Chapter 307: Suppression with a Single Strike
Oakland Battle Arena
As the tournament continued, the audience's cheers filled the arena, with excited murmurs about the performances on stage.
"The gap between the second team and the first team is still too big," someone sighed.
Oakland Academy, having grown stronger over the years, had now formed two teams, much like the Heaven Dou Royal Academy.
"Especially that Wang Lin—he's practically the new Dai Yao! He can single-handedly take down an entire team," a spectator said, eyes fixed on a confident figure on the battle stage.
Hearing this, Dai Yao glanced at the young man in the arena and couldn't help but smile. Wang Lin's spirit was a rare mutated fire dragon, almost as powerful as a top-tier spirit, and his spirit power had reached forty-fourth rank. Dai Yao estimated Wang Lin was on par with the talents of someone like Huo Wushuang from five years ago.
Dai Yao didn't know why, but it seemed as though the previous generation's tournament had brought together all the peak talents of several years. Because of this, this year's talent pool felt somewhat weaker. Even in the Spirit Hall team, the strongest contestant was only at rank forty-nine.
In the current tournament, Wang Lin stood out as one of the best, even if he'd only been a top-tier fighter in the previous generation. The current Oakland team boasted only three Spirit Ancestors, three fewer than Dai Yao's team had had.
With little suspense, Oakland's first team crushed the second team, and Wang Lin proudly stood at the forefront, basking in the cheers of the audience.
"My spirit power is now the same level as Dai Yao's was five years ago. Whatever he could do, I can do too!" Wang Lin thought excitedly, leading his teammates with a triumphant expression.
Outside the ring, Feng Qianli looked at Wang Lin's self-satisfied expression and shook his head, disappointed. He knew that Wang Lin was chasing after Dai Yao's legacy, aiming to become the next Dai Yao. Yet the generally weaker talent pool meant Wang Lin hadn't encountered a true rival, feeding his arrogance and blinding him to the potential opponents beyond the academy.
In reality, Wang Lin wasn't as strong as he thought. Had he competed five years ago, he might have been a core team member but would have struggled to make it past the qualifiers, let alone defeat entire teams. He was nowhere near Dai Yao's level.
Feng Qianli couldn't help sighing. If things continued like this, Wang Lin's arrogance would only hinder his progress. Yet without an opponent of equal or greater strength to humble him, Feng Qianli couldn't break his arrogance. His thoughts turned to Dai Yao's swift victories over rival teams back in their glory days.
"Five years have passed… Dai Yao, I wonder how you're doing in Spirit City?" Feng Qianli thought as he watched Wang Lin. In his mind, Wang Lin's figure blurred with a memory of the ambitious young Dai Yao.
After the match, the Oakland team members exited the stage, still basking in the excitement. As they walked behind their team leader Feng Qianli, the seven young members watched his steady presence with admiration, feeling as though he was as unmovable as a mountain.
"Leader, how did we perform today?" a lively young girl bounced up behind Feng Qianli, eyes shining with anticipation.
The rest of the team waited for Feng Qianli's response, all of them eager to know his thoughts on their performance, especially Wang Lin.
Feng Qianli paused, his heavy footsteps creating a small gust. Turning to face them, his eyes—deep like a bottomless pool—swept over each member's expectant face. Yet, faint disappointment flickered in his gaze as he asked, "Do you really want the truth?"
The seven teammates exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, the young girl spoke hesitantly, "Yes, please tell us the truth, Leader."
He studied their faces for a moment, then spoke, voice weighted with sincerity. "You're all indeed among the academy's elite, each talented in your own category. But across the continent, there are countless other young spirit masters who would outshine you…"
Wang Lin's brow furrowed, and he interrupted, his voice filled with irritation. "Leader, I know you won the tournament last time, and we respect that. But we're not naive. We've won every single inter-academy match. This year, we're aiming for nothing less than the championship!"
"You say there are stronger spirit masters, but we don't agree," Wang Lin continued, with several others nodding in agreement, casting skeptical glances at Feng Qianli.
Feng Qianli's face darkened slightly, his tone patient but stern. "It's true that you're all highly talented for your age, with few equals in this tournament. But in the grand scheme, you're still far from the top."
He continued, "Forget about surpassing someone like Dai Yao—even someone like Huo Wushuang would be out of reach for you. Arrogance only paves the way for a harder future. Don't limit your vision to this tournament alone but focus on your entire journey as spirit masters."
