The referee outside the field naturally wasn't just there to stand and watch. Seeing the incoming catastrophe, he immediately moved to intervene—but perhaps through carelessness, perhaps from lack of battle experience, or perhaps simply to dramatize the sheer power of a fusion ring skill, the man—a six-ring Soul Emperor, no less—charged in without even activating his martial soul.
That… did not go well.
Under the shockwaves of Xiao Xiao's fusion skill, even a Soul Emperor without protection could not emerge unscathed. If not for luck, he would have been seriously injured.
Fortunately, from the spectator stands, Elder Xuan Zi finally deigned to act.
The greasy, jovial elder lifted one hand lazily—yet his presence alone silenced the air. The golden light blade Wang Dong had unleashed froze midair as though caught by invisible force, drifting obediently into Xuan Zi's outstretched palm.
A soft pop echoed—like a balloon bursting. The light shattered instantly.
Without another glance, Xuan Zi turned and walked away, chicken leg in one hand, wine gourd in the other. Wang Yan hurriedly followed behind him.
The referee, drenched in cold sweat, straightened and hastily announced, "Winner—Team Wang Dong, advancing to the next round!"
The match had ended so quickly that many teachers hadn't even realized what had happened. Barely a few dozen seconds—and a team led by a Soul Elder had been utterly crushed.
The stands fell silent.
On the stage, Huo Yuhao patted Wang Dong's pale shoulder and said calmly, "Come on, let's go. Rest and recover your soul power while we have time."
Wang Dong and Xiao Xiao nodded weakly, leaning on him as they exited the arena.
Huo Yuhao said lightly, "Not bad. We conserved energy better than expected."
"Easy for you to say," Wang Dong grumbled. "My soul power's nearly drained! He was just a Soul Elder, sure, but he had thousand-year rings—same as me! I could've handled him head-on!"
Huo Yuhao smiled faintly. "A lion still uses full strength even when hunting a rabbit. Whether the fusion ring skill is a trump card or not doesn't matter—when absolute victory is possible, concealment means nothing.
Real battle isn't about clinging to petty gains or losses—it's about securing the strategic direction that guarantees the final victory.
If we'd tried to outlast a defense-type Soul Elder in endurance, we'd have wasted too much energy. Better to strike first, strike decisively."
He raised a finger. "True combat is the art of exploiting your advantages and avoiding your weaknesses."
"Alright, alright!" Wang Dong groaned, rubbing her head. "Please stop preaching. You lead the tactics—I'll just follow orders. Don't start lecturing me on strategy again; my head hurts already."
Huo Yuhao sighed helplessly. After three months together, he knew her well. Simple-minded when she wanted to be, stubborn when it mattered.
Xiao Xiao, however, listened quietly, eyes shining. His words resonated with her deeply.
Not chasing short-term gain… establishing direction instead…
She thought of her second martial soul, and how recklessly she'd nearly attached a soul ring to it. Huo Yuhao's earlier advice now made perfect sense—power without foresight was self-destruction.
From that day on, her understanding of tactics subtly shifted: more efficient, more decisive—and, some might say, more ruthless. Because in truth, only the victor earned the right to speak.
Huo Yuhao's reasoning, simple by the standards of his previous world, was revolutionary here—on a continent where people rarely thought. From Shrek Academy outward, his influence would quietly reshape the way battles were fought.
The next rounds passed swiftly. Their quarterfinal and semifinal matches were effortless victories.
Now, on Sea God Island, beside the tranquil waters, Wang Yan once again stood respectfully beside Xuan Zi, who gnawed lazily on a chicken leg.
"Interesting," Xuan Zi mused. "That girl Wang Dong may be listed as captain, but the real commander is that little brat with the body-type martial soul."
He chuckled. "The fight ended too fast. Either that kid is recklessly bold, or he has complete confidence in his control.
To let both main forces unleash full power right at the start—if not stupidity, then absolute self-belief."
Wang Yan remained silent, listening as Xuan Zi continued:
"I've heard about yesterday's match. My guess? The boy's the latter—one who trusts his own judgment completely."
