Dugu Yan ruffled her hair in frustration, pouting cutely. "Tang Yin, what's up with this confusing bracket? I don't get it at all. Explain it again!"
Tang Yin chuckled at her antics, reaching over to gently pinch her nose. "Alright, listen closely."
He gestured to a rough map drawn in the dirt. "The Continental Elite Young Soul Master Tournament has three rounds: the Preliminary, Qualifying, and Finals."
"Tian Duo Empire has six preliminary divisions. One is hosted in Tian Duo City, the central branch. The other five are scattered across its territories—four great vassal kingdoms and one vassal duchy. Each holds their own preliminaries."
"The Tian Duo City branch has five quotas for the qualifying round. The kingdoms and the duchy each get two quotas. That totals fifteen teams from Tian Duo Empire entering the qualifying stage. Got it?"
Dugu Yan nodded... then hesitated and shook her head. "I get that part... but how do they decide who fights who in the qualifying round?"
Tang Yin called his teammates together and began explaining the rules for the Qualifier:
"Alright, I'll explain this only once, so listen carefully. The rules for the qualifying round are as follows:
Both teams send out seven members. Each member fights one-on-one and must continue battling until they're defeated. If a member wins, they keep fighting the next opponent—this goes on until all seven members of one team are defeated.
Zhu Zhuqing tilted her head thoughtfully. "So it's all one-on-one battles instead of a team fight? That's perfect. All of us get to participate—and our support types are no pushovers either."
Tang Yin nodded, a confident smirk on his face. "Exactly."
Just then, the tent flap rustled as Qin Ming stepped in briskly. "Everyone, the draw results for tomorrow's match are in."
He paused, reflecting with regret, fist clenched as he spoke, "Our first-round opponents… are the Barak Team, representing Barak Kingdom—one of the four great vassal kingdoms of the Tian Duo Empire. They hold two quotas in this qualifying round."
Flender sighed. "Haiz… Back when we were still at Shrek Academy, we also fought for that quota from Barak Kingdom. But because of the suppression from the royals, we failed to secure a spot in the qualifying round."
Tang Yin scrunched his nose in disgust at the mention of those arrogant nobles.
Qin Ming exhaled slowly, frustration deep in his voice. "I never even got the chance to step onto the tournament stage. Missing out on Continental Elite Tournament… it's become one of the greatest regrets of my life."
Zhao Wuji clenched his fists, jaw tight. "Barak…!"
Tang Yin calmly placed a hand on his shoulder, eyes sharp with resolve. "Senior Qin Ming, don't worry. I'll destroy Barak Academy myself—and humiliate them in front of everyone. Consider it revenge… on your behalf."
Qin Ming nodded, visibly moved by the declaration.
Flender and Zhao Wuji exchanged knowing glances—then smirked in unison, already savoring the thought of Barak Academy's impending humiliation.
Next Morning,
Inside the arena the audience seat was mostly sparse whereas the whole arena was filled with armored guards wearing Tian Duo emblem.
The Emperor announced loud and clear as the guards kneel down showcasing their respect:
"I hearby announce Continental Elite Young Soul Master Tournament's Qualifying round officially begins! Looking forward to your excellent performance!"
Tang Yin rolled his eyes at Huo Wu, who kept sneaking glances at him every now and then like a lovesick fox. Shui Bing'er wasn't any better—she was quietly watching him from the corner of her eye, and the moment their gazes met, she quickly looked away like a startled deer. He couldn't help but chuckle and decided to walk over to say hello.
Seeing Tang Yin approaching, Shui Bing'er immediately panicked, her fingers fidgeting nervously as she poked them together. Shui Yue'er, spotting her sister's flustered state, leaned in with sparkling eyes ready to tease—but one death glare from Bing'er shut her down before she could seek her own doom.
"Hello, Miss Bing'er," Tang Yin greeted with a teasing grin. "Nice to see you again. I promise to give you that passionate battle you've been so eager for. So—tell me—are you confident enough to face me in the qualifying round?"
Shui Bing'er instinctively looked up to meet his gaze, not wanting to appear weak. But almost immediately, her courage crumbled, and she blushed, breaking eye contact again. Just as she was about to trip over her own words, Huo Wu stepped forward and planted herself directly in front of Tang Yin with an aggrieved expression.
"Why didn't you come greet me first?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing. "Is she prettier than me or something?"
Tang Yin blinked, momentarily stunned by her bluntness. Then he let out a low laugh, using it as a lighthearted distraction.