One of the team members scoffed, "Leader, isn't that a bit harsh? We've beaten everyone we've come up against, even the Five Elemental Academies. Our captain could match Dai Yao from your team."
The others nodded, looking at Feng Qianli with pride. Wang Lin, particularly, held a smug expression, clearly agreeing with their praise.
Feng Qianli sighed, seeing their inflated egos. "You don't understand Dai Yao's true power…" He wanted to challenge them himself to bring them down a notch, but these youths weren't weak. Beating them all would take every ounce of his strength, and even that might not be enough to impress upon them his point.
"If only Dai Yao could be here," Feng Qianli thought, frustrated. "He'd teach them a lesson they'd never forget."
Just then, his gaze drifted over the audience, pausing as a familiar figure caught his eye. A flicker of recognition passed through him, and he looked closer, scanning the seats.
Beneath a dark hooded cloak, he saw them—a pair of brilliant golden eyes. Eyes he knew too well.
It was Dai Yao.
Even in disguise, Feng Qianli recognized him instantly, and a rare smile broke out across his face.
The team members were taken aback, never having seen Feng Qianli smile before. He turned to them and said, "Alright, since you're so confident, how about a little test?"
Everyone turned their attention toward him eagerly.
"See that man in the black cloak?" Feng Qianli said, pointing at Dai Yao. "If you can beat him, I'll admit I was wrong and personally apologize. How about it?"
The team followed his gaze, frowning at the cloaked figure. The young girl's voice piped up, "Leader, are you serious? You think a random spectator could beat us?"
Her words were met with agreement from several others, though Wang Lin and the control-type spirit master noticed something amiss. They knew their leader wasn't one to issue casual challenges without reason.
"Well? Do you accept the challenge or not?" Feng Qianli said, a hint of mirth in his gaze. He knew this fight would serve as a humbling lesson, one they sorely needed.
Gritting his teeth, Wang Lin led his six teammates back to the arena. Under the curious eyes of the crowd, he fixed his gaze on the black-cloaked figure, calling out, "Hey, you in the cloak—do you dare to fight me? It's an honor just to face me!"
In his eyes, there was no need for the entire team to participate—he alone was more than enough.
The students who hadn't yet left were already puzzled by the Oakland Team's decision to reenter the arena. Hearing Wang Lin's words only added to the commotion.
Who was Wang Lin?
He was the strongest assault-type soul master at Oakland Academy, unmatched across all of Heaven Dou City. Yet, he openly challenged the man in the black robe.
Who was this black-robed figure?
All eyes turned to Dai Yao, trying to guess his identity.
Under the scrutiny of the crowd, Dai Yao shook his head, stood up, and walked down from the stands. He approached Feng Qianli and said helplessly:
"It wasn't easy for me to come back to the academy, and now you've dragged me into this. You even want me to fight in a match. Back in the day, I was already exhausted from all the battles, and now, the moment I return, I have to fight again…"
Feng Qianli clapped Dai Yao on the shoulder, his eyes full of joy at reuniting with an old friend. He didn't expose Dai Yao's identity and instead smiled:
"Don't complain. Who told you to join the Spirit Hall and take Zhu Zhuqing and Feng Wutong with you? Without you three, the academy hasn't had anyone to keep these arrogant ones in check."
"Since you're back, lend me a hand. Teach them a lesson and give them a memorable defeat."
Dai Yao couldn't help but laugh:
"With a team leader like you, it's no wonder they're unlucky—getting someone to discipline them. Fine, but I won't hold back…"
Feng Qianli grinned:
"Good. I'd also like to see how much you've grown in these five years. Don't let me surpass you."
"Alright."
Dai Yao stretched his arms and smiled in agreement. Under the curious gazes of the crowd, he slowly walked onto the arena platform.
Anyone who could chat so casually with Feng Qianli was obviously no ordinary person.
Many of the spectators who had been about to leave now paused, returning to their seats with renewed interest, eager to see the upcoming match.
Even if the outcome seemed obvious, witnessing the Oakland Team in action was still a treat.
Wang Lin's eyes were fixed on the black-robed figure, trying to analyze his opponent's strength. Yet, to him, the man looked no different from an ordinary person.
Once the black-robed figure stepped onto the arena, Wang Lin finally spoke:
"Hiding under that robe—are you ashamed of how ugly you are?"
