Join my Patreon to be 30 chapters ahead of the webnovel releases:
patreon.com/ZeroMoney
I would appreciate your help if you could join my Patreon and support me because it would keep me motivated.
******
On the arena, Zhu Zhuqing's figure flickered like a phantom, moving so swiftly that it was almost impossible to follow.
Ning Wuchen's expression grew grave, completely unable to track her movements.
He had originally believed that with his 51st-level Soul King strength and the control abilities of his Martial Soul, he could restrain Zhu Zhuqing, an Agility-type Attack Soul Master.
Yet, Zhu Zhuqing's speed far exceeded his expectations.
Even when compared to other agility-type Soul Kings, she was in no way inferior.
"Damn it… I didn't expect her speed to be this fast!"
Ning Wuchen cursed inwardly, sweat beading on his forehead.
The hand holding the Seven Prison Soul Suppression Tower trembled slightly from the severe consumption of his soul power.
His combat style differed from that of a power-type attack soul master.
Unlike weapon or beast-type Martial Souls that could strike directly, his attacks relied on activating soul skills each time.
As a result, his soul power drained rapidly.
Thus, in his battle with Zhu Zhuqing, Ning Wuchen's advantage in soul power was not as significant as it seemed.
Zhu Zhuqing, hearing the cheers from the stands, knew that Oscar had already claimed victory.
"Oscar has won, so I can't fall behind! After this period of probing, I've already gauged the control range of his soul skills."
She understood that while Ning Wuchen's Martial Soul control was powerful, its area of effect was quite small.
As long as she kept moving at high speed, his soul skills were effectively useless.
With this in mind, Zhu Zhuqing's gaze shifted toward another arena.
At that moment, Oscar was waving excitedly at her, shouting words of encouragement.
"Thank you, Oscar. I absolutely will not lose!" she silently vowed, deciding to take the initiative.
In an instant, her first soul ring glowed brightly.
She then surged forward like a black lightning bolt, carving a bizarre arc toward Ning Wuchen.
Her speed was dizzying, leaving dozens of afterimages across the arena.
Ning Wuchen's heart jolted at the sight, and he hastily activated the Seven Prison Soul Suppression Tower.
"Second Soul Skill—Suppress!"
Before the words had left his mouth, an invisible force field materialized, intending to pin Zhu Zhuqing down.
However, Zhu Zhuqing's figure halted abruptly, evading the field before instantly dashing in the opposite direction.
"Damn it!" Ning Wuchen cursed under his breath, his expression growing darker.
Yet, a cold smirk flashed through his mind.
A sharp gleam flickered in Zhu Zhuqing's eyes as she accelerated toward Ning Wuchen.
However, just as she came within ten meters of him, the wind around her suddenly began to howl violently.
"Finally, you've fallen for it! Fourth Soul Skill—Bind!"
Ning Wuchen's triumphant voice echoed, as if he had been waiting for this moment.
In an instant, the raging wind around Zhu Zhuqing condensed into thick, rope-like cords, binding her limbs tightly.
"Got you!"
A ruthless glint appeared in Ning Wuchen's eyes. Without hesitation, he retrieved the Zhuge Divine Crossbow from his Soul Tool.
"Die!"
He slammed down the trigger. With a whoosh, dozens of steel crossbow bolts gleaming with a cold light shot toward Zhu Zhuqing.
The tips of the bolts were coated in a black liquid—they were clearly poisoned.
This move was undeniably vicious.
Ning Wuchen's sudden use of a hidden weapon, a breach of martial ethics, drew immediate ridicule from the audience.
"Is this really a disciple of the upper three sects? So much for noble conduct."
"A Soul King fighting a Soul Ancestor and he still needs to rely on external tools? Truly an eye-opener."
"Shameless! Absolutely shameless!"
Yet Ning Wuchen completely ignored their jeers.
"Hmph, a bunch of frogs in a well. Who cares if my reputation is ruined? Compared to a hundred-thousand-year soul bone, fame is nothing more than a passing cloud."
Reputation? Could it bring the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect a hundred-thousand-year soul bone?
