He Caitou remained on high alert, his expression stern, ready to deploy his soul tools at a moment's notice to defend against—or counter—any imminent threat.
Lin Yun merely glanced at him before pulling Xiao Xiao to a corner, chatting and laughing with her.
Huo Yuhao stood blankly next to Bei Bei, his dumbfounded expression clashing hilariously with his now-buff physique, giving off major "dumb oaf" energy.
The others huddled in small groups, murmuring among themselves.
The scene appeared harmonious—
At least on the surface. Whether it was truly harmonious was another matter.
But realistically, it couldn't be. Everyone here was a core disciple, and whatever this "task" was, it clearly wouldn't involve all of them. Most would be eliminated. In short, every single person present was a potential competitor.
If they weren't wary of each other, how could there possibly be harmony?
Just as everyone silently adhered to the dark forest principle—ready to unleash annihilation upon their neighbors at any moment—a disheveled old man abruptly materialized at the center of the Fighting Arena.
A loose gray robe hung haphazardly over his frame, his greasy, unkempt hair glistening under the light. His wrinkled face bore the drowsy look of someone who'd just woken up, and the pungent mix of strong liquor and roasted meat wafting off him was… overwhelming.
The few students closest to him turned green, their stomachs churning.
If not for the fact that the old geezer had appeared out of thin air—clearly marking him as a formidable expert—they might've already cursed him out.
The old man unhurriedly uncorked the gourd at his waist and took a hearty swig before lazily scanning the crowd of core disciples.
His gaze lingered briefly on Lin Yun, his eyes a swirling mix of emotions—admiration, regret, greed, disgust, and ill intent.
Like a pie chart of conflicting feelings.
Lin Yun, of course, recognized this illustrious figure immediately.
Oh ho—if it isn't the Chicken Leg Douluo!
Sure enough, the next second, Elder Xuan (the aforementioned old geezer) pulled out an奥尔良 (Orleans-style) chicken leg from who-knows-where and took a big, messy bite, chewing noisily.
The reason for Xuan Zi's complicated stare was simple:
Admiration for Lin Yun's martial soul and talent.
Regret because Lin Yun belonged to a sect.
Greed because Lin Yun possessed immortal herbs.
Disgust because Lin Yun had swindled Shrek out of six 100,000-year soul bones using said herbs.
And as for the ill intent…
Well, one had to wonder if Elder Xuan was already scheming another disaster for Shrek behind the scenes.
Silence stretched as Xuan Zi ate, the entire arena frozen in awkward stillness until he finally finished the chicken leg, tossed the bone aside, and washed it down with another gulp of wine.
"Your teachers likely already informed you," he began casually, "that you've been gathered here to select a team for a secret mission. I am Elder Xuan, the overseer of this selection."
"The rules are simple: a free-for-all. When I say begin, last seven standing win. Go all out—I'll ensure no one gets seriously hurt."
The core disciples exchanged bewildered glances.
A free-for-all?
This was the grand selection method?
But Xuan Zi couldn't care less. "Any questions?"
...As if you'd change the rules even if we did.
"No!" came the unanimous (if reluctant) reply.
"Good. Then—begin!" With that, Xuan Zi vanished, leaving the students to eye each other warily.
The smarter ones instantly formed alliances, summoning their martial souls. In a free-for-all, going solo was suicide.
"Predators hunt alone, prey huddle together" only applied when the power gap was vast. Here, everyone was a core disciple—a genius among peers. Arrogance would be their downfall.
...Except for Lin Yun.
While factions rapidly coalesced, Lin Yun kept an arm around Xiao Xiao's waist, watching with amusement.
Brilliant soul rings lit up across the arena—none below two rings. Realistically, most participants were Soul Elders (three rings) or above, making the two-ringed Huo Yuhao, Zhou Sichen, and Cao Jinxuan stick out like sore thumbs.
Murmurs of "Take out the weaklings first" rippled through the crowd—
Until Bei Bei, Xu Sanshi, and Jiang Nannan released their four rings (two yellow, two purple), instantly shifting the dynamic.
"Eliminate the upperclassmen first!" a third-year Soul Elder shouted, charging ahead. The others quickly agreed—removing the strongest early maximized their own chances.
Bei Bei's group paled. Huo Yuhao, sweating bullets, yelled toward Lin Yun:
"Godfather, save me!"
Lin Yun, who'd planned to stay out of it, froze.
...He called me godfather.
What do I do now?
After a moment of exaggerated pondering, Lin Yun's expression twisted into a vicious grin.
Ohoho—trying to acknowledge me as your godfather so you can stab me in the back later?
This little schemer has rebellion in his bones. He's already marked for death!
ROOOAAAR—!!!
A deafening draconic roar shook the arena as an oppressive, mountain-like pressure descended upon every soul present.
The King had arrived.
(End of Chapter)
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