Beneath the black robe, Dai Yao chuckled softly. Pulling the brim of his hood lower, he replied with amusement:
"Does a soul master battle have anything to do with looks? Why don't you all come at me together? That way, no one can say I bullied you."
His words caused an uproar. Students who had already left the arena now flocked back, like ants to sugar, curious about the commotion.
"You…"
A spirited young woman arched her brows, clearly offended. To her, Dai Yao's words were nothing short of an insult.
Wang Lin glanced at the black-robed man, then at the excited Feng Qianli. Gritting his teeth, he declared:
"Fine, we'll all take you on together!"
"Captain!"
His words drew immediate disapproval from the others. They were all prodigies among their peers, each with their own pride.
From the man's voice, it was clear he wasn't much older than they were. For seven of them to gang up on a peer was nothing short of humiliating.
Little did they know that when Dai Yao had competed in the last tournament, he had been several years younger than the average participant. Even now, he was eligible to compete in this year's tournament—he simply chose not to.
In truth, his age was nearly identical to this year's Oakland participants.
"Since the team leader said so, we'll listen to him."
Reluctantly, the rest of the Oakland Team fell silent. Feng Qianli's authority still held weight in their minds.
With no other choice, the Oakland Team took their positions, forming a classic battle formation. Their control-type soul master stood at the center, while Wang Lin led the vanguard in a sharp assault—the same spearhead strategy used by the Oakland Team of old.
Seeing this, Dai Yao couldn't help but feel nostalgic.
"Begin the battle!"
Acting as the referee, Feng Qianli announced the start of the match.
"Brothers, activate your martial spirits!"
At Wang Lin's command, yellow and purple spirit rings lit up the arena, drawing cheers from the audience. Seven different martial spirits appeared, working together seamlessly—an impressive sight, even for a Soul King.
Suddenly, Wang Lin's gaze sharpened. Staring at the black-robed figure who remained motionless, he asked coldly:
"Are you not going to activate your martial spirit?"
A calm voice responded from beneath the black robe:
"With your strength, I don't think I need to."
"Arrogant!"
Unable to suppress his anger any longer, Wang Lin roared:
"Let's see how strong you are! Third Soul Skill—Flaming Dragon Claw!"
The third spirit ring lit up as molten flames coursed over Wang Lin's body. His arms transformed into dragon claws as he charged at Dai Yao.
The fire trailing from his claws scorched the granite of the arena, leaving shallow pits in its wake. The sound of rushing wind ignited a wave of cheers from the crowd.
To them, Wang Lin was their Dai Yao—a hero they believed in. They eagerly anticipated him overwhelming this enigmatic figure.
"A Fire Dragon martial spirit, and decent control of fire elements. But that's about it."
Dai Yao's detached voice carried across the arena.
As Wang Lin closed in, swinging his Flaming Dragon Claw, Dai Yao slowly raised his right hand. With a casual swipe, his counterattack landed first.
Wang Lin's pupils constricted as he hurriedly blocked with his dragon claws.
To his shock, the seemingly ordinary hand effortlessly shattered his Flaming Dragon Claw and struck his chest.
Thud!
A muffled impact echoed as Wang Lin groaned in pain, his face twisting. Like a cannonball, he flew backward, slamming into the arena wall.
The audience's cheers fell silent. They stared, dumbfounded, at Wang Lin sprawled on the ground, utterly defeated.
At that moment, the black-robed figure moved again.
No one saw how he moved—one second he was standing still, and the next, he was at the center of the Oakland Team's formation.
The control-type soul master's stunned expression froze as he saw the black-robed figure before him. Panicking, he unleashed his soul power, shouting:
"He's in the center! Surround him!"
The other team members, startled, turned to see the figure standing there, hands clasped behind his back. They couldn't comprehend how he'd reached the center so quickly.
Without using his martial spirit, the only explanation was his sheer speed.
Speed beyond the naked eye—a terrifying thought.
"You reacted well, but your strength is lacking."
The black-robed figure's calm voice sounded again. Then, in a blur, he vanished.
One by one, the Oakland Team's members were struck down, sent flying into the walls to join Wang Lin.
Only the young support-type soul master remained, clutching her healing staff, trembling with fear.
"Will you leave on your own, or shall I send you down?"
The black-robed man lowered his hand, standing tall. The silence in the arena was deafening, his cold voice echoing through the space.
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