Chapter 86: Liu Yuan's Choice, Collective Participation in the Soul Master Tournament!
Du Busi reclined in the heavy, obsidian-carved Sect Master's throne.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
His calloused fingertip struck the polished armrest in a slow, rhythmic cadence. Each dull thud echoed through the cavernous, empty hall, measuring the weight of his thoughts. He was hesitating.
Liu Yuan was standing at the precipice of Rank 50. This wasn't just another bottleneck; it was a critical threshold. Every sliver of soul power he condensed right now would dictate the foundation and stability of his impending Secondary Awakening. A single misstep could fracture his immense potential.
Under normal circumstances, Du Busi's philosophy was absolute: Body Sect disciples belonged in the mountains, tempering their flesh and purifying their origin bloodlines through brutal, unyielding physical conditioning. He held nothing but disdain for the flashy, superficial spectacle known as the Continental Advanced Soul Master Academy Elite Tournament.
To a man who had ripped apart mountains with his bare hands, a staged arena fight was mere child's play. The Body Sect's ancient legacy didn't need the applause of commoners to validate its supremacy.
Yet, Du Busi was no stubborn fool blinded by tradition. His piercing gaze dropped to the sealed parchment resting on his lap.
A true Soul Master wasn't forged purely by meditating in a quiet room. Soul power ranks and the raw destructive force of soul skills were only half the equation. The rest was carved out in the crucible of life-and-death combat, honing a killer's instinct and an unbreakable state of mind. Secluded cultivation offered safety, but safety bred complacency. Complacency bred bottlenecks.
This was exactly why he had been pushing Liu Yuan and the younger generation into the wild lately. The upcoming tournament, despite its pageantry, was a gathering of the continent's most vicious and talented youth. The sheer variety of bizarre martial souls, unpredictable soul tools, and desperate tactics they would face was a rare grinding stone.
If Liu Yuan could handle that chaotic, high-pressure environment without losing his cold, calculating edge—if he could force a breakthrough under the crushing weight of an entire continent's scrutiny—the resulting foundation would be forged in steel. It would eclipse a year of swinging weights in the sect's courtyards.
Standing quietly in the shadows of the hall, Elder Chen watched the subtle shifts in the Sect Master's heavy brow. Sensing the opening, he stepped forward, his voice measured. "Sect Master, since His Majesty has formally extended the invitation, and you are already weighing the benefits of live combat training... why not leave the choice to the boy?"
Elder Chen offered a faint, knowing smile. "They are the ones who will be bleeding in the arena. We should hear their resolve."
The rhythmic tapping on the armrest ceased. Du Busi slowly nodded, the harsh lines of his face softening just a fraction. "A fair point. A blade must want to cut before you swing it."
He shifted his imposing bulk toward the armored guards stationed at the heavy oak doors. "Fetch them," his voice boomed, instantly shattering the hall's quiet. "Bring Liu Yuan, Long Aotian, Vina, Chen Lu, Wang Yanfeng, Mu Xue, and Gu Tong. All seven of them. Now."
The guards bowed sharply, their armor clanking, before sprinting down the stone corridors.
The wait was brief. Within minutes, the heavy doors groaned open, admitting a wave of sharp, youthful vitality into the ancient hall. Seven figures strode in, their presence instantly altering the room's atmosphere.
Liu Yuan led the formation. His posture was relaxed, yet his dark eyes held that familiar, chilling stillness—a predator casually surveying its territory. Long Aotian flanked him, his heavy, grounded footsteps echoing with the latent power of his Silver-level awakening. Vina walked on Liu Yuan's other side, a serene, polite smile gracing her lips, her posture carrying the effortless grace of Heavenly Soul royalty.
Behind the core trio, Chen Lu, Wang Yanfeng, Mu Xue, and Gu Tong fell into a disciplined line, their eyes bright with anticipation.
"Greetings, Sect Master. Greetings, Elder Chen," the seven voices rang out in perfect, respectful unison, bowing at the waist.
