At the same time, he had grown quite fond of Tang San as well. In terms of raw talent, this Tang San was even superior to Dai Mubai. It was just that his Martial Soul was somewhat weaker at birth — otherwise, there was no telling whether he might become an unrivaled powerhouse in the future.
Zhao Wuji clenched his right fist and drove it into his left palm with a helpless sigh. "Consider me unlucky. How did I end up running into such a little hedgehog? Looks like I'll have to train him properly in the future. Jade can't become a gem without carving, after all." As he spoke those last words, an unmistakable hint of a sinister smile crept across Zhao Wuji's face.
"Zhao Wuji." Just as Zhao Wuji was mulling over how he would put Tang San through his paces in the future, a sudden voice froze the smile on his face.
After all, he was a seventy-sixth-rank Soul Saint — a high-ranking existence throughout the entire Soul Master world of Soul Land. His Soul Power had grown strong enough to form a peculiar energy field around his body, one that could clearly pick up the sound of a single leaf falling within a hundred-meter radius. Yet right now, he had sensed no one nearby, and this voice had pierced straight into his ear, sounding as though the speaker were right beside him. This level of power immediately put Zhao Wuji on high alert. He didn't recognize the voice, but he could be certain that the speaker was no weaker than himself.
"Who's there?" Zhao Wuji shot to his feet, a cold gleam flashing through his eyes. Back in his days in the Soul Master world, his reputation hadn't exactly been spotless, and he had accumulated no shortage of enemies. He had enjoyed years of relative peace while lying low at Shrek Academy — he never expected that a powerful opponent would suddenly appear at a time like this.
"Come out." A faint, almost imperceptible thread of aura locked onto Zhao Wuji.
Without a moment's hesitation, Zhao Wuji vaulted through the window and landed outside. He surged his Soul Power to its peak, remaining on guard while scanning his surroundings for any sign of movement.
Who was Zhao Wuji? The Immovable Bright King — a man who had once killed without number. Being provoked by an unknown opponent like this, combined with the frustration he had been bottling up all day, sent fury roaring through him. He planted his feet and shot forward in the direction indicated by the aura, closing the distance at a rapid pace. In short order, he had crossed beyond the bounds of Shrek Academy and entered a stretch of woodland. The trace of aura vanished precisely at this spot.
"Come out. I know you're here." Zhao Wuji's deep voice rang through the trees. At the same time, he completed his Martial Soul Possession in an instant. Seven Soul Rings orbited his body, pulsing up and down and blazing with resplendent light — and those three black Thousand-Year Soul Rings in particular were profoundly, almost terrifyingly dark.
A figure in black emerged slowly from behind a towering tree. The person was shrouded head to toe in black garments, with a black hood pulled over the head as well. From appearance alone, one could only discern that he was a tall man.
"Who are you?" Zhao Wuji barked in a frigid tone. Having completed his Vigorous Vajra Bear Martial Soul Possession, his entire body radiated a wild, intimidating aura — commanding authority without so much as a show of anger.
The black-clad figure did not answer directly. He simply said in a level voice, "Coming upon the Immovable Bright King in such a small place as this, I simply wanted to exchange a few moves with you. It has been a long time since I stretched my limbs."
As he spoke, the man slowly raised his right hand. In an instant, a beam of dark light coalesced in his palm, transforming into an enormous weapon. At the same time, a full nine Soul Rings materialized silently around him — two yellow, two purple, and five black. Unlike Zhao Wuji's rings, which pulsed rhythmically, these nine Soul Rings hung motionless at various positions around his body, enveloping him completely. Nine Soul Rings were a terrifying sight in their own right, and his final ring in particular seemed to hold a faint crimson glow within its black depths.
Had the Great Master been present, he would have recognized at once that even among Thousand-Year Soul Rings, the gap could be enormous. A ring born from a Soul Beast that had cultivated for ten thousand years and a ring born from one that had cultivated for ninety thousand years could hardly be compared. That reddish tinge within the black indicated that the ring had reached a minimum of ninety thousand years.
Watching the nine Soul Rings appear around the black-clad figure, Zhao Wuji felt as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him, sending a full-body shudder through his frame. As a Soul Master of the Saint rank, he understood better than anyone the gulf that separated high-level Soul Masters. Above the sixtieth rank, even a gap of a single level meant a meaningful difference in power — let alone a full stage. On the surface, the gap between him and the man before him appeared to be roughly twenty levels, but he knew full well that the distance between them was even greater than the Soul Power gap between himself and Tang San.
"Titled Douluo." The four words came out with difficulty, and Zhao Wuji's Immovable Bright King Body trembled visibly. If he himself was a high-ranking existence among Soul Masters, then a Titled Douluo stood at the absolute pinnacle.
All traces of his earlier bravado vanished in an instant. Zhao Wuji hurriedly bowed. "May I ask which senior has graced me with their presence? Please, there's no need to joke with a lowly one like me. How could I be worthy of exchanging blows with you?"
The black-clad figure replied mildly, "What's this about worthy or not? You were bullying those children just fine earlier today, weren't you? I discovered that the feeling of bullying people is rather pleasant. So let me bully you for a change. Of course, you're welcome to think of this as me picking on the weak."
Without releasing any overwhelming aura, the man simply held that massive weapon and walked toward Zhao Wuji, one deliberate step at a time.
Zhao Wuji's mind raced. There were only a handful of Titled Douluo on the entire continent — every single one was a figure of renown. The Titled Douluo before him was clearly a Weapon Martial Soul user, and those who cultivated a Weapon Martial Soul to the Titled Douluo level were exceedingly rare. Who could he possibly be?
Suddenly, the black-clad figure halted ten meters away from Zhao Wuji. "Since you're already here, you might as well come out. What difference does it make — one or two?"