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Feng Xiaotian looked toward the spectator stands in confusion, his gaze falling on the section where the Divine Wind Academy was seated.
At that moment, a middle-aged man stood there, who bore a strong resemblance to Feng Xiaotian.
It was none other than his father, Feng Qingyuan, the dean of Divine Wind Academy.
A trace of helplessness flashed in Feng Qingyuan's eyes. His lips moved slightly, his voice condensed into a thin line of sound as he transmitted a message to Feng Xiaotian: "Xiaotian, concede."
Feng Xiaotian's heart trembled, his eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at his father.
It was the first time he had ever seen his father show such weakness, and he couldn't understand why he was being told to admit defeat when he clearly held the absolute advantage.
To clarify the situation, he transmitted his own reply: "Father, why? Tang San is merely a Soul Elder. If not for your interruption, I would have already won."
Feng Qingyuan sighed softly.
His gaze swept across the seats of the Upper Three Sects before he closed his eyes and continued to transmit his voice.
"Xiaotian, you're no longer a child. You must understand that the world isn't just about fighting and killing—it's about human relationships and worldly matters."
"Divine Wind Academy exists under the protection of the Heaven Dou Empire, and the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan has close ties with the Empire. Tang San is not only their son-in-law but also a direct descendant of the Clear Sky Clan."
"If you defeat him, you'll be striking at the face of both the Upper Three Sects and the Heaven Dou Empire. Your moment of glory may well bring destruction upon Divine Wind Academy."
Hearing his father's words, Feng Xiaotian clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms.
With Feng Qingyuan's reminder, he understood his father's powerlessness.
When he raised his eyes toward the Upper Three Sects' seats, he saw Bone Douluo staring back coldly, his gaze brimming with threat.
Yu Yuanzhen, on the other hand, wore the expression of one watching a play, as though he had already predicted how this match would end.
"So that's how it is…"
Seeing the powerful figures seated among the Upper Three Sects, Feng Xiaotian gave a bitter smile, his heart filled with endless sorrow.
He had thought that with his strength, he could shine brilliantly in the Soul Master Tournament.
But now he realized the so-called tournament was nothing more than a stage for the Upper Three Sects to display their dominance.
Soul Masters from smaller academies like his were nothing more than foils.
On the arena stage, Tang San took advantage of Feng Xiaotian's distraction to regulate his breathing, his eyes flashing with a trace of viciousness.
He was fully aware that Feng Xiaotian's lapse in concentration had been caused by outside interference.
If not for that, he would have already been defeated.
As someone who cared deeply about his pride, how could Tang San ever accept such a humiliating handout?
But now that he was alive, his only thought was how sweet the deal actually was.
He pressed a hand against the still-bleeding wound on his chest, and the look he cast toward Feng Xiaotian was filled with unrestrained killing intent.
He roared inwardly: "Feng Xiaotian, you are courting death!"
Unconsciously, Tang San's hands fell to his waist, resting on the soul tool brimming with hidden weapons, ready to launch a sneak attack at any moment.
As for the now-obsolete Twenty-Four Moonlit Bridges, he had already destroyed it.
Meanwhile, the spectators and contestants who had already advanced watched the stage in confusion.
They could not understand why a battle that had been raging so fiercely had suddenly come to a halt.
Feng Xiaotian exchanged a bitter smile with his father. From his father's eyes, he saw only helplessness.
Now that he was in his twenties, he was no longer a naive child.
He naturally understood that the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan had exerted its influence, and Divine Wind Academy could only accept its fate.
Still, unwillingness boiled in his chest.
But what could his unwillingness change?
Divine Wind Academy was no match for the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan, let alone the combined weight of the Upper Three Sects and the Heaven Dou Empire.
Seeing his son's dejected expression, Feng Qingyuan felt deeply guilty.
As a father, he could not provide his son with even the slightest support.
All of this, however, was witnessed by Lan Minghua in the stands.
