On the arena platform.
Xiao Tianhong stood proudly, his arms folded leisurely across his chest. A cold smile curved his lips as he fixed his gaze squarely on Long Fan.
"Kid, get off the stage. You're no match for me!"
"After all, my goal is to set my sights on the championship, and then..."
Confidence and defiance mingled in his words, every syllable carrying an unquestionable arrogance.
With that, Xiao Tianhong casually glanced at Zhu Zhuyun, who stood quietly nearby, and a flicker of desire crossed his eyes.
He liked strong-willed women like her.
Rather than becoming angry, Long Fan chuckled. His laughter held both indifference toward Xiao Tianhong's conceit and confidence in his own strength.
He slowly raised a finger and pointed lightly, straight at Xiao Tianhong.
"You don't win a championship just by running your mouth. You need strength!"
With that, Long Fan willed the surging Soul Power within him to pour forth.
A pair of blades shimmering with bloody light slowly formed in his palms, like bloodthirsty specters in the dark of night, radiating a heart-stopping aura of destruction.
Crimson patterns snaked across the blades, as though they contained the terrifying power to devour all things.
"Martial Soul: Blood Fiend Twin Blades. Level sixty-three Power Attack System Tool Soul Emperor!"
At the sight, Xiao Tianhong's lips curled in contempt.
"A mere level sixty-three dares talk back to me? I thought you were supposed to be strong!"
As he spoke, he flicked his sleeve nonchalantly, and an even greater surge of Soul Power rippled outward.
A longsword appeared out of thin air, lifelike dragon patterns coiling across its blade.
Its imposing might surpassed even that of Long Fan's Blood Fiend Twin Blades.
"Martial Soul: Battle Dragon Sword. Level sixty-nine Power Attack System Tool Soul Emperor. Show me what