Quarterfinals: Defeating a Soul Ancestor Above His Level

When the quarterfinal draw was posted, several rows of people gathered in front of the notice board.

Nan Feng stood on the outskirts of the crowd and glanced over the matchups. His opponent wore Spirit Hall's standard combat uniform. The entry read: Wang Chong, level thirty-eight Soul Ancestor, Earth-Splitting Tiger.

People behind him began talking.

"Someone from Spirit Hall. A level thirty-eight against a level thirty-five Soul Elder-isn't that bullying?"

"That independent cultivator with the Bronze Tower fought pretty well in his first two matches. What a shame."

"What's a shame about it? People from Spirit Hall are different."

Without looking back, Nan Feng committed the information on the board to memory and headed for the contestants' waiting area.

As he passed the passageway to the stands, he heard someone call his name.

Dugu Yan leaned against the wall of the passage, her purple ponytail flicking as she moved.

"Level thirty-eight Soul Ancestor, Earth-Splitting Tiger Martial Soul," Dugu Yan said. "A strength-type Beast Martial Soul with explosive power. Once he gets close, he'll be hard to shake off. How are you planning to fight him?"

"I'll see first."

Dugu Yan tilted her head.

"If you win, I'll buy you a drink. A new tavern opened in the east of the city."

Nan Feng nodded and walked into the contestants' waiting area.

Dugu Yan called after him.

"Don't get hurt. If you get crippled, my grandpa will definitely scold me."

The atmosphere around the arena was different from the previous matches.

There were nearly twice as many people in the stands as there had been for the first two matches.

Several referees sat on a raised platform.

Wang Chong strode up from the other end, taking long, heavy steps. He was in his early twenties and solidly built.

His Earth-Splitting Tiger Martial Soul formed a layer of earth-yellow shadow around him, its tiger head raised high and its claws pressing down in the air.

Earth-attribute Spiritual Power spread beneath his feet, making the arena floor tremble under his steps.

Four rings spun around him, two yellow and two purple: a standard Soul Ancestor configuration.

The referee announced the start.

Wang Chong did not charge. He folded his arms across his chest.

"Three rings, and you dare enter the individual competition's top eight?" His voice rang out. "Is that Bronze Tower of yours here to build houses for people?"

Someone laughed.

Nan Feng did not answer. He drew his right foot back half a step, lowered his center of gravity, and pulled the short staff from behind his waist, holding it in his right hand.

Wang Chong moved.

He charged faster than any opponent Nan Feng had faced. Earth-yellow Soul Power exploded beneath his feet, and he shot forward.

His right fist smashed out, wrapped in a solid tiger-claw projection that went straight for Nan Feng's chest.

Nan Feng activated Tower Suppression. A cyan halo spread from beneath his feet, covering five paces.

Wang Chong charged into the halo, and his speed was suppressed for a beat. His charge did not stop. The tiger-claw projection pushed two feet farther forward, his fist almost touching Nan Feng's chest.

Nan Feng turned sideways to avoid the frontal blow and swung his short staff across, smashing its tip into Wang Chong's shoulder.

Wang Chong grunted and staggered half a step before quickly regaining his footing.

He turned around, his expression somewhat more serious.

"Your Tower Suppression can suppress my speed, but it can't suppress my strength. Level thirty-eight against level thirty-five-a three-level gap in Soul Power. What are you going to fight me with?"

He charged again, faster than before. The tiger-claw projection solidified into an earth-yellow shield, and he forced his way forward against the suppression.

Nan Feng was driven back a second time. His back struck the railing, and blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

Wang Chong gave him no time to catch his breath. A tiger claw reached out from behind the shield and struck his shoulder, sending him flying.

Nan Feng rolled twice across the arena before he steadied himself. The fabric over his left shoulder had been torn open, and three bloody marks scored his flesh.

A Soul Master wearing a conical hat in the front row leaned forward and gripped the railing.

Dugu Yan straightened away from the wall, her purple eyes fixed on the arena.

Ye Lingling's perception swept over from the academy and lingered for a beat on the fluctuations of his Soul Power, confirming that he was not seriously hurt.

Wang Chong did not pursue him. He stood in the center of the arena.

"Three rings are still just three rings. You only won those two matches because your opponents were too weak. Against a real Soul Ancestor, you don't even have a chance to fight back."

Nan Feng rose from the ground, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and looked down at the wound on his left shoulder. The flesh had curled outward, and the blood had clotted into a dark red scab.

He worked his left shoulder, and his joints cracked several times.

His expression was calm, showing neither anger nor panic.

Then he moved.

He activated Tower Suppression and the Tower Realm at the same time. The cyan halo doubled in size, and warm light flowed within it.

Wang Chong felt the earth-attribute Spiritual Power he had released being devoured and transformed by that layer of warm light. His Soul Power was being consumed thirty percent faster than usual.

He frowned and poured all his Soul Power into his Earth-Splitting Tiger Martial Soul.

The earth-yellow tiger projection condensed into a giant tiger above his head. Its claws lunged forward and pressed down.

Fourth Soul Skill, Earth-Splitting Tiger Roar.

