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With a single command from Tang Xiao, the entire arena fell silent.
Those contestants who had just been fighting to the death halted at once under the oppressive might of a Titled Douluo.
Hearing the order, Oscar unwillingly gave up his pursuit of Tang Long.
Among the participants in this soul master exchange tournament, Tang Long possessed the highest soul power.
Next came the individual matches, a contest resting entirely on personal ability.
Although methods beyond martial souls could be used, most such tricks could not help one leap realms to defeat a stronger foe.
Of course, soul bones, soul tools, and concealed weapons were exceptions.
"Just a little more—if I'd only badly injured him, the pressure on us in the upcoming individual matches wouldn't be so heavy." Oscar shook his head and sighed.
Even so, he was not discouraged. Pressure bred motivation.
One should not aim too high without foundation; anyone who could advance to the individual matches was, without exception, a genius.
Lan Minghua also recovered his composure at this time. He had no objection to Tang Xiao stepping in to stop the bout.
After all, those were the rules of the exchange tournament.
The contestants who had failed to seize a seat token left the stage one after another, sullen and disappointed.
Though they had not advanced to the individual bracket, they were at least grateful to be alive.
Lan Minghua took in the scene with his own eyes.
Gazing at the remaining competitors still standing on the platform, he stretched lazily and murmured, "Finally over? Still, there are quite a few geniuses."
He activated his system's talent-rating detection; his gaze sharpened, sweeping openly over each of the qualifiers.
The talent ratings of those contestants appeared directly before Lan Minghua's eyes.
"The upper bracket's entrants are a bit ferocious. I wonder whether Oscar and Zhu Zhuqing can hold them off."
Lan Minghua narrowed his eyes, fixing his attention on several people.
[Name: Tang Long.]
[Age: Twenty-six.]
[Martial Soul: Clear Sky Hammer.]
[Soul Power: Rank Fifty-Three.]
[System Talent Rating: Eighty-Six.]
...…
[Name: Yan.]
[Age: Twenty-three.]
[Martial Soul: Lord of Flame.]
[Soul Power: Rank Forty-Nine.]
[System Talent Rating: Eighty-Six.]
...…
[Name: Ning Wuchen.]
[Age: Twenty-nine.]
[Martial Soul: Seven Hells Suppressing Soul Pagoda.]
[Soul Power: Rank Fifty-One.]
[System Talent Rating: Sixty-Six.]
...…
[Name: Feng Xiaotian.]
[Age: Twenty-two.]
[Martial Soul: Gale Twin-Headed Wolf.]
[Soul Power: Rank Forty-Two.]
[System Talent Rating: Eighty-Two (Eighty-Seven).]
Seeing the ratings of these three, Lan Minghua nodded, more or less in agreement.
"Tang Long, as Tang Xiao's stepson—by the time Tang San returned to the Clear Sky Sect in the original story, Tang Long was already a Soul Sage. With such talent, this is no surprise."
"Yan is one of Spirit Hall's Golden Generation. There's still more than a year before the Continental Advanced Spirit Master Elite Tournament; being at rank forty-nine now is by no means low."
What puzzled Lan Minghua were Ning Wuchen and Feng Xiaotian.
Lan Minghua stroked his stubble and squinted. "Ning Wuchen? Never heard of him. And his martial soul isn't the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda—so he's likely a collateral disciple of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect. Twenty-nine and only a rank-fifty-one Soul King—his talent truly isn't impressive."
He had no impression of Ning Wuchen at all.
Even so, it was obvious this man had been sent as the sect's representative.
After all, a hundred-thousand-year soul bone was enough to make even a Titled Douluo drool with desire.
Though the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect was an auxiliary sect, there was no way they would sit idly by and do nothing.
However, when Lan Minghua looked at Feng Xiaotian's system rating, confusion arose.
"Why does Feng Xiaotian have two ratings? One reads eighty-two, the other eighty-seven."
Feng Xiaotian was one of the rare prodigies from Douluo Continent's First Academy, born with innate full soul power.