Du Busi waved a massive hand, dismissing the formalities with a gruff exhale. He didn't waste time on pleasantries, immediately laying out the contents of the imperial parchment. He detailed the Heavenly Soul Emperor's desperate bid for glory and the formal request for the Body Sect's youth to step onto the continent's grandest stage.
"That is the long and short of it," Du Busi rumbled, leaning forward so his shadow fell over the group. "The Emperor wants you to wear his colors. He wants you to bleed for the Empire's prestige. My stance? Cultivation is absolute. Parading around an arena steals time from your training. But..." He locked eyes with Liu Yuan. "I want to hear your thoughts. Speak freely."
A heavy silence descended upon the stone hall. Not a single disciple rushed to speak. Instead, as if guided by an invisible tether, Long Aotian, Vina, and the other four smoothly shifted their attention to the young man standing at the vanguard.
Liu Yuan's recent displays of ruthless efficiency and overwhelming talent had cemented his absolute authority among his peers. He wasn't just a fellow disciple anymore; he was their undisputed core. They would follow his lead without question.
Liu Yuan held the silence for a moment, his Double Pupils faintly catching the torchlight as he calculated the variables.
"Master," his voice was smooth, carrying a calm pragmatism that belied his age. "I believe we should accept."
He cast a brief, assessing glance at the eager faces of his martial siblings before looking back to Du Busi. "If we factor in the travel to Star Luo City and the duration of the tournament itself, we are looking at an investment of roughly one month."
"A month of secluded meditation here in the sect will yield marginal gains in soul power. It is predictable. Stagnant. However, stepping onto that stage means colliding with the absolute elite of our generation. Testing our limits against unfamiliar martial souls, unpredictable soul tools, and foreign tactics in a live-fire environment... that kind of pressure cannot be replicated in a sparring ring."
A faint, dangerous smirk touched the corner of Liu Yuan's mouth. "For those of us wielding Body Martial Souls, pain and pressure are our greatest teachers. The threat of genuine defeat is the perfect catalyst to shatter a bottleneck."
Long Aotian didn't miss a beat. He slammed a fist into his open palm, his eyes burning with competitive fire. "Junior Brother is entirely correct. I'm sick of sparring with the same people. We know each other's breathing patterns, let alone our soul skills. We need fresh meat. Facing the outside world's bizarre soul tools and exotic martial souls will sharpen our instincts for future battles."
Vina took a half-step closer to Liu Yuan, her alignment clear. "I stand with Liu Yuan unconditionally," she stated, her tone gentle but firm. "Besides, if Imperial Father is formally requesting our aid, I wish to secure that glory for the Heavenly Soul Empire."
With the three pillars of their generation united, Chen Lu, Wang Yanfeng, Mu Xue, and Gu Tong eagerly nodded along, their blood already boiling at the prospect of crushing the continent's so-called geniuses.
Du Busi watched the fierce, unyielding spirit radiating from the youths before him. The lingering shadows of doubt in his ancient eyes melted away, replaced by a deep, swelling pride. These were his wolves. They weren't meant to be kept in a cage.
"Good!" Du Busi roared, slapping the armrest as he surged to his feet. His massive frame seemed to block out the light in the hall, his voice echoing like a thunderclap. "Since you have the hunger for it, then go! Show the continent the terror of the Body Sect!"
But just as quickly as his booming laughter filled the room, his expression darkened. The jovial atmosphere vanished, replaced by a suffocating, deadly seriousness.
"I will send word to the Emperor to handle the bureaucratic nonsense. However..." Du Busi's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "I have one absolute condition. I will personally serve as your leading instructor for this expedition."
Elder Chen's head snapped up, genuine shock breaking his usual calm. "Sect Master? You intend to escort them yourself?"
Du Busi let out a cold, contemptuous snort that rattled the nearby weapon racks. He turned his gaze toward the horizon, his aura flaring with suppressed malice. "After the absolute farce Shrek Academy pulled last time? You think I'd let my most prized disciples wander into the open without a leash on those hypocrites?"
"On top of that, Star Luo City is hosting this year. The place will be a cesspit of spies, assassins, and desperate nobles trying to secure talent. It's a chaotic, mixed bag. I will not leave their safety to chance."