Nan Feng did not retreat. He pushed Tower Suppression and the Tower Realm to their limits at the same time.

The Power of Mountain Suppression poured out from the bottom of the tower. The cyan curtain of light condensed into a tower-shaped projection, which rose over his head to meet the tiger projection.

A muffled impact rang out. The tiger projection struck the tower projection, scattering earth-yellow Spiritual Power and cyan light in all directions. Several fine cracks spread across the arena's stone slabs.

The tower projection shook violently, its surface covered in a dense web of cracks, but it did not break.

Wang Chong had spent forty percent of his Soul Power reserves on his fourth Soul Skill.

As he stood in the Tower Realm, every additional breath he remained there meant more Spiritual Power devoured.

His expression changed. The Tower Realm was devouring his earth-attribute Spiritual Power, transforming it and feeding it back to Nan Feng. His Soul Power was being consumed faster than Nan Feng's. He would lose a drawn-out fight.

Wang Chong gritted his teeth and decided to end the fight quickly.

The Earth-Splitting Tiger Martial Soul erupted in a ring of earth-yellow shockwaves beneath his feet, shattering the surrounding stone slabs. He used the thrust to charge forward, the tiger-claw projection forming an even thicker shield as he forced his way through the devouring.

When he came within three paces, Nan Feng activated the External Soul Bone in his hand.

Five dark purple claw projections sprang from his fingers. Tiger Claw · Star Shattering slashed toward Wang Chong's right ankle.

Wang Chong was charging too fast to change direction in time. The claw projections swept across his right leg, cutting an opening in the protective Soul Power around his ankle, and blood seeped out.

He staggered, his charge faltering for a beat.

That beat was enough.

Nan Feng pressed the power of the Tower Realm down on Wang Chong. The cyan curtain of light condensed into a tower-shaped projection and smashed into his shoulders and back.

Wang Chong grunted as he was forced down onto one knee. The tiger projection dimmed under the devouring.

He had used up sixty percent of his Soul Power. Nan Feng's remained above seventy percent.

Nan Feng stepped forward. Bone Spikes sprang from his left arm, three dark purple points stopping in front of Wang Chong's throat.

The referee's whistle sounded.

Nan Feng won.

An old Soul Master in a gray robe stood up in the front row and applauded. Someone beside him began shouting, "Tower Master!"

Dugu Yan straightened away from the wall, the glimmer in her purple eyes brighter than before.

Nan Feng dismissed Tower Suppression and the Tower Realm. The Bone Spikes retracted, and the halo dissipated.

Wang Chong knelt on one knee in the arena, the wound on his right foot still bleeding. Part of his left shoulder had caved in where the tower projection had struck it.

He looked up at Nan Feng, unwillingness and confusion on his face, along with the bewilderment of having his understanding overturned. He opened his mouth but said nothing.

Nan Feng turned and headed for the arena exit.

Several reporters squeezed out of the passageway, and a young man holding paper and pen stopped him.

"Contestant Nan Feng, your Soul Ring Configuration is three rings at level thirty. Your first ring is over nine hundred years old, your second is twenty-one hundred years old, and your third is twelve thousand years old," the man said. "These figures far exceed Grandmaster Yu Xiaogang's theory that soul ring age limits cannot be surpassed. How do you explain that?"

Nan Feng paused and glanced down at the paper and pen in the man's hands, then swept his gaze over the spectators and reporters gathering around him.

On the outskirts of the crowd, at the entrance to the VIP passage, a woman with long golden-red hair leaned against the doorframe.

Liu Erlong wore a dark red combat outfit and held a cup of wine, her gaze resting on Nan Feng through the crowd.

When she heard the question, her hand tightened slightly around the cup.

Nan Feng withdrew his gaze.

"Grandmaster Yu Xiaogang's theory is wrong." His voice was not loud, but every word was clear in the quiet passage. "Soul ring age limits can be surpassed, as long as the power of suppression is strong enough. I proved it with my tower."

The reporter wrote furiously.

Nan Feng stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the people in Spirit Hall uniforms, and his voice grew a shade lower.

"So-called theory is nothing but theft dressed up."

Someone in the passage cried out softly. Some were shocked, some were angry, and some wore expressions of understanding.

Liu Erlong stood at the entrance to the VIP passage and lowered the cup from her lips. She stared at Nan Feng for two breaths. Her long golden-red hair slipped over her shoulder, and the old scar at the corner of her mouth twitched, as though she were smiling, or perhaps gritting her teeth.

She turned and walked into the VIP passage, her dark red figure disappearing into the shadows beyond the door.

Nan Feng made his way through the crowd toward the exit.

His Soul Power was level thirty-five. The crack in the third-floor door had widened another fraction during his fight against Wang Chong above his level, and the output of the Power of Creation had grown somewhat more substantial than before.

For the first time in public, he had named Yu Xiaogang and exposed him. Liu Erlong had heard it, and so had the people from Spirit Hall.

The matter would spread, reaching Shrek Academy and Yu Xiaogang's ears.

The words he had spoken today could not be taken back.