The reception hall of Tiandou Royal Academy gleamed with golden lacquer and jade tiles. Three middle‑aged elders stood waiting, their auras condensed like mountain peaks.
When Ning Fengzhi and Sword and Bone Douluo entered alongside Xiao Tian and the girls, the three men moved quickly from their positions, bowing slightly with practiced courtesy.
"Sect Master Ning, His Majesty Sword Douluo, His Majesty Bone Douluo," they greeted with smiling respect.
Ning Fengzhi raised a palm lightly. "Three Education Committee Elders, there's no need to be so formal. This time, we simply bring a few brilliant youths from Soto City. As for whether they pass, the trial lies in your hands alone—we shall not interfere."
He and Chen Xin at once took seats with calm poise, leaving the three Committee to bear witness to the new arrivals.
The Committee members had in fact received Chen Xin's private message last night. He had urged them to look carefully, to grant exceptions if warranted—especially for one youth among them. Xiao Tian.
They were skeptical then. This morning, skepticism began to crack.
The three released their martial spirits at once, introducing themselves formally to test aura against aura.
"I am Meng Shenji, Wuhun: Black Demon. Level 86, Control‑type Soul Douluo."
"I am Bai Baoshan, Wuhun: Sky Star Furnace. Level 85, Defense-type Soul Douluo."
"I am Zhi Lin, Wuhun: Azure Ivy. Level 83, Control‑type Soul Douluo."
The moment their spirits manifested, their soul power burst like storms. Waves of pressure poured outward.
Xiao Wu, Zhu Zhuqing, and even steady Ning Rongrong instinctively staggered back two or three steps. Their faces flushed under the sheer majesty of three Douluo pressing their souls upon them.
But in the middle, Xiao Tian stood solitary, body unstirred. Fifteen rested calm across his back. His cloak fluttered in the wind of power, but his feet did not move half an inch.
The three men felt surprise whisper subtly. He did not collapse into spirit release? Interesting. Still, their spirits sheathed again, pressure withdrawn.
Meng Shenji's eyes softened amiably. "Yesterday, we received Sword Douluo's letter in advance. Since you came personally today, let our doubts settle. Now—you four, present your martial spirits. As long as you meet standard, admission will be assured."
His gaze, however, lay heavily upon Xiao Tian. Rumors of a boy whose first ring was millennial—absurd, yet Sword Douluo vouched it.
One after another, Xiao Wu displayed her Soft Bone Rabbit spirit, Zhu Zhuqing her Nether Cat, and Ning Rongrong unfurled the Seven Treasures Glazed Pagoda in palm light. All drew murmurs.
But when their heads turned to Xiao Tian—
He did not hesitate.
Shing!
Sword Fifteen appeared seamlessly in his hand, black iron shining with subtle gleam. And circling his body: four glowing purple spirit rings.
The hall froze.
Simultaneous gasps. The three elders, Soul Douluo veterans, staggered forward an incredulous step.
"Four thousand‑year rings?"
Their eyes glistened as if they'd seen treasure long buried. They clapped openly, abandoning restraint. "Excellent! Outstanding! From today, all of you are students of Tiandou Royal Academy—Xiao Tian, you shall directly be given resources as if to the First Team of the Academy!"
Their delight was unconcealed. With this boy's participation, their chances in the Continental Soul Master Tournament rose spectacularly.
Yet suddenly, Zhi Lin's expression sharpened. His long fingers tapped the air once.
"Xiao Tian," he said with genial smile, though intent flickered beneath, "to assure ourselves of your potential, I wish to make a small test. Don't worry—I will not duel you. I will only release my soul power pressure upon you. You withstand it as best you can. That is all."
Ning Rongrong's heart jumped. Xiao Wu bit her lip. Zhu Zhuqing's eyes narrowed.
But Xiao Tian simply sheathed Fifteen and stood, tone light.
"Come, then."
"Brother…" Xiao Wu whispered anxiously.
He smiled over his shoulder. His voice was warm steel. "Don't worry, Xiao Wu. Do you still doubt my strength?"