After finishing the last bite of chicken, Xuan Zi clapped Wang Yan's shoulder. "Keep an eye on those three. Consider them potential candidates for special cultivation. We'll see if they can make it all the way."
"Yes, Elder Xuan," Wang Yan replied respectfully.
The old man waved him off and waddled away toward the Sea God Pavilion, humming tunelessly.
By the next afternoon, the semifinals had ended, and only the final battle remained.
Their opponents: Dai Huabin's team.
That name alone stirred the memory of deep resentment within Huo Yuhao's inherited soul.
He took a slow breath, his gaze calm, but a whisper echoed in his heart.
Don't worry, he told the original owner's lingering will. Since I've taken your place, your vengeance will be mine to repay—in full. No one will be spared.
For the transmigrator, this was a promise long made—since the moment he'd accepted Huo Yuhao's memories.
The boy whose body he now occupied had suffered greatly. In another world, had it been his own mother slain before him, he too would have sought vengeance at any cost.
Now, with power in his hands, he would see it done.
Dai Huabin and Zhu Lu's vaunted combination of Evil-Eyed White Tiger and Netherworld Civet—terrifying to others—was nothing special in his eyes.
"Both sides, step forward and report your names."
At the referee's command, the six contestants met at the arena's center, locking eyes.
Dai Huabin's gaze was cold and proud, radiating contempt. To him, none of his peers were true rivals.
The old memories stirred within Huo Yuhao's body—rage, humiliation—but his expression remained tranquil. His adult mind easily suppressed the storm of emotion.
Rage alone doesn't win battles, he thought. Only precision does.
After names were reported and rules restated, the teams moved to their starting points.
Huo Yuhao leaned toward his teammates. "That girl Cui Yajie—she's yours. Don't let her interfere. As for Dai Huabin and Zhu Lu—they're mine."
"What?" Wang Dong blinked, half in disbelief.
But Huo Yuhao's steady tone left no room for argument. After a pause, she nodded. "Fine. Just be careful. We'll finish quickly and back you up."
When both sides took their positions, the entire arena fell silent.
Among the onlookers were Yan Shaozhe and Qian Duoduo. The previous night, Qian Duoduo had privately approached Yan, asking to transfer Huo Yuhao into the Soul Tool Department.
Yan had refused. Such talent, he reasoned, belongs in my Martial Soul Division.
Still, a price could always be negotiated—and if Huo Yuhao won the championship or displayed something extraordinary, the conversation might change entirely.
"Begin!"
The match started.
Huo Yuhao and Dai Huabin lunged toward each other. The final arena was far larger than previous rounds—so large that even ranged techniques required closing the gap first.
As he moved, Huo Yuhao activated the slumbering power of the Skydream Iceworm within him. A thin veil of immense spiritual energy flowed through his body—enough to overwhelm most peers outright.
He didn't use it offensively; their auras were distinct, and he couldn't afford to reveal the Iceworm's signature presence.
Instead, he used it to stabilize his mind and body—because this battle was the stage for his latest creation.
The night before, he had completed debugging a new dual fusion circuit: a pair of overlapping spiritual impact pathways running through his skull and eyes.
With the Skydream's fine control, he had successfully embedded them—something no normal human could yet achieve.
These twin circuits weren't meant to fire soul skills directly. Instead, they acted as amplifiers—two spiritual lenses focusing and compressing his natural soul skill, Spiritual Impact, into a devastating spear.
Originally, his mental attack spread like water—scattered, diffused, losing strength with distance. Now, it would converge into a single, concentrated strike—sharp as a drill, heavy as a hammer.
With the circuits fully engaged, the power of his Spiritual Impact nearly doubled.
Of course, the backlash to his brain and eyes was severe—but with the Iceworm's energy buffering him, it remained within safe limits.
Through the Eye of Truth, he gauged the distance: ten steps… five… three… one—now!
A beam of pure, condensed spiritual force erupted from his pupils—so dense it seemed tangible.
Even as the attack launched, Huo Yuhao felt a sting behind his eyes—tiny ruptures forming despite the Skydream's support.
But before the pain could even register, his soul power surged to repair the damage—washing it away, leaving no trace.
The moment his attack struck—
—the true battle began.
(End of Chapter)