"Didn't I promise to fight you in the finals? Miss shui Bing'er here once accused me of looking down on her, so I figured I'd take this chance to challenge her properly during the qualifiers."
"Oh, that's all!" Huo Wu beamed, instantly mollified.
Shui Bing'er, on the other hand, felt a faint pang of disappointment, only to immediately shake her head and scold herself. What am I even thinking? She straightened her back and met his gaze again, this time with fiery defiance. "Hmph. You'd better go all out this time!"
The qualifying round started with a bang as the teams began their respective battle. Blazing Academy, Tianshui Academy, Thunderclap Academy and Godwind Academy all won every match.
The Barak Team had already made their presence known earlier—storming over with the clear intent to provoke. Their arrogant taunts managed to disgust Tang Yin even more, and he coolly vowed to humiliate them with the most disgraceful defeat possible.
Tang Yin wasn't afraid—but he wasn't stupid either. It wasn't that he went out of his way to hide his talent, but he had no tolerance for humiliation. Especially not from snotty nobles—those, he hated to the bone.
The host's voice suddenly boomed through the arena:
"Next match—Lanba Team vs Barak Team!"
Cheers erupted across the stands.
"Entering the arena—the captain of the Seven Dragons of Lanba Team, Tang Yin!"
Tang Yin strolled in with a charming smile, radiating confidence with every step. Despite the sparse crowd, a small wave of excitement stirred—even among rival team supporters. No one had expected Lanba to send out their ace this early.
"Barak Team's first participant: Lofchy, a Soul Ancestor! Looks like they're aiming for an early win!"
From the opposite side, Lofchy strutted in with a cocky grin, pulling faces at Tang Yin in an obvious attempt to provoke him. But Tang Yin didn't even spare him a glance.
"Match start!" the host shouted.
In an instant, Tang Yin vanished from Lofchy's sight—his movement so swift and fluid it left afterimages in the air. Gasps rippled through the audience.
A chill ran down Lofchy's spine as he felt a terrifying aura behind him. Before he could even turn, a glowing white fist crashed into his back, sending his body flying across the arena.
But Tang Yin was already ahead of him. Before Lofchy hit the ground, Tang Yin struck again—this time a brutal blow to the gut that cracked several of his vertebrae.
And he didn't stop there.
Tang Yin's fists rained down like a storm—ten clean, devastating strikes in total—before he finally stepped back. Lofchy, though not dead, had long since passed out from the pain, his body limp and fractured.
The rest of the Barak Team froze in terror.
Their captain had just been demolished before their eyes. None of them wanted to step into that ring. But with Lofchy's father being a high-ranking minister of education in the Barak Kingdom, retreat was not an option.
Backing down would mean consequences far worse than a beating. In that moment, they truly regretted provoking this grandpa just to curry favor with their useless captain.
So, one by one, they stepped into the ring.
And one by one, they fell.
Salas watched with growing excitement—yes, this was it. This was the incredibly powerful skill that had caught his attention. His eyes gleamed with ambition as he made up his mind: he would convince the Pope to obtain this skill from Tang Yin, no matter the cost.
The next six matches were nothing short of merciless. Tang Yin didn't grant them the dignity of a proper fight—each bout was a savage, one-sided beating.
By the end, All that remained of once-arrogant Barak Team were broken bones, battered faces, pride crushed to nothing. Lanba Team had made their statement—and Tang Yin had kept his promise.
The arena fell silent—not from boredom, but from stunned awe, a mix of respect and fear thick in the air. No one wanted to face this monster in their match.
In the stands, Shui Bing'er of the Tianshui Team and Huo Wu of the Blazing Team both stared in disbelief, their expressions frozen.
They had previously asked Tang Yin to fight them seriously. But now, after witnessing the utter devastation he left behind, they weren't so sure they still wanted that.
Tang Yin gave them a casual wave, as if to say, Get ready—your turn is coming. Then he turned and walked back to the Lanba Team's stand, where Zhao Wuji & Flender welcomed him with praise and visible excitement.
Qin Ming stepped forward, giving Tang Yin a firm pat on the back and offering an honest, grateful smile. Then he excused himself with a nod. "I'll go follow up on the next opponents. You all focus on preparing for tomorrow."
A few moments later, he returned with a grin and teased Tang Yin as he broke the news.
"We're up against Blazing Academy in the next round—looks like you're in for a tough time," he said, clearly enjoying himself.