Dugu Bo couldn't help but freeze for a moment at the sudden flash of light in Tang San's eyes. "Little monster, you're not feverish, are you? Didn't you understand what I just said? Those Soul Bones are not something you should covet."
Tang San didn't answer. Words could be deceiving, but seeing was believing. He raised his right hand, and a faint blue light surged from his palm. Under his precise control, only a single, slender strand of Blue Silver Grass emerged from his palm—it was merely in its grass-blade form, looking no different from wild Blue Silver Grass. The appearance of his Martial Soul caused his Soul Rings to naturally manifest outside his body.
Yellow, yellow, purple, black—four Soul Rings silently spiraled outward. The yellow rings gleamed with brilliant light, the purple ring exuded an air of noble majesty, and the black ring was as deep as an abyss stretching down ten thousand fathoms, filled with a fearsome allure.
"You—" Dugu Bo shot to his feet, his gaze toward Tang San shifting rapidly in an instant. A sharp, piercing aura erupted from within him, pressing in on Tang San from all sides.
Under the pressure from the outside, the four Soul Rings on Tang San's body blazed with intensified radiance, yet the Blue Silver Grass in his palm continued to sway gently.
"No. That's impossible." Dugu Bo rubbed his eyes hard, then shook his head, staring intently at the black Soul Ring on Tang San's body.
Tang San smiled faintly. "Have you forgotten? My specialty is turning the impossible into the possible. So—do you think I might stand a chance against Spirit Hall's people now?"
Dugu Bo drew a deep breath, slowly forcing down the shock inside him, and then said something Tang San had never expected. "Withdraw from this tournament. At your age, you still have the chance to compete in the next one. By then, no one should be able to match the team you lead."
"Why should I withdraw?" Tang San widened his eyes.
Dugu Bo spoke in a grave tone. "If your strength were still what it used to be, or if your fourth Soul Ring were only a thousand-year level, I wouldn't be worried about you. But this is different now. Your fourth Soul Ring has reached the ten-thousand-year level, and that will bring you endless trouble. Do you think Spirit Hall won't notice you? If you were Spirit Hall and encountered a genius like this, what would you do? There are only two possibilities—recruit or destroy. If my guess is correct, your profile is already sitting on the desk of at least one Platinum Bishop. Spirit Hall won't resort to underhanded methods behind your back. They can simply use this tournament to have you eliminated in broad daylight on the competition stage. Competition rules, to Spirit Hall, are nothing more than a game they can manipulate."
Tang San smiled bitterly. "So you're saying you still don't believe in me?"
Dugu Bo looked at him deeply. "Spirit Hall has three people known as the Golden Generation. I don't know the specifics—what their Martial Souls or Soul Skills are. But I can tell you one thing: among the three, the lowest Soul Power is at the fifty-first level, and the other two are at the fifty-second level. They're all only twenty-three or twenty-four years old. When they broke through to the fiftieth level and obtained their fifth Soul Rings, they were personally awarded Spirit Hall's Purple Record Medal by the Pope himself, setting a record in Spirit Hall's history. And the others who make up their team this time—none of them are below the forty-fifth level in Soul Power. That is everything I know."
Although Tang San had always known of Spirit Hall's strength, it was only at this moment that he truly understood just how terrifying they were.
Fiftieth level—and three of them at that—while the rest were all above the forty-fifth level. What did that mean?
Despite the confidence Tang San had in himself, what he was looking at now was indeed a chasm that seemed impossible to cross. The opponent's lowest level was higher than his side's highest. Could such opponents truly be defeated?
Seeing the dazed look in Tang San's eyes, Dugu Bo let out a sigh. "At your age, your current level is even more frightening than theirs, let alone the fact that you possess an External Soul Bone. Don't think too much about it. Opportunities will come. As long as you don't go down the wrong path, you will surpass them one day."
Tang San suddenly laughed. Perhaps it was because Dugu Bo's earlier wake-up call had untied the knot in his heart—at this moment, his mind was utterly clear.
"Old monster, didn't you just say it yourself? That for a Soul Master, confidence is of the utmost importance. If I were to avoid this battle, the blow to my confidence would be unimaginable. So what if I lose? Even if I can't beat them, can't we at least defend ourselves? Only by fighting with everything we have can we truly gauge the gap between us. I won't give up."
Looking at Tang San, something unconsciously stirred in Dugu Bo's eyes. "Forget it. I can't be bothered with you. Do whatever you want. I'm heading out first. I came all this way back and haven't even eaten yet. Time to find some food."
With that, a flash of green light flickered, and Dugu Bo's tall figure vanished without a trace.
Warmth spread through Tang San's chest. Dugu Bo had come to check on him the moment he returned—and that was definitely not for the sake of a few Mother-Child Pursuing Soul Life-Expelling Pellets. It was genuine concern for him. From the intense wariness of their earliest days to the complete lack of defenses now.
Though the gap in their ages was several times over, what Tang San felt from Dugu Bo was the same kind of emotion he felt from the Great Master—and perhaps even a few extra measures of the camaraderie between friends. This must be what they called a friendship that transcended generations.
After Dugu Bo left, the first thing Tang San did was not cultivate, nor was it to think. It was to sleep.
Two days and two nights without rest had already pushed his spirit to its limit. Without sufficient rest, how could he begin testing his theory? And so, he chose sleep without a moment's hesitation. And before long, he had drifted off into dreamland.
……