396. Hail Holy Son

"......"

Qian Renjue's murmurs came to an end.

The representative from the Star Luo Empire was about to speak further, but the soul master teams from the Heaven Dou Empire suddenly fell silent.

"What’s happening?!"

They could clearly feel it—a formless aura had locked onto them, sending shivers down their spines.

In an instant, a purple-black light burst forth from the center of Qian Renjue’s brow, almost engulfing the entire plaza.

At that very moment, every member of the Heaven Dou Empire’s team felt a surreal sensation wash over them. Their vision alternated between black and white, and when they came to—

They found themselves inexplicably moved to the outskirts of the plaza, outside the encircling formation.

"Whoa—!"

Everyone, including the guardian knights of the Pope’s Hall, let out gasps of astonishment.

Even the Pope and the others couldn’t help but change expressions. Sword Douluo nearly stood up in shock.

Clink!

Ning Rongrong stared in disbelief as the gemstone in her hand slipped to the ground.

"What’s going on?!"

"It’s him! The Holy Son of Spirit Hall! How did he do this?"

"But his martial soul isn’t even active!"

"What kind of soul skill is this? I’ve never heard of anything like it!"

Amid the uproar, almost no one noticed that Qian Renjue’s face had briefly turned pale before quickly regaining its rosy hue. He had almost fully recovered to his peak state.

The forced spatial transfer had drained him significantly—not only his soul power but also his mental energy had been nearly depleted.

If not for his first soul skill, which allowed him to rewind his own time by five seconds, Qian Renjue would have been too exhausted to continue fighting.

Luckily, the surrounding soul masters weren’t exceptionally powerful.

Qian Renjue closed his eyes and chuckled softly, ignoring the murmurs around him. Lowering his hands, he opened his palms and gazed at them nonchalantly.

“Everyone, you may now begin. Feel free to come at me with all your strength.”

"......"

All the participating soul masters fell silent.

At this point, they had completely given up any hope of defeating Qian Renjue.

The so-called title of "genius" they bore felt like nothing more than a joke in his presence.

“It’s over... completely over!” The Star Luo Empire’s representative staggered back a step or two.

Just moments ago, he thought the Holy Son of Spirit Hall was afraid of losing.

Only now did he realize—this Holy Son wasn’t afraid of losing. He was afraid of winning too easily, afraid the impact of his display wouldn’t be grand enough!

“Haha!”

Ning Rongrong giggled, almost leaping with excitement. Ning Fengzhi was still in shock and couldn’t stop her in time.

“Brother Holy Son is so cool! He’s even cooler than Grandpa Sword!”

Standing beside Ning Fengzhi, Sword Douluo’s face darkened slightly.

Fine, complimenting someone is all well and good—but why drag your Grandpa Sword down with you?!

At Qian Renjue’s signal, the red-robed bishop restrained the awe in his eyes and reminded the participants:

“Everyone, prepare yourselves. The match begins now!”

Hearing the command, the long-restrained geniuses seemed to find an outlet for their frustration.

Some shouted angrily to rally their spirits.

“Even if we lose, we should lose with dignity!”

“Let’s see his martial soul and soul rings!”

“That’s right!”

“Let’s go! Activate your martial souls!”

Buzz!
Over 140 soul masters surrounded Qian Renjue in the plaza, summoning their martial souls and soul rings.

The dazzling glow stirred even the guardian knights of the Pope’s Hall, making their hearts surge with excitement.

Their roars reflected the genuine emotions in everyone’s hearts.

If they were all to be defeated without even forcing him to show his martial soul and soul rings, it would truly be a disgrace. No one would dare claim the title of genius ever again!

“Third soul skill—Thunder Wrath! Fourth soul skill—Blue Lightning Divine Dragon Strike!”



"Fourth Soul Skill…"

The sounds of countless soul skills filled the air like a deafening roar.

Qian Renjue watched the first person to shout and strike. A glint of amusement flickered in his purple eyes.

A genius from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan, huh? How proud.