The arrogant oppression of the Upper Three Sects was something he could not stand to watch.
After all, he had offered a hundred-thousand-year soul bone as a prize for the tournament—not for the Upper Three Sects or Spirit Hall, but for Oscar and his disciples.
Feng Xiaotian was qualified to be his disciple. Accepting him would also serve to expose the hypocrisy of the Upper Three Sects, disgracing them in front of everyone.
Lan Minghua casually tossed aside the bone he was chewing on and stood up lazily.
That small gesture immediately drew the attention of everyone present.
Gu Rong felt a bad premonition but lacked the strength to stop Lan Minghua.
Rubbing his round belly, Lan Minghua looked at Feng Xiaotian and spoke loudly: "Oi, handsome, want to be my disciple? As long as you acknowledge me as your master, I'll guarantee the safety of Divine Wind Academy."
The words fell like a thunderclap, shocking the entire arena.
All eyes turned toward Lan Minghua, sensing something unusual was afoot.
Just moments ago, Feng Xiaotian had been on the verge of victory, only to falter inexplicably.
The weaker audience members didn't know what had happened, but they were certain some foul play was involved.
They widened their eyes, strained their ears, and fixed their attention entirely on Lan Minghua.
And he did not disappoint. He swept his gaze across the crowd before finally letting it rest on Gu Rong and Yu Yuanzhen.
Then, in his characteristically lazy tone, he said, "If certain ill-intentioned people dare to target Divine Wind Academy just because you win this match, don't worry—I'll kill them all."
The crowd immediately understood.
Even the slowest among them could grasp the implication in Lan Minghua's words.
Their gazes turned toward the seats of the Upper Three Sects and their disciples who had already advanced, their eyes filled with mockery.
In an instant, the faces of the disciples from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan, the Clear Sky Clan, and the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan all darkened like the bottom of a pot.
But they could not refute it. The truth was plain for all to see.
Feng Xiaotian was stunned. He had never imagined that Lan Minghua—the powerhouse who could casually offer a hundred-thousand-year soul bone—would want to take him as a disciple.
Though his heart surged with excitement, he still looked to his father for approval.
Feng Qingyuan nodded rapidly. Lan Minghua's reputation was well-known; perhaps this was the chance to change Feng Xiaotian's fate.
Seeing this, Feng Xiaotian no longer hesitated. He dropped to his knees in the arena and bowed deeply. "Disciple Feng Xiaotian greets Master!"
Lan Minghua nodded with satisfaction. With a casual wave, three soul tools flew into Feng Xiaotian's hands in full view of the crowd.
The three items were the Devouring Pouch, the Black Battle Armor, and the Triple Treasure Pearl.
Watching this, Tang San was filled with the urge to launch a sneak attack on Feng Xiaotian.
But when he tried to move, he found he couldn't even twitch a finger.
Feng Xiaotian accepted the three soul tools and kowtowed once more. "Thank you, Master."
Hearing the system's voice in his mind, Lan Minghua waved dismissively and said casually, "Continue the match. Don't hold up the others."
Feng Xiaotian nodded firmly, then rose to his feet and turned once more to face Tang San.
This time, his entire aura had changed.
The dejection from before was gone, replaced by unshakable confidence.
"Tang San, you won't be so lucky this time! Prepare to die!"
His third soul ring suddenly lit up. In the next moment, a pair of massive cyan wings unfurled from his back.
It was his third soul skill—Gale Twin Wings.
In a flash, his body blurred, appearing before Tang San almost instantly. His wolf claws, wreathed in razor-sharp wind blades, slashed down.
Tang San was prepared, but his pupils still shrank in shock at Feng Xiaotian's speed.
With the aid of his Purple Demon Eye and Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track, he narrowly dodged the attack.
His hands slid across the soul tool at his waist, unleashing a storm of hidden weapons that shot toward Feng Xiaotian like a Pear Blossom Storm.
The second round had begun.
(End of Chapter)