The tournament was in full swing.
Although veteran powerhouses such as Shrek and the Clear Sky Sect were present, along with a rising dark horse like the Mingyu Sect, the other teams would not simply shrink back. Even if the top three were out of reach, fighting for fourth or fifth was still worthwhile.
The prestige of the All-Continent Soul Master Tournament was beyond question. Setting aside Shrek Academy's ten-thousand-year monopoly on first place and the fierce struggle for second, any academy team that made the top sixteen became a target for recruitment by the various powers.
For hot-blooded youths, defeating their opponents and winning glory under countless watching eyes was an irresistible temptation, too.
But after the clash of dragon and tiger between the Clear Sky Sect and the Mingyu Sect on the first day, the remaining matches seemed much less exciting.
Even though few teams dared hold back their trump cards in the elimination rounds, Soul Kings were hardly the norm. Only three or four teams out of ten had one. After tasting the finest fare-the might of a battle between two Titled Douluos-even the spectators had developed picky palates.
The cheers were no longer as fervent as they had been at the start.
For teams led by mere Soul Ancestors, the cheers were sporadic and listless. Academies and sects that dragged things out, unwilling to surrender despite fighting like chickens pecking at each other, hurried sheepishly off the stage once a winner was finally decided.
"They're so bad..."
Wang Dong'er stretched.
A pale blue dress hugged her delicate body, outlining her graceful figure in the sunlight. Her arms were slender yet strong, and despite all the time she spent beside the Furnace, her skin remained white as snow rather than taking on the dark complexion of other