Chapter 215: Your Era Has Ended
As the dust gradually cleared, the audience could finally see the state of the arena. A massive crater had been carved into the battlefield, its jagged, exposed rocks revealing the sheer devastation wrought by the two fighters. What was once a smooth fighting ground now lay in ruins, devoid of a single spot to stand on without debris.
Staring at the destruction, gasps echoed through the crowd, every face marked with shock. They, too, had fought on the same battleground and knew its solid structure well. Even their strongest soul skills would leave only minor dents. Who could fathom the power of these two to have torn the arena to shreds like this?
Feng Xiaotian swallowed hard, eyes locked on the arena. Despite the undefeated status of both his team and Oakland Academy, the gap between them was now painfully clear. Oakland Academy's strength, and even Shrek Academy's—especially Tang San's Disorder Splitting Wind Hammer Technique—far outclassed his own Gale Demon Wolf Thirty-Six Consecutive Slashes. Gritting his fists, he steeled himself, vowing to push his technique even further.
Up in the VIP seats, Emperor Xue Ye's face grew cold, his lips barely moving as he muttered, "Two tigers fighting; one of them will be injured. Since neither can serve me, let them fight to the death. It'd be even better if both perish!" From his position of power, he instinctively harbored resentment for any threats to the throne. Legends like Qian Daoliu and Tang Chen had once been thorns in his side, and now these two showed potential to be just as dangerous.
Salas watched the dissipating dust with bated breath. Were it not for the intense aura around them, he would have intervened himself to check on Dai Yao. Worry for Dai Yao's condition mingled with a deep-seated hatred for Tang San, a flash of malice in his eyes. "Dai Yao has carried out my orders. Now, will that little wretch Tang San survive? If he doesn't, we'll proceed with the next plan."
As the haze fully dissipated, a figure in moon-white robes emerged from the shadows, and gasps echoed across the stands.
It was Dai Yao.
His sleeves and pant legs had been torn to shreds, revealing bronzed skin beneath. His white robe—now more of a T-shirt and shorts—was covered in dirt and bloodstains. Even his once-bright golden hair had dulled. Blood flowed from his right arm, especially from his hand, where his fingers, despite the protection of the cloud-patterned gloves, were visibly broken, hanging at odd angles. Without those gloves, his hand would have been mangled beyond recognition.
Despite his battered appearance, Dai Yao's eyes remained piercing, filled with an intense gleam. He wiped the blood from his mouth, steadying his shaking right arm. The pain coursed through him, but he barely noticed it as his gaze swept toward Ning Fengzhi, calm and unyielding.
In the final moments of their clash, Dai Yao's Eight Extremes Burst had completely suppressed Tang San's Disorder Splitting Wind. Tang San's Clear Sky Hammer had all but shattered under the weight of Dai Yao's strength, his twisted expression clearly visible. If that final blow had landed, Tang San's body would likely have been obliterated.
Just as Dai Yao's killing intent surged, a shield of nine-colored light enveloped Tang San, blocking his fist. It was the enhancement of the Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda. Only one person could wield this spirit—Ning Fengzhi, the head of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan, known as the continent's foremost support spirit master.
Dai Yao could only sigh, feeling both regret and inevitability. This had been his best chance to eliminate Tang San, but Ning Fengzhi's intervention had thwarted him. With Ning Fengzhi's protection, there was no way to proceed without sparking a deadly confrontation.
Ning Fengzhi, his Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda still humming with energy, looked at Dai Yao and shook his head softly, as though to say he couldn't simply stand by and watch Tang Hao's son be killed in front of him. Doing so would mean enmity with the Clear Sky Clan and Tang Hao himself, adding unpredictable complications to an already turbulent future.
As Dai Yao's figure emerged, the audience broke into applause. The climactic duel between him and Tang San had left an indelible mark on these soul masters, humbling them with the display of true strength. But in the Shrek Academy rest area, there was only a heavy silence.
The sight of Dai Yao standing unscathed shook everyone to their core, and a shared dread hung in the air.
Xiao Wu covered her mouth, eyes wide with despair as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. Beside her, Ning Rongrong held her tight, trying to offer what little comfort she could.
