The clash of weapons shook the entire Spirit City. The reverberation was deafening, like the collision of two peak-level Titled Douluo. Even the arena itself cracked, spiderweb fractures spreading across the stage.
Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.
When the smoke finally cleared, the Haotian Hamr lay embedded halfway into the ground. The seven mbers of Shrek Academy were sprawled across the arena, unconscious—Tang San himself bleeding from all seven orifices.
Li Chang’an, by contrast, was down on one knee, his hand braced on the Pangu Axe. His black cloak was shredded, his right hand trembled slightly from the force of impact—but aside from that, he stood unscathed.
Before the stunned crowd could react, Ning Fengzhi swiftly took action.
The small pagoda in his hand spun three tis and floated forward, expanding rapidly as it rose into the air. Within monts, the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda towered ten ters tall, radiating a brilliant, multicolored light that bathed the square before the Pope’s Hall.
A thin beam of light shot from Ning Fengzhi’s brow into the pagoda, linking them in resonance. His entire body began to glow in harmony with his martial soul.
This was the True Form of the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda—the Nine Treasure True Body.
Beside him, Sword Douluo Chen Xin stood silently, his sword aura sharp and unfathomable, faintly encasing Ning Fengzhi in protective energy.
The pagoda’s divine radiance enveloped both Li Chang’an and Tang San, healing and stabilizing them simultaneously. Ning Fengzhi’s reasons were simple: though he favored Li Chang’an, his longstanding ties with the Upper Three Sects—and with Tang San’s lineage—ant he could not simply watch the boy die.
One strike.
No soul rings.
Only a martial soul—yet he had defeated the strongest tool-type martial soul in the world.
All eyes turned toward the man holding the pitch-black axe. His aura, his composure, his effortless dominance—everything pointed to a single, undeniable truth. Those who knew the na Li Chang’an now understood what kind of man stood before them.
The youngest Spirit Saint in Spirit Hall’s history.
The founder of modern soul tool theory.
The heir of the Li Chamber of Comrce.
The Pope’s personal disciple, one of only two.
The man the people hailed as a hero—the Holy Son of Spirit Hall.
Li Chang’an.
No wonder.
No wonder he was so confident, so untouchable.
No wonder he had spoken to her that way—Xiao Wu finally understood, her expression turning dazed and distant.
Liu Erlong, anwhile, was utterly shaken. ’How could this be? He’s the Holy Son... her disciple?!’
As for Huo Wu, embarrassnt burned so fiercely she wished she could burrow into the ground. ’So, in the end, I was helping his people all along...’
Shui Bing’er, on the other hand, felt only relief. That explains everything. With him around, even the Northern King’s threats are aningless.
The referee, recovering from shock, announced the result.
Then the instructor of Spirit Hall Academy stood and formally declared their withdrawal, conceding the championship.
But it hardly mattered. Everyone knew who had won.
And so it was made official: Crimson Rose Academy, led by the Holy Son Li Chang’an, had triumphed in the Continental Advanced Spirit Master Academy Tournant.
---
All the Titled Douluo and Pope Bibi Dong herself rose to their feet. Her expression was serene, yet a faint satisfaction curved her lips.
"The champion of this year’s Continental Advanced Spirit Master Academy Elite Tournant," she proclaid, her voice echoing across the mountain, "is Crimson Rose Academy. Congratulations, young geniuses of this era."
The eight mbers of Crimson Rose stepped forward in unison, forming a proud line. Behind them stood Liu Erlong and Miao Ling, sharing in the mont of glory.
With asured grace, the Pope accepted a velvet tray from a red-robed bishop. Her gaze lingered briefly, almost wistfully, on the three radiant soul bones atop it.
The red-robed bishop’s voice carried across the square:
"Crimson Rose Academy, step forward to receive your champion’s reward!"
Li Chang’an smiled lightly at the won beside him before walking toward the dais.
Before him stood Bibi Dong—serene, resplendent, breathtaking.
Majestic yet gentle. Elegant yet commanding. The years had not touched her; if anything, they had refined her beauty to sothing otherworldly.
’Perfect,’ Li Chang’an thought, amused. ’Just as I imagined... ti to "accidentally" brush her hand during the ceremony.’
Bibi Dong t his gaze, eyes shimring with warmth.
"You have done exceptionally well—beyond even my expectations," she said softly. "As your teacher, I am proud of you."
Li Chang’an bowed.
"Without your guidance, Teacher, I would not be who I am today. Thank you."
Bibi Dong smiled faintly as she handed him the tray, showing no hint of reluctance.
Li Chang’an returned to his team, announcing the division of rewards:
"The Wind-Chasing Left Leg Bone—perfect for an agility-type spirit master. Zhu Zhuqing, it’s yours."
"The Wisdom Skull of Spiritual Focus suits a control-type perfectly. Yi Yan, that one’s for you."
"As for the Fla Right Arm Bone, ideal for a fire-type power attacker... I’ll hold onto that for now. Rongrong, I still have another soul bone—this one’s for you."
He produced a seven-colored illusion-type skull bone, passing it to Ning Rongrong.
"It’s called the Illusion Wisdom Skull. It’s even more compatible with your martial soul."
Then, glancing toward the others—Mu Xi, Hu Liena, Ye Lingling, and Xiao Wu—he smiled apologetically.
"I owe you four this ti. I’ll make it up to you soon."
None of them protested.
Hu Liena, after all, was the Saintess of Spirit Hall—hardly lacking in resources.
Ye Lingling and Mu Xi were both mild and unassuming.
And Xiao Wu... well, Xiao Wu didn’t need soul bones.
---
Once the rewards were distributed, Bibi Dong nodded approvingly. She was about to officially conclude the ceremony—and perhaps privately drag this mischievous disciple back to the Pope’s Hall for a three-day "lesson"—when her eyes caught Liu Erlong’s gaze.
That soft look directed toward Li Chang’an made her frown ever so slightly.
’That woman too? Hmph. Even after all these years, she dares compete with ?’
Suppressing her irritation, Bibi Dong raised her scepter.
"Now, I declare—the Continental Advanced Spirit Master Academy Tournant is officially concluded!"
Her voice was calm yet thunderous, resonating across Spirit City.
But then—
A voice rang out. Rough. Bitter. Uninvited.
"Wait!"
A man in a tattered gray robe stepped forward, face gaunt and unshaven.
Bibi Dong’s eyes turned cold.
"What is it?" she asked icily.
Yu Xiaogang sneered, eyes filled with twisted delight. A surge of black light flared from his hand, exploding outward to blanket the entire square.
Instantly, every Titled Douluo present turned sharply toward one spot—Xiao Wu.
It lasted only a heartbeat, but that was enough. Their senses were razor-sharp.
That was the aura of a hundred-thousand-year spirit beast.
Yu Xiaogang’s smile widened.
"Don’t worry," he said mockingly. "This technique doesn’t harm anyone. It rely exposes what hides beneath the surface."
Then he raised his voice, turning to address the gathered crowd of masters and nobles.
"You all felt it, didn’t you? That girl—Xiao Wu—she isn’t human. She’s a hundred-thousand-year spirit beast in disguise. Tell , my lords and masters... do none of you feel tempted?"
The square fell utterly silent.
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