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Chapter 2: A Duel to the Death
The shrill, blood-curdling scream of their companion jolted the two remaining guards back to their senses. Terror clutched at their hearts; their courage was shattered. Realizing they could no longer hold back, both men hastily released their Martial Souls.
Two Soul Rings rose slowly from beneath their feet—pale light radiating in the dim corridor. One of them bore two white rings, and as his Martial Soul was released, a long sword appeared in his hand—plain and unadorned, yet exuding a faintly cold glint.
The other guard's Soul Rings were one white and one yellow. Brown fur spread swiftly across his arms and neck, his figure swelling slightly as bestial strength poured forth. It was difficult to tell what kind of Beast-type Martial Soul he possessed, but the feral aura around him was unmistakable.
With a roar, the beast-souled guard swung his arm, his fist slicing through the air with a shrill whistle as he punched toward Huo Yuhao. The other guard's first Soul Ring flared with light; a dim glow enveloped the broad blade in his hand as he followed close behind, slashing downward with lethal intent.
Before reaching the rank of a true Soul Master, a person's physical strength differed little from that of an ordinary human. However, Huo Yuhao's body glimmered faintly with dark blue radiance, his Soul Power bursting forth. The difference in raw might was made up by his combat instincts—refined through countless battles and rebirths. Now, he relied on that accumulated experience to utterly crush his opponents.
He bent low, narrowly evading the beast guard's incoming punch. In the same breath, he lunged forward—meeting the sword strike head-on. His hand flashed, and a gleam of cold light appeared.
The White Tiger Dagger in his grip arced upward diagonally, intercepting the sword with a shriek of metal on metal. Sparks burst between the two weapons, a grating sound echoing in the night before the long sword jammed against the dagger's edge.
In that instant, Huo Yuhao slammed into the guard's chest. The man stumbled backward, completely off balance. Before he could recover, an agonizing pain erupted from his wrist, followed by a piercing scream.
"Ahhh!"
Blood sprayed. The dagger pierced through his wrist as easily as slicing through tofu.
Feeling the man's panicked struggle beneath him, Huo Yuhao's gaze grew colder. Gripping the dagger with both hands, he twisted it viciously.
A wet, tearing sound echoed. Scarlet blood splattered across the ground, and the guard's wrist went limp—his tendons severed. His sword clattered to the floor as his entire arm convulsed uncontrollably.
Expressionless, Huo Yuhao pulled out the dagger, straightened, and turned his head toward the last remaining guard.
The final guard trembled violently, his face pale as ash. At that moment, every fiber of his being screamed that this—this boy—was no ordinary six-year-old.
This was supposed to be a child with only first-rank Soul Power! What kind of monster was this?!
But retreat was impossible. If anything were to happen to Dai Huabin, the young master, death would be a mercy compared to what awaited him.
He let out a desperate roar, his body surging forward. The second yellow Soul Ring beneath him lit up, silver-gray light spreading over his brown fur. His defense was instantly reinforced.
It might not be enough to withstand that dagger's terrifying edge, but at least it gave him hope of surviving more than a single strike.
The distance between the two vanished in a heartbeat. Huo Yuhao raised the dagger once again, thrusting directly toward him. This time, a faint golden sheen shimmered over the blade's surface.
The guard instinctively brought up his arm to block. The dagger met his defense with a dull sound—like a blade stabbing into hardened leather. The strike bit deep, but failed to pierce through completely.
Exactly as he had anticipated. Gritting his teeth through the pain, the guard reached with his other arm, aiming to grab Huo Yuhao by the throat—
—but before he could make contact, a surge of terrifying spiritual energy exploded from the wound where the dagger had struck. The power poured into his body like a flood, striking straight into his mind.
It was as if an invisible hammer had slammed into his skull. His consciousness reeled. His vision swam. Pain like an explosion tore through his brain.
Huo Yuhao, already anticipating the effect, did not hesitate. He wrenched the dagger free and swung it across in one smooth motion.
A thin crimson line appeared across the man's neck. Blood welled up, seeping between his fingers as he instinctively tried to clutch the wound. His mouth opened, but no sound emerged—only a strangled, hoarse gasp.