With the Gale Twin-Headed Wolf—no worse than a top-tier beast martial soul—he should not be any weaker than Dai Mubai.
Though he had wasted much time developing his self-created soul skill, the Thirty-Six-Slash Gale Demon Wolf, it still shouldn't leave him with only an eighty-two rating, should it?
Perplexed, Lan Minghua asked inwardly, "System, what's the matter with Feng Xiaotian's two talent ratings?"
[Ding. Talent is not fixed. The score in parentheses is Feng Xiaotian's upper-limit rating; the other is his real-time rating.]
[A person's talent is affected by age, diligence, resources, and other factors. Thus Feng Xiaotian's current rating is only eighty-two.]
With that explanation, Lan Minghua understood the meaning of the two scores.
He shook his head, a trace of regret in his eyes. "Self-created soul skills are precious, yes—but you've thrown away a great gift for a trivial gain. Feng Xiaotian, you've truly picked up sesame seeds and dropped a watermelon."
No wonder a prodigy born with full innate soul power would fade into the crowd. In the end, he had only himself to blame.
Lan Minghua stopped wasting time on Feng Xiaotian and turned his gaze to the others.
In the upper bracket, aside from those few just noted, sixty percent of the qualifiers were direct disciples of the Upper Three Sects, most with soul power around rank forty-five.
Even so, one very conspicuous Soul Elder stood out in the upper bracket—
Tang San.
Protected by disciples of the Clear Sky Sect and the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, Tang San was merely going through the motions in the seat-seizing stage.
Thus his concealed weapons had not yet been exposed.
Even for Lan Minghua, it was impossible to know how many hidden weapons Tang San had manufactured at this point.
Not that it mattered—his concealed weapons could not break the defenses of the Three Treasures Beads and the Blackfight Armor.
So Tang San was, in the end, nothing more than a jumping clown.
Lan Minghua did not linger on the upper bracket and shifted his attention to the lower bracket.
The lower bracket's contestants were no less formidable.
There were Spirit Hall's Golden Generation—Hu Liena and Xie Yue—one at rank forty-eight, the other at rank forty-nine.
The Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect had also dispatched a rank-fifty-three Soul King to contend for the championship.
Beyond them were Tianshui Academy's Shui Bing'er, and the Tianhuo Academy pair Huo Wushuang and Huo Wu—all of whom had successfully advanced to the individual matches.
As a side note, Huo Wu and Shui Bing'er had system talent ratings of eighty-one, while Huo Wushuang lagged slightly behind at seventy-eight.
Lan Minghua found these talents acceptable.
If possible, he would not mind taking them as disciples.
Of course, he would not force the matter—he would leave it to fate.
High above the arena, Tang Xiao finally let out a breath when he saw Oscar withdraw.
He still intended for Tang Long to win the exchange tournament and claim that hundred-thousand-year soul bone for the Clear Sky Sect.
That way there would be no uneven distribution of spoils to fracture the newly repaired trust with the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect and the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Sect.
Since the other two sects had also sent their own candidates, there would be no question of unfair division; strength would decide who claimed the prize.
Seeing that only those bearing seat tokens remained on stage, Tang Xiao's sonorous voice rang out once more:
"Contestants, engrave your names upon your seat tokens and place them into the boxes for the upper and lower brackets beneath the stage. In half an hour, we will draw lots for the individual matches."
The contestants had not expected the schedule to be so tight. They hurried to inscribe their names, deposited the tokens into the appropriate boxes, then sat down to adjust their breathing.
Soon, half an hour passed, and the individual rounds of the exchange tournament officially began.
Lan Minghua wanted Oscar and the other three to sweep the top four, so he naturally would not give the Upper Three Sects any chance for back-room manipulation.
If there was to be manipulation, he would be the one to manipulate it.
Then, under everyone's gaze, he slowly rose to his feet.
Lan Minghua swept his eyes around the arena and said to the crowd, "In that case, allow me to draw each contestant's opponent."
(End of Chapter)