"Enough of this nonsense!"
"All of you, stop!!"
"I'm not dead yet!!!"
Seeing everyone about to start fighting again, Flender was so furious his liver ached.
In a burst of anger,
the pressure of a level-seventy-eight Soul Saint abruptly descended over the area, leaving everyone struggling to breathe.
It also dampened their tempers considerably.
"Little Yang's fate is still uncertain, and you're carrying on like this? What if you really start fighting and accidentally hurt him?"
"Do you want Little Yang to recover, or are you hoping he'll die sooner?!"
Flender roared.
At his words, Dai Mubai and the others said nothing more.
Not because they didn't want to speak, but because they couldn't.
Resisting even a fraction of the pressure leaking from a level-seventy-eight Soul Saint already left them barely able to fend for themselves. How could they spare the breath to say anything?
"Hmm?"
"What are you guys doing?"
"One, two, three, freeze?"
Just as everyone was struggling desperately against the level-seventy-eight Soul Saint's pressure, they suddenly heard that familiar voice-the one that made them want to punch its owner.
Unfortunately, they couldn't turn around. Otherwise, they would all have turned as one to stare toward the source of that voice.
"Little Yang?! You-you're all right?"
"What could be wrong with me?"
"You absorbed that Soul Ring?!"
"Yeah. Is that supposed to be hard?"
Hearing Yang Jian's casual answer, Flender was both astonished and delighted.
But he soon snapped back to his senses.
Wait a minute.
I'm a level-seventy-eight Soul Saint. Even if I'm not releasing my pressure at full strength, the pressure around me should at least be at the Soul Emperor level.
I deliberately toned down the pressure on Dai Mubai and the others, putting it right at their limits so they couldn't speak.
But I haven't imposed any restrictions on the pressure around myself.
Little Yang is right beside me, yet he can speak with perfect composure and even stand up.
It hasn't even forced out his Martial Soul.
Is this really the strength of someone who just became a Soul Ancestor?
Could it be...
Was Little Yang telling the truth about building up deeply before bursting forth?!
"Huh?!"
"Old man, what are you doing?!"
Yang Jian had been walking along calmly when he suddenly felt another layer of restraint settle over him.
It was clearly the pressure of a powerful expert.
The only people present with more Soul Power than him were Flender and Zhao Wuji.
Given how lawless Yang Jian usually was, even if he pushed Zhao Wuji too far, the man would only dare complain to Flender.
He wouldn't dare raise the difficulty without so much as a word.
So who besides Flender would release pressure against him at a time like this?
"Level sixty-seven!"
"You really withstood it!!"
Flender's eyes gleamed.
Without thinking, he added another two levels, only to find that Yang Jian still showed no reaction.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed the pressure straight up to-
level seventy-one!
"Are you ever going to stop, old man?"
"Keep this up, and don't blame me for beating you!"
Yang Jian frowned.
He had just acquired an excellent Fourth Soul Skill and was wondering how to test its power.
If Flender kept this up, he wouldn't mind making him the first person to taste his Fourth Soul Skill.
"Wonderful!"
"Wonderful!!!"
Flender was beside himself with excitement, muttering to himself without taking Yang Jian's words to heart at all.
He had discovered that Yang Jian looked completely untroubled even under level-seventy-one pressure.
Didn't that mean Yang Jian's overall strength had already far surpassed the Soul Ancestor level?
After all, no level-forty-one Soul Ancestor in this world had ever withstood the Soul Power pressure of a level-seventy-one Soul Saint.
Much less done so this easily, without even revealing his Martial Soul.
"Fine. You asked for it!"
"Come out, Xiaotian!"
As Yang Jian's words rang out,
Xiaotian, whom he had withdrawn into his body to absorb the Soul Ring, instantly appeared in midair.
Xiaotian was slightly larger than a palm, with clusters of dazzling golden dragon scales adorning his limbs and back. Even his soft, fluffy puppy tail carried a stronger hint of draconic grace.
The tuft near the base of his tail, in particular, had shed its ordinary dog fur and transformed into fine strands of dragon hair.
At first glance, he actually possessed a trace of the young-dragon majesty unique to true dragons.
"Fourth Soul Skill-"
"Sacred Dragon Tail Sweep!"
As Yang Jian's words rang out,
the fourth ring beneath his feet, a black Ten Thousand Year Soul Ring, suddenly flashed.
The tiny, adorable golden puppy erupted with golden light.
His entire body swelled to several times its original size. His tail, already imbued with draconic grace, transformed into a true dragon's tail several meters long.
The dragon tail moved.
With a blindingly fast sweep, it slammed into Flender.
In a single breath, it sent him flying clean out of everyone's sight.
"Phew..."
"I'm exhausted..."
"..."
With Flender's Soul Power pressure gone, everyone could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
The plump Ma Hongjun plopped straight onto the ground without the slightest concern for appearances.
Zhao Wuji looked toward the spot where Flender had been swatted away and rubbed his forehead.
He had no intention of chasing after him. Instead, to prevent another clash, he took the initiative to walk over to Yu Xiaogang.
He appeared to be fussing over their well-being, but in reality, he was leading Yu Xiaogang's group farther away to set up camp.
One reason he hadn't done this earlier was that he hadn't realized relations between Yu Xiaogang and the others could deteriorate so badly.
The other was his concern that, if they stayed too far apart, he wouldn't be able to protect the children from Shrek Academy.
Now, with Yang Jian here, even a surprise attack from a ten-thousand-year soul beast could be stopped.
Naturally, Zhao Wuji shifted his focus to soothing their internal conflicts.
"Brother Yang, you really absorbed that eighty-thousand-year Soul Ring?"
"Of course. Don't you... wait, an eighty-thousand-year Soul Ring? Rongrong, did you take the wrong medicine?"
Yang Jian reached out and felt Ning Rongrong's forehead.
"Oh, I didn't say that. Look, it was that Fart God, Yu Xiaogang."
As she spoke,
Ning Rongrong deliberately glanced toward Yu Xiaogang, her mockery unmistakable.
"Pfft-"
Hearing the words "Fart God" come out of Ning Rongrong's mouth, even Yang Jian, a veteran at keeping a straight face, nearly lost it.
"Bastard Yang, cut the chatter. Hurry up and tell us-just how old is your fourth Soul Ring?"
Dai Mubai also walked over to Yang Jian with a smile.
Ma Hongjun scrambled up from the ground as well. "Yeah, yeah! Boss, tell us!"
"And how did you withstand the dean's level-sixty-seven Soul Power pressure just now?"
"It was more than that, Little Ao. This bastard didn't just withstand level-sixty-seven pressure. Look how excited the dean was! It had to be higher than sixty-seven-maybe sixty-eight or sixty-nine."
"Oh, right, another question. You..."
"Wait!"
Yang Jian waved a hand to interrupt them. "Are you ever going to stop? Every last one of you-do you really think I'm an encyclopedia of a hundred thousand whys?"
"Come on, Brother Yang~ Just tell us, please? You can start with the first question."
Before you continue