Under Huo Yuhao's emotionless gaze, the man toppled lifelessly to the ground.
Six-year-old Dai Huabin stood frozen in place. He had never seen such a gruesome sight before. Having only recently awakened his Martial Soul, he could do nothing but stare as Huo Yuhao cut down all of his guards, one after another, the White Tiger Dagger glinting with cold light.
His limbs felt as though they were cast from lead—he couldn't even move a finger.
When the last guard fell, Huo Yuhao slowly straightened, his chest rising and falling. His azure-blue eyes glowed faintly in the darkness—eyes that seemed deep enough to devour the soul.
The boy beside Dai Huabin was equally pale, his lips trembling.
"Y-you… you're not Huo Yuhao…"
Huo Yuhao arched a brow, his instincts sharpening. He stepped forward, each movement steady and deliberate.
Dai Huabin stumbled back instinctively, the arrogant pride he once carried replaced entirely by raw fear. His voice shook as he grasped at words, desperation creeping into every syllable.
"You… you can't kill me! You'll regret it! The Duke's Mansion and my mother—my mother will never let you go! She'll hunt you to the ends of the continent! Both you and your mother will die!"
Huo Yuhao paused for a moment—then smiled faintly.
"Yes," he said softly. "The Duchess… truly is capable of something like that."
Step by step, he approached. The glow of golden light once again flickered around his clenched fist.
"Do you know?" Huo Yuhao's tone was calm—almost gentle. "In one's lifetime, there are three gifts that every person receives."
With a dull thud, his fist crashed into Dai Huabin's face. Blood spattered, the boy sprawling helplessly to the ground.
"The first gift," Huo Yuhao said evenly, "is what your mother teaches you."
Golden light gathered in his eyes as his Spiritual Power erupted—crashing violently into Dai Huabin's Sea of Consciousness. The agony that followed stripped away his awareness.
"The second gift," Huo Yuhao continued, his voice echoing distantly in the boy's ears, "is what society teaches you."
The White Tiger Dagger plunged downward, piercing Dai Huabin's palm as he tried to push himself up.
"The third gift," Huo Yuhao whispered, "is the future—the one thing that can only be shaped by your own hands."
He crouched, grabbing the boy by his blond hair, forcing him to meet his gaze. The icy blue in his eyes shimmered like a predator's glare, freezing even Dai Huabin's trembling body.
"I truly don't understand," Huo Yuhao murmured, "where your blind confidence comes from… the arrogance that makes you think you can kill whomever you please."
"Perhaps it's because of the world you were born into—the Duchess shielding you from every hardship, everyone around you revolving around you as if you were the sun itself. It made you believe everything in this world already belongs to you… and what doesn't yet, soon will."
He tilted his head slightly, his tone calm yet cold enough to freeze the air.
"But unfortunately… because of you—and because of your mother—I have become your enemy. Which means…"
"…your third gift is me."
"Because of me, everything you once depended on will be stripped away. Perhaps one day you'll grow wiser… but remember this."
"When you hear my name, you will tremble. When you see my face, your legs will weaken. When you hear my voice, you will wish only to run."
Huo Yuhao leaned close, his whisper brushing against the boy's ear like the murmur of a devil.
"From this day forth… I am your nightmare."
The spiritual backlash and trauma of that moment would burn itself into Dai Huabin's soul—an eternal scar he could never escape.
"And all of this," Huo Yuhao said quietly, "began with your so-called 'fight to the death.'"
As his words faded, he twisted the dagger still embedded in Dai Huabin's palm. The boy's scream was strangled before it could leave his throat—cut off by a vicious kick that sent him collapsing into darkness.
His face swollen and bloodied, Dai Huabin finally lost consciousness.
Only then did Huo Yuhao turn his gaze to the last trembling youth nearby. The boy forced a shaky grin—the same sycophantic smile he had once shown Dai Huabin—though now it looked utterly pitiful.
"Y-you… you're a transmigrator too, aren't you?"
(End of Chapter)