Passing down the Soul Core Secret Technique to Huo Lie was absolutely necessary.
Huo Lie had advanced to a Nine-Ring Titled Douluo five or six years ago, and with the help of an immortal herb, his soul power level had reached Rank 92 as soon as he broke through.
Although advancing past Rank 90 meant facing a bottleneck at every level, after consuming a Draconic Earth Gold Melon, even though it was not yet fully matured, Huo Lie's talent for cultivation would not be any worse than that of an innate full soul power genius.
Moreover, he was practicing the Lava Meditation Technique, an exceptional soul power cultivation method, so increasing his soul power by two ranks in five or six years shouldn't be a problem. After all, breaking through below Rank 95 wasn't too difficult for geniuses.
If Huo Lie had already reached Rank 94 Peak, then after condensing his Soul Core, he could break through to Rank 95 Titled Douluo in one go.
Reaching Rank 95 Titled Douluo, his strength would far surpass that of Titled Douluo below Rank 95. Adding the benefits of the Soul Core, the difference would not be smaller than the gap between a Rank 89 Soul Douluo and a Rank 91 Titled Douluo.
As for beyond Rank 95?
Perhaps within ten years after advancing to Rank 95, Huo Lie could break through to Rank 96, but Rank 97 and beyond? Without twenty to thirty years, it was almost impossible—even in this lifetime, he might never make it.
Take the worship elders of Spirit Hall, for example—each of them had been among the top-tier geniuses of their era, yet they had still been stuck at bottlenecks for decades, unable to advance even a step.
After having dinner at the academy's cafeteria, Mu Yang headed to the lava mimicry training ground inside the main campus's back mountain, where he handed the Soul Core Secret Technique to Huo Lie and his companion.
As for the origin of the secret technique?
The master of making assumptions, Huo Lie, instantly came up with his own explanation, saving Mu Yang the trouble of providing any—instead, Huo Lie simply gave Mu Yang a knowing look.
Under the night sky, in a remote village within the Star Luo Empire, the scent of blood permeated the air.
"Elder Digan, the Blood Worship Evil Sect has been completely eradicated."
A red-clothed bishop of Spirit Hall spoke respectfully to a burly middle-aged man clad in golden armor.
"Have you completed the casuality report? What are our battle results?"
The Spirit Hall elder, Digan, asked.
The red-clothed bishop replied, "Thanks to Elder's intervention, our casualties were minimal—one Soul Emperor and three Soul Kings perished, while one red-clothed bishop lost an arm, and two Soul Emperors and five Soul Kings were injured. The others can be healed.
As for the Blood Worship Evil Sect, their eight-ring leader 'Blood Demon', four seven-ring elders, and twelve six-ring protectors have all been slain. Additionally, over two hundred sect members below six rings have been killed. Aside from a handful of low-level members who were not in their base at the time, the Blood Worship Evil Sect has been completely wiped out."
"Well done. When we return to Spirit City, I will report to Her Holiness, the Supreme Pontiff, and ensure that you all receive due rewards."
Digan Douluo nodded.
"Exterminating evil soul masters is our duty—we dare not claim credit."
The red-clothed bishop quickly responded with a serious tone.
"Haha! Though it is indeed our duty to hunt down evil soul masters, merit must be rewarded, and mistakes must be punished—this is the principle of Spirit Hall. You deserve this, so don't be modest."
Digan Douluo waved his hand indifferently.
If there were no rewards for achievements, who would strive for excellence in the future? Who would willingly risk their lives to exterminate evil soul masters and uphold justice on the continent?
Just then, a heavy, oppressive aura suddenly filled the air, weighing down on everyone present.
"Who's there?!"
Digan Douluo, being the most sensitive to such changes, roared as he turned toward the village entrance.
"Exterminating evil soul masters—I suppose that makes you people righteous. Unfortunately, you've aligned yourselves with the wrong faction."
A deep voice resounded, accompanied by a terrifying soul power pressure. A hulking, black-robed figure slowly stepped forward from the village entrance.
Under the overwhelming soul power pressure, all the Spirit Hall members, including Digan Douluo, felt as though a massive mountain had been placed on their backs. Moreover, with each step the black-robed figure took, the weight of that mountain increased.
"Earth Barbaric Bull, Spirit Possession! Who are you? State your name!"
Golden earth-toned soul power burst forth as Digan Douluo activated his Martial Soul: Earth Barbaric Bull. Around him, nine soul rings—yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black, black, black—shone brightly. His muscles swelled, and black bull horns sprouted from his head. His expression grew solemn as he shouted at the approaching figure.
"Heh~ Rank 92."
The black-robed figure chuckled softly, releasing his own nine soul rings.
But unlike Digan Douluo, his ninth soul ring wasn't black—it was crimson red.
A red,Hundrend-thousand-year soul ring? No! This was a hundred-thousand-year soul ring!
When the scarlet ninth soul ring appeared, a pitch-black hammer materialized in the black-robed figure's hands. Instantly, the already terrifying soul power pressure intensified.
"Boom! Boom! Boom—"
Several Spirit Hall members—particularly the weaker five-ring Soul Kings—collapsed under the pressure. Their bodies exploded, spraying blood in all directions.
At this moment, however, Digan Douluo had no time to care about his subordinates. Staring at the black-robed figure, his eyes locked onto that impossible hundred-thousand-year soul ring and the black hammer Martial Soul in his hands. His voice trembled as he spoke:
"Clear Sky Hammer… A hundred-thousand-year ninth soul ring… Are you Tang Hao?!"
Tang Hao—the legendary Clear Sky Douluo, the man who had once hammered the previous Supreme Pontiff to death!
In that moment, Digan Douluo felt as if he had become a lump of mud—utterly powerless.
"Good. Since you recognize me, you won't die with regrets."
Tang Hao's voice was cold as his seventh soul ring gleamed.
"Seventh Soul Skill—Clear Sky Avatar!"
A towering Clear Sky Hammer projection materialized.
Three minutes later, the remote village fell silent once more.
The air was now even thicker with the scent of blood.
Dismissing his Martial Soul Avatar, Tang Hao extended his hand, and a yellow-glowing left arm soul bone, radiating a vast and steady energy, flew into his grasp from a massive crater. Beneath his hooded cloak, a faint smile appeared on his face.
"A sixty-thousand-year left arm soul bone. Eleven Soul Saints, four Soul Douluo, and a Titled Douluo… That should be enough."
'With this left arm soul bone, Little San should be able to advance to his fourth ring. Little San, you must not disappoint your father.'
Gazing at the soul bone in his hand, Tang Hao thought to himself.
A trace of hesitation flashed in his eyes, but it was immediately replaced by determination. His lips moved slightly.
"Everything… is for Little San. Ah Yin, you will forgive me, won't you?"
Stowing away the soul bone, Tang Hao's figure vanished into the night.
Meanwhile, in Spirit City, the Supreme Pontiff Bibi Dong remained unaware that in just a few days, Tang Hao had hunted down eleven Soul Saints, four Soul Douluo, and even slain a Spirit Hall elder.