Ning Wuchen was supremely confident. As long as he defeated Zhu Zhuqing and eliminated the threat of an agility-type soul master, he would be the champion of this exchange tournament.
At that point, the hundred-thousand-year soul bone might not be his, but he could at least dream about the fifty-thousand-year one.
After all, a hundred-thousand-year soul bone was an item coveted even by Titled Douluo; a mere Soul King like himself wouldn't be so delusional.
However, Zhu Zhuqing had long suspected that Ning Wuchen was carrying hidden weapons.
During the seating tournament, nearly every disciple of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect had carried them.
As the sect's chosen representative for the tournament, how could he possibly not have some hidden up his sleeve?
"Is that so? You want to kill me? You're not capable enough!"
Zhu Zhuqing sneered. Her body, bound by the wind ropes, suddenly turned illusory—it was merely an afterimage.
"What?!" Ning Wuchen's pupils constricted, his mind reeling in shock.
With a series of soft thuds, the crossbow bolts pierced through the afterimage, causing it to dissipate completely.
Panicked, Ning Wuchen searched for Zhu Zhuqing's true location, only to feel a bone-deep chill shoot up his spine from behind.
Her real body had appeared behind him at some unknown moment.
"Not good! Fifth Soul Skill—"
Zhu Zhuqing gave him no chance to activate his fifth soul skill. Her own fourth soul ring flared, and in a flicker of black light, she swiped her claws viciously at his back.
"Slash!"
A tearing sound echoed, followed immediately by a blood-curdling scream.
Ning Wuchen's back was ripped open, and crimson blood instantly soaked his tattered clothes.
Allowing him no chance to breathe, Zhu Zhuqing unleashed a torrential storm of attacks.
Her claw strikes were like the Grim Reaper's scythe, each swing drawing a spray of blood from Ning Wuchen's back.
Before the audience could even process what had happened, Ning Wuchen collapsed into a pool of his own blood, and his life force slowly faded.
The stands fell silent for a beat, then erupted in deafening cheers.
Victory of the weak over the strong—everyone was stunned by Zhu Zhuqing's performance.
A 42nd-level Soul Ancestor had actually defeated a 51st-level Soul King. It was simply unbelievable!
Lan Minghua smiled faintly, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.
He turned to Feng Xiaotian and Shui Bing'er and said calmly, "Well? Your Second Senior Sister's strength didn't disappoint you, did it?"
Feng Xiaotian and Shui Bing'er exchanged a look of utter shock.
Both were the top prodigies of their generation at the Elemental Academy and had believed they had few rivals among their peers.
They had never imagined that Oscar and Zhu Zhuqing, who were younger than them, could be so powerful.
Feng Xiaotian had always considered himself a genius, proud of his innate full soul power and his self-created soul skills.
But only after becoming Lan Minghua's disciple did he realize he had been a frog in a well.
He exclaimed with sincere admiration, "Master, Second Senior Sister is incredible!"
Shui Bing'er nodded in firm agreement.
Lan Minghua nodded and turned his gaze back to the arena.
Then he said lightly, "Don't be so amazed just yet. Your Third and Fifth Senior Sisters haven't even performed."
Hearing this, Feng Xiaotian and Shui Bing'er straightened up, their expressions serious as they continued to watch the battles.
Lan Minghua, however, wasn't focused on the stage. Instead, he was observing the expressions of Gu Rong and the others with great interest.
Their faces were a true spectacle.
"Before the tournament even began, you were already discussing how to divide the prizes for the top three. In the end, not a single person from your three families even made it into the top eight. It's truly laughable."
Meanwhile, in the room occupied by Gu Rong, Tang Xiao, and Yu Yuanzhen, the atmosphere was exceptionally grim.
Gu Rong's face was dark as he said coldly, "Damn it. All of our people have been defeated. Only Lan Minghua's disciples and the people from Spirit Hall are left."
"In that case, let the plan begin. In the end, reputation is written by the victors, is it not?"
The three men exchanged a meaningful glance and sent messages to their respective subordinates.
The encirclement was set to begin.
(End of Chapter)