"Senior Brother, go for it!"

From the edge of the arena, Hu Liena cheered sweetly.

"Brother Holy Son—!"

Ning Rongrong also couldn’t help but join in, but Ning Fengzhi quickly covered her mouth.

Earlier, amidst the chaos, no one paid attention, but caution was always wise.

The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan still needed to maintain their cover, which might prove crucial in the future.

"Uncle Sword…" Ning Fengzhi turned to Sword Douluo, but before he could ask, Sword Douluo spoke solemnly:

"It’s a spatial ability—more refined than that old bone’s techniques."

"There seems to be something more, though…"

Sword Douluo muttered, watching Qian Renjue, who was about to be engulfed by countless attacks.

He had noticed earlier that after Qian Renjue used that technique, his aura weakened significantly—only to instantly recover to its peak. He couldn’t understand how.

Bibi Dong, however, knew exactly why. Her gaze held a mix of pain, pride, and satisfaction.

This battle would ensure that the name of the Holy Son of Spirit Hall would resonate throughout the soul master world.

Liu Erlong’s face flushed as Qian Renjue’s overwhelming strength filled her with excitement and pride.

Buzz!

A powerful gale surged around Qian Renjue, laced with terrifying lightning.

Marks left by attacks on him disintegrated under the vibrations of the lightning. The trajectory of incoming assaults was altered by the force of the wind.

"Ah—!"

While many soul masters focused on defending and dodging, only a few noticed the ground beneath them starting to form an electric grid.

The grid pulsed in circles, vibrating continuously. It even disrupted their soul power, hindering their ability to release soul skills.

After the sky thunder shook the area, Qian Renjue unleashed his large-scale attack skill: Thousand Thunder Flash!

A dense mass of lightning gathered in the air, exploding violently and raining down like a storm.

Caught up in frantic defense, no one had a chance to counterattack Qian Renjue.

"Damn it! How is this happening? Ah—!"

The captain of the Thunderclap Academy team was sent flying by a strike from Qian Renjue.

While the others endured the baptism of lightning, Qian Renjue moved leisurely through the battlefield using spatial shifts. No one could lay a hand on him.

He delivered finishing blows to promising soul elders and used mental power to deal with struggling soul masters.

To prevent unnecessary casualties, Qian Renjue limited his attacks to a level that soul experts could endure—causing only shock-induced unconsciousness, not burns.

"He’s over here!"

"No, over here!"

The instructors of various academies watched helplessly as their students ran around aimlessly. They covered their faces, unable to bear the sight.

The Holy Son of Spirit Hall was far stronger than they had ever imagined.

This was no ordinary soul sage—it wouldn’t be excessive to call him a soul douluo!

With a Holy Son like this, Spirit Hall could prosper for centuries. And with the addition of special soul tools, the world was bound for chaos!

"Ah—!"

Floating in midair, Qian Renjue struck down members of Heavenly Wind Academy and paused for a moment, perplexed.

"Was that… a two-headed wolf I just hit?"

"Forget it. Doesn’t matter."

"Ah—!"

Under the numb stares of academy teachers and team leaders, the plaza fell silent.

Qian Renjue was the only one still standing.

The ground was filled with groaning figures, some writhing in pain, others sleeping peacefully.

Qian Renjue, on the other hand, showed only slight signs of heavy breathing.

This soul master tournament was nothing but a stage for Spirit Hall to glorify its Holy Son and assert dominance over the soul master world.

It was also a platform to display the terrifying potential of their special soul tools—a sword of execution hanging over every faction.

Regardless, the tournament had reached its conclusion.

The champion belonged to Spirit Hall.

It belonged solely to him.

"Match over! The winner of this match is the Holy Son of Spirit Hall!"

The red-robed bishop declared loudly, his voice trembling with excitement.

"Hail the Holy Son!"

A voice rang out, igniting the entire plaza.

"Hail the Holy Son! Hail the Holy Son!"

"Brother Holy Son, hail!"