Her chest eased. She remembered—her brother was no longer a Soul Sect in truth, but a Soul King level existence clad in sword intent.
Zhi Lin approached, palm opening. A steady stream of soul pressure unfurled—a level approximate to rank 38. Enough to smash bones of most Soul Sects.
Normally, a soul master with no spirit revealed can withstand only two‑thirds of their level. For Xiao Tian, a child of twelve, such was proper.
But Xiao Tian stood, utterly impassive.
Why so little? He thought silently. His physique, strengthened endlessly by system‑reforged thousand‑year rings, and the daily forging under Xuanyuan Sword Sutra, was beyond mortal threshold.
So his lips curled faintly. "Elder Zhi Lin, no need to be cautious. Bring it directly from level sixty. I can bear it."
The hall buzzed instantly.
Zhi Lin frowned. "Do not be rash. With your body as Soul Sect, Soul Emperor's weight will crush your meridians!"
From the side, Gu Rong whispered unhappily, "Fengzhi, this boy is arrogant. Overreaching."
But Chen Xin chuckled low, eyes like lightning on Xiao Tian. "Just watch, old bone. You may be surprised yet."
"You'll eat your words," Gu Rong huffed.
Zhi Lin looked to Ning Fengzhi's calm nod, then gritted his teeth. "Very well. But speak if you cannot!"
BOOM—!
Level sixty pressure erupted like a storm, shattering tables, scattering scrolls. Dust billowed. Xiao Wu and the girls staggered; Gu Rong flashed forward, shielding them behind his back.
"Careful," he muttered, eyes still wary.
In the storm, Xiao Tian clenched fists—but his body still stood. His martial soul had not yet even erupted. He bore it with only flesh. His blood veins thrummed like drums.
Zhi Lin's eyes widened. Still standing?
"Impossible," he whispered. But pride stung. He poured more.
Sixty‑one. Sixty‑two. Sixty‑three…!
At last, Xiao Tian's Fifteen sang violently, unsheathing in shimmering phantoms. Sword shadows spun, forming semi‑circular barrier around his frame. They clashed against the pressing aura with a metallic clang!
Shockwaves reverberated. Zhi Lin himself was pushed half a step back by the rebound ripple.
"What…?" He grunted. "This sword shield? Anti‑shock force?"
Intrigue lit his gaze, yet fire burned. Smiling fiercely, he raised pressure higher, soul rings blazing.
"Seventy. Test this!"
He summoned his Azure Ivy spirit at last, binding himself against backlash.
Xiao Tian gritted his teeth, sweat pouring. His breath heaved, yet his eyes shut in fierce concentration. Deep within, Xuanyuan Sword Sutra circulated madly.
Now… use this moment.
The pressure and sword intent blended, crashing against his meridians, forcing them wider, deeper, burning open. A rare opportunity for internal forging—he embraced it.
"Unbelievable…" Zhi Lin muttered. "His physique… monstrous!"
Level seventy‑two! he pushed.
Xiao Tian's knees buckled an inch—the crowd gasped. Then silver flared—
From his back burst blades of light. Ethereal Wings of the Sword. The external soul bone that once flickered weak… now bloomed with aura of twenty thousand years.
Sword wings spread, gleaming shield blossoming like steel petals to intercept the final pressure.
"External… soul bone!?" Zhi Lin staggered back, instantly withdrawing aura. His laughter barked. "Boy, you're not just a monster—you're evil!"
Meng Shenji slammed palm on table, his old eyes blazing with joy. "Excellent, excellent! With Xiao Tian reforging our Academy, the championship will finally return to Tiandou! Spirit Hall… let's see your face then!"
For a century, only Star Luo seized one surprise victory. The rest belonged to Spirit Hall. But now—with this boy—hope surged.
Chen Xin smirked, elbowing Gu Rong. "Well, old bone. How does crow taste on your tongue?"
Gu Rong snorted, but his eyes betrayed reluctant awe. For once, he had no rebuttal.
And Ning Fengzhi? His smile thinned but deepened—awe beneath restraint. Glancing at Xiao Tian, words whispered in his heart: If only, child. If only you could be mine as son‑in‑law…
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