soul: Golden Dragon, level thirteen Power Attack System Soul Master. Please enlighten me."

At his words, Ning Rongrong, standing below the arena, began to lose her composure. Zhang Fei was clearly about her age, so how was he already level thirteen?

She had turned six two months ago and awakened with level nine innate soul power. Everyone in the sect had praised her as the most gifted Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda Soul Master, yet she still had not broken through to level ten.

Why should he be ahead? Could his talent be greater than mine?

For the first time, Ning Rongrong studied Zhang Fei seriously, a competitive streak quietly stirring in her heart.

Zhao Qiang, however, wore a faint, relaxed smile.

Level thirteen against level seventeen-a full four levels of difference in soul power. He clearly thought victory in this spar was already in his grasp.

But the smile on his face soon froze.

A pillar of golden light suddenly shot skyward from beneath Zhang Fei's feet. The phantom of an enormous golden dragon, over a hundred feet long, abruptly unfurled behind him, its body coiled and its head held high.

Its pale golden, slit-pupiled eyes looked down upon everyone present. A sacred draconic might burst outward, sweeping across the entire training grounds.

The clamor below the arena vanished in an instant.

Everyone's eyes were riveted on the golden dragon phantom, their expressions shifting from curiosity to shock.

The Ironback Berserk Lion phantom behind Zhao Qiang shuddered violently.

Its previously ferocious, claw-baring presence was utterly suppressed. Its head drooped, and its legs bent slightly beneath it.

That was instinctive fear-the natural bloodline suppression dragons held over beasts.

Even though Zhang Fei's soul power level was four levels lower, the pressure emanating from his martial soul origin still made Zhao Qiang's martial soul tremble uncontrollably.

Meanwhile, a deep yellow soul ring slowly pulsed beneath Zhang Fei's feet, its color noticeably darker than Zhao Qiang's yellow soul ring.

Zhao Qiang clenched his teeth, a fine layer of sweat beading at his temples.

"Martial Soul Possession!"

With a low roar, he forcibly steadied himself, and grayish-brown soul power light suddenly enveloped his entire body.

Zhao Qiang instantly grew taller, his shoulders and back widening. A layer of coarse, stiff, dark gray mane emerged across his skin, and sharp claws extended from his fingertips.

Across from him, Zhang Fei also activated the Golden Dragon's Martial Soul Possession, golden light pouring from within him.

A pair of golden dragon horns about two inches long slowly grew from his forehead, and his pupils abruptly narrowed into golden slits.

Golden dragon scales emerged from beneath his skin, densely covering his arms, shoulders, and back, as though he had donned a thin but tough suit of golden armor.

Vast strength surged through every part of his body. When he clenched his right hand, he felt as though he could crush stone. Such was the terrifying strength of the Golden Dragon.

Zhang Fei simply could not yet achieve complete dragon transformation of his limbs. Otherwise, the Golden Dragon's terrifying strength and five sharp claws would have easily torn through every obstacle before him.

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

His legs suddenly drove against the ground, and he lunged at Zhang Fei, wreathed in a fierce rush of wind, swift and savage.

Refusing to give ground, Zhang Fei swung both fists and met him head-on.

Fists covered in golden dragon scales collided fiercely with dark gray Ironback Lion claws in midair.

Clang!

A sharp ring of metal striking metal exploded over the training grounds, sending sparks flying.

The tremendous force drove Zhao Qiang back several steps, leaving his right arm slightly numb.

Zhang Fei stood firmly where he was, his feet never shifting an inch.

His body, tempered in the Ice and Fire Yin Yang Well, had already possessed a foundation far beyond that of ordinary people. Coupled with three months of brutal beatings as She Long and Pufferfish took turns training him, his physical toughness had long since surpassed anything his appearance suggested.

Zhao Qiang's pupils briefly contracted. He had not expected Zhang Fei's strength to let him take a full-powered punch head-on, and resentment grew wildly within him.

He stamped hard against the ground, his dark gray figure charging forward once more.

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

Golden blurs of fists and dark gray claws flashed across the arena, every collision producing a piercing metallic ring.

Both were Power Attack System Soul Masters, and their fight was savage to the extreme.

Although Zhao Qiang looked tall and imposing, his muscles bulging, Zhang Fei drove him back with every blow.

After just a few exchanges, Zhao Qiang's earlier ease, born of his certainty of victory, had vanished without a trace. An indescribable agitation surged within him.

There was a full four-level gap in their soul power, yet his opponent's 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 flared.

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

A heavy, stifling pressure erupted from Zhao Qiang. His chest swelled, and a violent roar burst from deep within his throat, deafening in its intensity.

Visible ripples spread through the air, wave after wave bearing down on Zhang Fei.

Zhang Fei did not dodge.

He gave a low shout. "First Soul Skill, Golden-Armored Body."

The deep yellow soul ring beneath his feet abruptly flared, and the golden sheen on his dragon scales grew richer.

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

The sonic wave slammed into him like surf crashing against a reef. His enhanced defense shattered it, scattering it to either side.

A chorus of hushed gasps rose from below the arena.

Resentment surged through Zhao Qiang's heart.

He recklessly charged forward again, raising his claws high and bringing them down toward Zhang Fei's shoulder with all his soul power behind them. This blow used almost every ounce of his strength; he no longer even spared a thought for defense.

Zhang Fei did not evade. He merely tilted his head slightly, allowing Zhao Qiang's full-powered claw strike to land on his shoulder.

Clang!

A metallic crash even louder than before exploded through the air.

The claws struck the dragon scales on Zhang Fei's shoulder, scattering sparks.

Yet the sharp claws slid off the golden scales without disturbing them in the slightest.

Zhao Qiang's pupils abruptly contracted, disbelief spreading across his face.

How was that possible? He had put all his strength into that strike, yet he could not even leave a mark?

Zhang Fei gave him no time to think.

The feeling of brimming strength, doubled in its entirety, set the blood throughout his body boiling.

He turned his left hand, his five fingers curling like hooks, and seized Zhao Qiang's right wrist before he could pull it back.

Alarm shot through Zhao Qiang's heart. He exerted himself violently, trying to break free, only to discover that Zhang Fei's golden-scaled hand held him fast like an iron clamp.