It's worth noting that three individuals sat on the main stage, each representing a major faction.
At the center was Emperor Xue Ye, representing the Heaven Dou Empire's royal family.
To his left sat Ning Fengzhi, leader of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, one of the prestigious Upper Three Sects.
On the right was a man clad in a red robe, a silver crown resting upon his head—Platinum Bishop Salas of the Spirit Hall.
Within the entire Spirit Hall, only four Platinum Bishops existed. Two remained stationed at the headquarters, while the other two oversaw the two great Spirit Hall branches in the empire. Their authority was immense, their influence unparalleled.
In terms of sheer influence, these four even surpassed some Title Douluo. After all, power wasn't solely about brute strength.
Shouting and posturing over trivial matters? That was the behavior of barbarians.
Even on the Douluo Continent, where strength reigned supreme, direct confrontations were rare—especially among Title Douluo. Thus, from this perspective, the Platinum Bishops' status was understandable.
The figures seated behind these three were no ordinary individuals either—each a high-ranking official or noble of considerable standing.
However, what surprised Xiao Tianyang was the presence of Qian Renxue, disguised as Crown Prince Xue Qinghe.
Their gazes met briefly before both looked away, as if nothing had happened.
During the opening ceremony, the three most distinguished figures on stage engaged in hushed conversation.
"Sect Master Ning," Bishop Salas began, a faint smirk playing on his lips, "given the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect intelligence network, you must have gathered information on all participating teams. I wonder which one has caught your eye the most?"
Ning Fengzhi, never one to concede, replied smoothly, "When it comes to intelligence gathering, no one surpasses the Spirit Hall. As for the strongest team here… isn't it obvious at a glance?"
Emperor Xue Ye, his expression unreadable, interjected coolly, "Sect Master Ning, are you referring to the Whitebeard team from Baikong Academy? Their sheer presence alone sends chills down the spines of their competitors."
Ning Fengzhi smiled faintly. "In all my years, I've never seen a team of this age and level exude such overwhelming pressure. Though, it's ironic—Baikong Academy bears the name of a prestigious institution, yet its facilities are in shambles."
Salas frowned slightly. "Who knows where they unearthed these four monsters? But surely, are they eligible to compete?"
Emperor Xue Ye's words carried a hidden edge."Is there any rule forbidding them from participating?"
His remark sparked contemplation in both Ning Fengzhi and Salas. Yet, neither betrayed their thoughts, their expressions remaining unreadable.
There was no need for probing or veiled intentions—all three understood the unspoken game.
Even without Emperor Xue Ye's prompting, they had already prepared their moves: investigate the team's origins and, if possible, recruit them.
Each had their own agenda, but the opening ceremony soon concluded.
Following the host's instructions, a maid presented a box to Bishop Salas for the drawing of lots.
As for why Salas, not Emperor Xue Ye, presided over this task… the politics ran too deep, and Xiao Tianyang had no interest in unraveling them yet.
Soon, the matchups were decided.
Xiao Tianyang paid little attention to most teams—only two mattered to him.
One was Shrek Academy's opponent and old acquaintance: the Emperor Team secondary team. (The main team, led by Yu Tianheng, had already secured a direct spot in the finals through recommendation.)
The other was his own opponent—Canghui Academy.
"How dull," Xiao Tianyang muttered upon hearing the name, shaking his head. "Who drew the lot this time?"
"Me! Me!" Fei Xue piped up excitedly behind him.
"Remember, finish this quickly. No dragging it out," Xiao Tianyang reminded.
Fei Xue caught the implication and frowned. "Are they that weak?"
"So weak I can't even be bothered to lift a finger. What does that tell you?" Though his tone was teasing, the rasp in his voice lent it an eerie edge.
After assigning Fei Xue as the sole participant, Xiao Tianyang returned to his seat with the other two, awaiting the match's outcome.
With nothing else to do, he turned his attention to the system interface in his mind. The mission prompts had updated—but in a puzzling way.
[Main Mission Triggered: Continental Elite Young Soul Master Tournament]
Objective: Overcome all obstacles and claim victory in the tournament.
Reward: Random Martial Soul ×2
[Main Mission Triggered: Unavoidable Conflict]
Objective: Ensure the safe retreat of all allies.
Reward: To Be Determined
[Side Mission Triggered: Pressure Like a Mountain]
Objective: Stand your ground against three Title Douluo without faltering.
Reward: Random Martial Soul ×1
Xiao Tianyang understood the first mission well enough.
But the second and third? What was this, foreshadowing?
"Unavoidable conflict… Does this mean the plot will follow the original trajectory no matter what?" he mused. "Xiao Wu's identity will inevitably be exposed, but it doesn't matter. Whether for one reason or another, the outcome remains the same—we'll have to fight."
"But facing three Title Douluo without backing down… System, you really overestimate me, don't you?"
Though he currently possessed strength rivaling a Soul Saint—even surpassing one in certain aspects (except for the Spirit Avatar ability)—what did that matter?
Without the seventh spirit ring, he couldn't undergo the first qualitative transformation in a soul master's journey.
It was like comparing sponge cake to a layered pastry. Without the cream, it was just bread—cheap and plain.
But add the cream? It became a delicacy, its value multiplied.
That was the difference between having a seventh spirit ring and not.
Xiao Tianyang had been compensating with sheer power, allowing him to suppress even Liu Erlong by leveraging the density of his soul power.
But this was a stopgap, not a true solution.
In the same analogy, he was like an exceptionally flavorful sponge cake—delicious, but still not a proper pastry.
And if this third mission was indeed a sign… did it mean he'd have to face three Title Douluo alone?!
His head throbbed at the thought. Shaking it off, he forced himself to focus.
"This is a problem for the future, not now," he told himself. "By then, I might have the means to handle it."
"Hm? What's wrong?" Saber, seated beside him, noticed his shift in mood.
"Nothing," Xiao Tianyang replied, shaking his head. "Just lost in thoughts."
…
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