Yu Xiaogang collapsed to his knees, tears streaking down his face as he murmured, "Little San… little San…" Tang San wasn't just his disciple; he was like a son to him. "Don't leave me, little San. Without you, what's to become of my theories?"
Liu Erlong reached out to console him, but seeing Yu Xiaogang so shattered, she hesitated, casting a gaze of pure loathing toward Dai Yao. Flander adjusted his glasses, his face betraying both frustration and fury, yet he held himself back. Despite his creed of "only cowards avoid trouble," he was no fool. Revenge was pointless against someone with backing as formidable as Dai Yao's. However, if Tang Hao were to exact retribution, he would gladly follow his lead.
The dust had cleared completely, and near the crater's edge lay a bloodied figure on a relatively smooth rock. His faintly rising chest was the only indication that he still clung to life.
Dai Yao scoffed, muttering under his breath, "Lucky to be alive." Ignoring the searing pain in his hand, he leaped over to where Tang San lay, looking down at him. Tang San's arms hung limp at his sides, ravaged by the hidden force of the Eight Extremes Burst. Even with Ning Fengzhi's intervention, his limbs were beyond repair.
"Dai Yao, you're not allowed to continue attacking!" cried the referee, rushing forward to stand between him and Tang San.
"No need to worry. I'm not here to attack; I only came to have a look," Dai Yao replied.
With an icy gaze, he studied the severely injured Tang San.
Tang San's swollen, bloodshot eyes struggled to open. His face contorted with pain, mouth twitching as he tried to speak, each word forcing blood to trickle from his lips.
Dai Yao's mouth twisted into a smirk. "What is it? Something you wanted to say?"
Tang San fought against the stabbing pain and gasped out his words, his voice strained and broken:
"Why… from the very first time I met you, did I sense such intense hostility from you?" Tang San's voice was weak, tinged with anger. "Twice now, you've shown nothing but murderous intent toward me in battle. If I hadn't been so lucky, I'd already be dead."
"Does it matter?" Dai Yao shrugged, with his uninjured shoulder, a slight smirk on his lips.
"It matters," Tang San's eyes glinted with a faint purple light, his gaze unwavering.
Dai Yao didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked up at the sky. Their fight had been the final match of the day; the setting sun was already dipping below the horizon, casting its crimson light across the arena. A dusty breeze brushed against Dai Yao's face, carrying the faint smell of grit, which he found oddly comforting.
Tang San, watching Dai Yao bask in his victory, felt an urgent need for an answer. This question had plagued him for a long time. What was it that lay behind this enmity? He looked at Dai Yao with expectant eyes, waiting.
Finally, a faint voice reached Tang San's ears, conveyed by Dai Yao's soul power.
"If I hadn't appeared, it would be you standing here now as the brightest star of this tournament. You would walk a path to the peak of soul mastery. You would reign over the continent, leading it into an era defined by your power. But because of your existence, spirit beasts, humans, and even other continents would be drawn into endless wars and suffering."
"This would be your era."
For a moment, Dai Yao's expression softened. If he hadn't come to this world, and if Tang San had never been a part of it, then Spirit Hall might have unified the continent. Under a single powerful empire, the people could have known peace, free from wars. With uninterrupted advancement over millennia, the continent might even be able to defend against or even conquer the Sun Moon Empire when it arrived.
There would have been no place for an institution like Shrek Academy, which, in future generations, would become a parasite, leeching the continent's resources dry. The academy became a poison, hoarding the continent's most valuable talents and hindering progress.
Tang Hao, Ah Yin, the Golden Tree—each of them was nothing but a tool of the Tang God-King, all designed to control the continent. The gods claimed they did not meddle in the mortal realm, yet without the Tang God-King, would Tang Hao and Ah Yin have achieved what they did? The power structure of the divine realm itself ultimately became one family's dominion, all kneeling to the Tang God-King's will.
Dai Yao let out a cold laugh, finally meeting Tang San's gaze again. "But how unfortunate for you… I appeared."
"Your era," he sneered, "is over before it even began."
The blood-red light of sunset cast an eerie glow on Tang San's face, making it hard to tell where the light ended and the blood began. Tang San's eyes widened, his bloodshot gaze filled with shock.
