Douluo: The Martial Soul Asura Armor, a Good Spirit Turning Evil

Zhang Lexuan glanced at Duanmu Yan but did not respond immediately.

After a moment, she nodded.

"Okay. Let's do it the way we do it."

She turned and picked up a wooden box from the table beside her, which contained bamboo slips with names written on them.

Zhang Lexuan put the names of Duanmu Yan and Ye Guyi into the box, shook it, and then handed the box to Duanmu Yan.

"You draw."

Duanmu Yan reached in and casually picked up a stick.

The bamboo skewer was turned over, and two characters were written on it neatly.

Wu Ming.

There was a moment of silence on the sidelines, followed by a soft chuckle from someone.

"What a coincidence."

Wu Ming raised her eyebrows, and the corners of her mouth couldn't help but curl upwards.

"Great!" She stepped out from the crowd, cracked her wrists, and said, "I've heard you're good at fighting. Today's the perfect opportunity to test your skills."

Her tone was filled with undisguised excitement, and her gaze swept over Duanmu Yan, as if she were looking at a toy she had finally gotten her hands on.

Duanmu Yan put the bamboo skewers back into the box, his expression unchanged.

"casual."

His gaze swept over the other people on the sidelines, his tone as calm as if he were talking about what to eat today.

It doesn't matter who you fight.

In any case, apart from Ye Guyi, all these people were pretty much the same to him.

We're not familiar with each other, we have no connection, so there's no need to hold back.

Ye Guyi stood aside, watching this scene, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly.

She knows Duanmu Yan too well.

That expression and that tone clearly showed that he didn't take Wu Ming seriously at all.

It's not contempt, it's pure... indifference.

"Fine, you've got guts." Wu Ming stepped onto the stage, turned around, put her hands on her hips, and said, "Then don't blame me for being impolite."

Zhang Lexuan glanced at the two of them, stepped back to the edge of the arena, and pressed her hand on the protective magic circle.

A transparent light shield rose from the edge of the arena, enveloping the entire arena.

"The rules are simple." Her voice came through the light barrier, clear and calm, "It continues until one side surrenders or is rendered unable to fight. No killing blows are allowed."

She looked at Duanmu Yan.

"Are you ready?"

Duanmu Yan stepped onto the arena and stood opposite Wu Ming, no more than five steps away.

He didn't answer Zhang Lexuan's question, but just glanced at Wu Ming.

"We can begin."

The two stood on the ring.

Wu Ming was the first to move.

Six spirit rings rose from beneath her feet—two yellow, two purple, and three one—the optimal ratio for a spirit master—and slowly rotated around her.

Crimson flames surged from his palm, causing the temperature in the air to rise sharply; even through the protective shield, one could feel the scorching heat.

"Jinwu Wuming." She announced her martial soul with a hint of arrogance in her tone, "Level 64, offensive type."

Duanmu Yan looked at her without saying a word.

Then he released his spirit ring.

One yellow, two purple, and three black.

Six spirit rings rose from beneath his feet, arranged in a neat row.

Black was on the outermost edge, pressing down heavily like three solidified shadows.

The sidelines fell completely silent.

Two purple and three black.

Five soul rings over a thousand years old, three of which are ten thousand years old.

For the inner court disciples present, a ten-thousand-year soul ring was not unusual.

Zhang Lexuan, Ma Xiaotao, and several others all had it.

But Duanmu Yan is only fifteen years old. With a soul power of level 62 and this configuration, it means that he has been at the ten-thousand-year level since his fourth soul ring.

Moreover, judging from his nonchalant demeanor, he clearly still had plenty of energy left to spare.

"This guy..." Chu Qingtian muttered, not finishing his sentence.

Wu Ming's eyebrows furrowed, her previous excitement fading and replaced by seriousness.

She had heard that Duanmu Yan was very strong, but hearing about it and seeing it with her own eyes are two different things.

Six spirit rings, three of which are ten thousand years old.

This configuration would be enough to make anyone in the inner courtyard take notice.

"start."

Zhang Lexuan's voice faded.

Without hesitation, Wu Ming activated his first spirit ring and charged forward.

Her speed was astonishing; the Golden Crow Martial Soul granted her extremely strong explosive power, making the five-step distance almost non-existent beneath her feet.

The crimson flames condensed into a claw shape, aiming straight for Duanmu Yan's chest.

She had practiced this move countless times. It was quick to start, powerful, and had a tricky angle. Her consistent fighting style was to launch an attack right from the start.

Duanmu Yan did not retreat.

A purple light burst forth from his body.

The phantom of the Asura Armor flashed across his body, and a dark purple light covered his entire body.

He neither dodged nor blocked.

He only took a half step to the side.

The fiery claws grazed his shoulder, and the scorching heat wave whipped up his cloak.

His right hand was already raised.

Dark purple light condensed in his palm, and he threw a punch straight at Wu Ming's waist.

Before the punch arrives, the gust of wind comes first.

Wu Ming's pupils contracted slightly as he forcefully stopped his forward momentum, crossing his arms to block.

boom--

Crimson and dark purple collide.

The moment their fists and palms collided, Wu Ming's expression changed slightly.

The force of Duanmu Yan's punch far exceeded her expectations.

The dark purple soul power, like a blunt knife, brutally tore through her flame defenses, leaving her arms numb.

She used the momentum to retreat, creating distance, and her second spirit ring lit up.

The flames of the Golden Crow Martial Soul turned from crimson to golden-white, and the temperature suddenly soared.

Wu Ming clasped his hands together, and a golden line of fire shot out from his palms, like a whip or a snake, lashing out at Duanmu Yan through the air.

Duanmu Yan did not respond.

His dark purple armor gleamed with a cold metallic luster in the firelight, and beneath his mask, only a pair of indifferent eyes were visible.

Wu Ming's fire whip lashed out.

Duanmu Yan's figure disappeared from the spot.

Instant teleportation.

This is one of the special abilities granted to him by the Asura Armor; it does not require the support of a spirit ring and is purely a function of the armor itself.

The next instant, he appeared behind Wu Ming.

Wu Ming reacted extremely quickly, turning around and delivering a palm strike.

But Duanmu Yan didn't give her that chance—the second spirit ring lit up, and dark purple light condensed in her right hand, transforming into a long, narrow curved blade.

Demon Blade.

The blade was as thin as a cicada's wing, with a cold, eerie purple light flowing around its edges.

Wu Ming's flames collided with the Heavenly Demon Blade, but there was no explosion or stalemate.

The blade sliced ​​through the golden-white flame in two, as if cutting through water.

Duanmu Yan leaned in and pressed forward.

His movements were not fast, but each step was timed perfectly to coincide with Wu Ming's changes of tactics.

The Heavenly Demon Blade danced in his hands, without any fancy moves; each strike precisely cut at the point where Wu Ming's soul power flowed.

He cleaved through the protective flames with a single strike.

He forced her to retreat with a single strike.

The third cut stopped on Wu Ming's neck.

The blade was less than an inch from her skin, and a cold, purplish light shone on her profile.

Wu Ming froze.

Her third spirit ring was half-lit, and the flame of the Golden Crow Martial Soul flickered in her palm, but she could no longer deliver it.

The entire room fell silent.

From start to finish, it only takes a few breaths.

Duanmu Yan sheathed the Heavenly Demon Blade and took a step back.

The dark purple armor receded like the tide, revealing his expressionless face.

Wu Ming stood there, her lips moved, but she didn't say anything.

Level 64.

Golden Crow Martial Soul.

The top five offensive-type Soul Masters in the Inner Court.

They lost without even using their third soul skill!