A deep wave of relief washed over the disciples. Liu Yuan's lips twitched upward. Having a Level 98 Super Douluo—a man capable of leveling cities on a whim—acting as their personal bodyguard was absurd. In the ten-thousand-year history of the Soul Master Tournament, no team had ever been escorted by a monster of Du Busi's caliber. It was the ultimate safety net.
...
Hundreds of miles away, deep within the opulent, gold-gilded halls of the Heavenly Soul Empire's royal palace, the atmosphere was electric.
The Emperor of the Heavenly Soul Empire clutched a crumpled piece of parchment in his trembling hands. He shot up from his dragon throne, completely abandoning his imperial decorum as he paced frantically across the plush carpets.
"Excellent! Hahaha, excellent!" he muttered feverishly, his eyes wide with manic excitement. "Sect Master Du has actually agreed! Liu Yuan and the Body Sect's core... they are actually going to fight under our banner!"
Rationality told him to temper his expectations. Shrek Academy was an immovable mountain. They had monopolized the champion's throne for ten thousand unbroken years. The mere thought of challenging them was usually considered political suicide. But with Liu Yuan—the anomaly who had awakened the legendary Double Pupils—leading the charge... the Emperor couldn't stop the intoxicating fantasies from taking root in his mind.
What if?
The thought echoed like a drumbeat in his skull. What if Liu Yuan and his monstrous martial siblings actually crushed Shrek Academy's golden generation in front of the entire continent? What if they shattered that sickeningly arrogant, undefeated myth and dragged the championship trophy back to his palace?
If they pulled off the impossible, the Heavenly Soul Empire's prestige would eclipse the Sun Moon Empire and the Star Luo Empire overnight. The sheer influx of political power, raw talent, and economic use would be astronomical. A shiver of pure, unadulterated pleasure ran down the Emperor's spine.
He spun around, his imperial robes snapping through the air, and barked at his kneeling attendants. "Draft a decree immediately! The Royal Academy is to subordinate itself entirely to the Body Sect's needs. Empty the vaults if you have to! I want the highest grade of soul tools, the finest medicinal herbs, and flawless logistical support prepared by nightfall. Liu Yuan and his team are to want for absolutely nothing!"
...
Far to the south, within the pristine, hallowed grounds of Shrek Academy, the atmosphere was the exact opposite.
Inside Elder Xuan's private office, the air was so thick and oppressive it felt like breathing liquid lead.
Elder Xuan sat rigidly behind his heavy oak desk. His bloodshot eyes were locked onto a scattered pile of intelligence reports. The signature bronze wine gourd in his right hand—usually his most prized possession—was groaning under the immense, unconscious pressure of his grip. The metal was already denting inward, the fine wine inside sloshing violently.
The heavy wooden door slammed open, startling the old man. A high-ranking reconnaissance master from the Sea God's Pavilion intelligence division stumbled into the room, his chest heaving, his face pale with panic.
"Elder Xuan!" the operative gasped, bracing himself against the doorframe. "The spy network just confirmed it! The Body Sect's movements... they aren't a bluff."
The man swallowed hard, fear bleeding into his voice. "They... they are officially entering this year's Soul Master Tournament!"
CRACK.
The bronze gourd in Elder Xuan's hand finally ruptured, spilling expensive liquor across the intelligence reports. The old man didn't even blink. The nightmare he had feared most since expelling Liu Yuan was finally knocking on Shrek's front door.
[Akarin's Note:
Enjoying the story? Dropping a quick review, comment, or Power Stone means the world to me and keeps these daily updates flowing!
Want to read 50 chapters ahead or just want to help keep a shameless translator alive? (My livelihood actually depends on this, haha 😭). You can support me directly here:
(P.S. Just remove the brackets and replace the [.] with a regular dot . to use the links!)
✨ Patreon (50 Advanced Chapters): patreon[.]com/AkarinTL
☕ Ko-fi (Support / Sponsor): ko-fi[.]com/AkarinTL
🔗 All My Links: linktr[.]ee/AkarinTL
Thank you so much for reading and keeping this project alive!]