"You…you…" Tang San stammered, too stunned to respond fully. Dai Yao's words had rocked him to his core. Why had Dai Yao called it his era? The implications behind his words roared through Tang San's mind, even with all his intelligence, he couldn't make sense of it all.
Yet, he managed to seize upon a vital thread of meaning, clenching his teeth as he demanded, "What gives you the right to say I would bring suffering to the continent? None of this has happened yet. How could you possibly know?"
Dai Yao's smile grew colder, his gaze condescending. It was true; nothing had happened yet, and he had no tangible proof of Tang San's future actions. But then again, by Tang San's own account, he'd always cast himself as the righteous one, and Spirit Hall as the ultimate evil. By what right?
Spirit Hall had traversed the continent to awaken the spirits of soul masters in remote villages, a policy that had cost a fortune and required painstaking effort. This endeavor had benefited countless ordinary people, Tang San himself included. His war against Spirit Hall was, in essence, a feud between nobles—no more than a "dog-eat-dog" conflict that had no real bearing on ordinary citizens. What right did he have to speak of good versus evil?
Spirit Hall's contributions to the people were facts, and yet Tang San ignored them, branding Spirit Hall as evil for his own purposes. So now, if Dai Yao claimed that Tang San's very existence was a disaster for the continent, why should he care if Tang San found it unfair?
He didn't even owe Tang San an explanation. Casting one last look of contempt, Dai Yao turned and walked away.
Once, the specter of Tang San had haunted his dreams, but after defeating him twice, the fear had faded. Especially now, with his ace—the Chaos Green Lotus Martial Soul—still held in reserve.
This was the only reason he bothered to speak so much to Tang San. Despite revealing a few things, he was now strong enough that he no longer feared Tang San. Although he had risked Tang Hao's possible intervention today, it was a pity he hadn't been able to kill Tang San, though he was fully prepared to be Tang San's nemesis.
"Bring it on, Tang San," he muttered under his breath.
Ning Fengzhi watched Dai Yao and Tang San, his gaze flicking between them as he sighed heavily. Though he hadn't heard their conversation, the hostility in Tang San's voice made the tension between the two clear.
"It seems there's a story between these two," Ning Fengzhi mused, shaking his head as he activated his soul power. Twin beams of radiant light shot forth, enveloping both Tang San and Dai Yao.
The gentle glow of Ning Fengzhi's Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda immediately began to heal Dai Yao's battered right arm. Although he could move it again, he still felt lingering pain.
"Thank you, Uncle Ning," Dai Yao said, bowing respectfully.
Tang San's situation, however, was far worse. His arms were still limp and immobile.
"Father, how is Third Brother?" Ning Rongrong asked anxiously, clutching Ning Fengzhi's shoulder.
With a weary sigh, Ning Fengzhi replied, "Their battle was too intense. Without immediate healing, his arms would have been completely crippled. Even so, it will take at least a month of recovery for him to regain full use."
Hearing this, Shrek Academy's team felt as though they'd been struck by lightning. Tang San would be unable to compete in the upcoming advancement rounds—a significant blow to their team's strength.
Yu Xiaogang seemed to come back to life, a faint glimmer of relief crossing his features. "He's going to be alright…Thank goodness, he'll be alright," he whispered, as if reassuring himself.
Struggling to stand, Tang San was quickly supported by Xiao Wu, but he still looked ashamed.
"I'm sorry, everyone," Tang San said, his voice laden with guilt. "I overestimated myself and insisted on a duel with Dai Yao, putting our team in a tough spot for the rest of the tournament."
After a moment of silence, Dai Mubai walked over, kneeling beside Tang San and patting his shoulder. "Don't worry, Xiao San," he reassured him. "We'll handle it together."
The others nodded resolutely, determined to carry the burden Tang San had left behind.
Tai Long clenched his fists, his face red with anger. "Young Master, I'll go find my grandfather right now and have him teach that Dai Yao a lesson!"
Tang San, his voice weak, quickly stopped him. "Tai Long, don't waste your energy. With Spirit Hall backing Dai Yao, even a Titled Douluo might struggle to touch him. If we want to settle the score, we'll have to do it ourselves."
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read 20 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/Canserbero10