Chapter 23

With the aid of soul skills, the Soul Fighting Stage also became splendid, and the battles had twists and turns.

Relying on the uniqueness of soul skills, many students managed to turn the tide against the odds.

Also, many students capsized in a gutter when they had the upper hand.

Time flew by, and only when the sun slanted west did it finally become the third-year students' turn for the examination.

In the third year of the elementary division, there were forty-two students in total, thirty-three of whom were soul masters possessing a first soul ring.

After drawing lots, Dai Xiyu got number one and had to face the student who drew number two in the first round's first match.

After stepping onto the stage, he raised his head and looked toward his opponent.

All he saw was a sharp‑mouthed, monkey‑cheeked male student standing there.

It wasn't that he looked like a monkey; rather, his face was especially long and thin, giving that impression.

Dai Xiyu remembered this person; his name was Wang Daomo, nickname the Devil King.

He came from a ducal family and was Dai Mubai's chief follower.

It was this person who led the mockery of Dai Xiyu at the banquet earlier.

At this moment, Wang Daomo's face was solemn and his whole body tensed.

Leaning on Dai Mubai's big tree, he dared to sneer at Dai Xiyu; if they truly fought one‑on‑one on the Soul Fighting Stage, claiming he wasn't afraid would be false.

He knew he would inevitably lose to Dai Xiyu, given their soul power differed by seven ranks.

Wang Daomo, his innate talent was not bad either—he was born with soul power rank five.

Such talent, among the aristocratic circles, was also quite good, not far inferior to those born with rank six or seven.

This year, he also successfully broke through to soul power rank twelve, and was about to meet the graduation standard ahead of time.

However, compared to Dai Xiyu, whose soul power had reached rank nineteen, the gap was far.

His first soul ring was three hundred years old; if the soul power difference were only two or three ranks, perhaps there would still be a chance to win.

But with a seven‑rank difference, defeat was certain.

Although defeat was inevitable, Wang Daomo could not afford to lose for nothing.

He still had an important task: to probe Dai Xiyu's details.

To test Dai Xiyu's soul power, so as to prepare Dai Mubai's response later.

The two stood facing each other, and Wang Daomo said in a low voice: "Wang Daomo, martial soul Bull, rank twelve, one‑ring Soul Master."

Dai Xiyu nodded and said calmly: "Dai Xiyu, martial soul White Tiger, rank twenty‑three, two‑ring Soul Grandmaster."

"Um, please… uh?"

Just as he was about to say "please give me your advice," Wang Daomo reacted immediately.

He exclaimed in surprise: "What did you just say? What rank are you?"

Dai Xiyu's expression remained blank as he calmly repeated: "Dai Xiyu, martial soul White Tiger, rank twenty‑three, two‑ring Soul Grandmaster."

For a moment, the entire venue fell silent again.

Even the four students on the two adjacent Soul Fighting Stages stared in astonishment toward Dai Xiyu's direction.

"Rank twenty‑three? Nine years old? Are you joking?"

"Do you think you're the Pope of the Spirit Hall? This is outrageous."

Everyone's first thought was that Dai Xiyu was trying to scare them.

Such a practice of not telling the truth is actually very disrespectful to the opponent, even showing contempt.

On the Soul Fighting Stage, if you conceal your true strength—whether underreporting or overreporting—you are looking down on your opponent.

Only bitter enemies with deep grudges would do that.

However, thinking about it that way, it actually makes sense.

As Dai Mubai's chief follower, Wang Daomo often helped Dai Mubai scheme against Dai Xiyu, and indeed he counted as Dai Xiyu's bitter enemy.

Dai Mubai on the stands also came back to his senses after the shock.

That's right; Dai Xiyu was basically just playing Wang Daomo.

Otherwise, having just broken through to rank nineteen a month and a half ago, how could he possibly break through the bottleneck again in such a short time and reach rank twenty‑three?

Moreover, Dai Xiyu's first soul ring is only a hundred years old.

Such a soul ring creates a huge obstacle for breaking through later bottlenecks.

Thus, it becomes even less likely that he could break through so quickly.

Thinking this, Dai Mubai couldn't help but feel a bit annoyed.

Although he was merely a bystander, he almost believed it and was played by Dai Xiyu.

Fortunately, he reacted in time, so his heart remained unmoved.

At this moment, Wang Daomo, standing opposite Dai Xiyu, also reacted and couldn't help but glare angrily.

"Dai Xiyu, you're playing me?"

Directly calling Dai Xiyu by name, only a few people do that at the Star Luo Royal Elementary Academy.

Dai Mubai counts as one, and the Star Luo Emperor counts as one.

Even his fiancée Zhu Zhuqing, when not familiar, addressed him as "Second Prince," later changing to the more intimate "Xiyu."

This Wang Daomo, merely a second son of a ducal house, daring to call Dai Xiyu by name directly, is a great provocation to a prince.

Even if his father stood here, he would have to address Dai Xiyu as "Your Highness."

The authority of the royal family must not be infringed.

Dai Xiyu's expression turned cold, and he said in a low voice:

"If you insist on thinking I'm playing you, that's fine too. Because you simply lack the qualification to make me take you seriously."

"Whether it's status or strength, it's the same."

Dai Xiyu's words were indeed correct.

But for Wang Daomo, it was like a bone-scraping steel knife, a satire that cut deep into the marrow.

Yet Wang Daomo could not make any rebuttal.

In terms of status, he was indeed a hundred and eight thousand miles inferior to Dai Xiyu.

In strength, the twelfth level and the nineteenth level were worlds apart.

Wang Daomo's face flushed red, and he immediately released his Bull martial soul, a yellow soul ring rising beneath his feet.

He gritted his teeth and said, word by word: "Your Highness the Second Prince, please instruct me!"

Just moments ago, he had arrogantly addressed him by name.

Now, faced with the authority of the royal family and the gazes of the nobles, he had no choice but to address him as "Your Highness" again.

The face of his duke father could be said to have been completely lost by this son.

Dai Xiyu, meanwhile, remained calm and showed no intention to respond.

He didn't even release his martial soul, simply standing there with his hands behind his back.

The meaning was clear.

Dai Xiyu didn't even intend to release his White Tiger martial soul, confident he could defeat Wang Daomo.

Seeing this, Wang Daomo was filled with extreme indignation, and a great sense of shame welled up in his heart.

"Fine, Your Highness the Second Prince, if that's the case, then I will make you know that I, Wang Daomo, am no mere trash!"

"First soul skill, Bull Charge!"

Having said that, Wang Daomo let out an angry shout, and his first soul ring lit up directly.

He slammed his right foot onto the soul-dueling platform, producing a dull thud, and his whole body shot forward immediately.

Dai Xiyu remained calm, not releasing his White Tiger martial soul.

Only, his eyes instantly turned blood-red.

Second martial soul, Writing Wheel Eye!

This second martial soul is actually also a kind of innate martial soul, only it comes from another world.

Dai Xiyu has not yet attached any soul rings to it, so it appears as if he hasn't released a martial soul at all.

In the light-red vision of the Writing Wheel Eye, everything became half-speed.

Wang Daomo's attack trajectory was also laid bare.

Dai Xiyu gathered his soul power, and his figure instantly left the spot.

He arced around, at maximum speed, arriving at Wang Daomo's side.

Immediately following, he struck out with a palm!

(End of chapter)