Chapter 55: Face and Fury
Jin Chuan was stunned by the heavy slap that landed on his face. His cheeks burned, not just from the impact, but from the confusion that flooded his mind.
He didn't understand. It was clearly his teacher who had led him down this path, who introduced him to the Holy Spirit Church and made him an evil soul master. How had he now become the one to blame?
"Teacher, you're an eight-ringed soul master…" Jin Chuan began, but another resounding slap silenced him.
He wanted to protest, his heart full of grievance, but the cold, piercing glare from the old man made the words stick in his throat.
The old man then turned to face Xiao Qiang, cupping his hands with a look of solemn sorrow. His expression was grief-stricken, as if he had just learned of his disciple's descent into darkness.
"My friend, my disciple… he has fallen into the path of evil for the sake of a breakthrough. This is my failure as a teacher. But he is still my student. Can you give me some face and allow me to handle this matter personally? Let me clean up the mess. Consider it a favor I owe you."
Jin Chuan twitched at those words. He wanted to speak, but the old man's grip on his shoulder tightened, silently restraining him.
In his heart, the old man was already cursing Jin Chuan a hundred times over.
How many times have I told him? Be cautious. Be patient. Survive first—talk about the future later. Without the power of a Titled Douluo, nothing is truly safe in this world. You must build strength. If necessary, only fight enemies at least twenty levels weaker than yourself. It's slow, but it's safe.
Yet this foolish boy didn't listen.
He not only fought others but dared to ask him, his teacher, to avenge him against a soul master just one ring below him. Did he even think about what kind of teacher would raise a disciple capable of defeating an evil soul master near level 60 while still only a four-ringed soul master?
That kind of teacher… could easily be a Titled Douluo.
Even with his level 88 cultivation as an evil soul master, he could only barely hold his own against a Titled Douluo. If Xiao Qiang's teacher turned out to be one of the stronger ones, then there would be no competition—he would be crushed.
Worse, Xiao Qiang's teacher hadn't even shown himself yet.
This could only mean one thing: he was likely hiding in the shadows, waiting, watching, ready to intervene. That's how he taught Jin Chuan too—only stepping in at the brink of death to give him a harsh lesson, to grind down his youthful arrogance.
Jin Chuan had shown promise these past few years. He was cautious, steady, never made moves without a ninety-eight percent chance of victory.
But today… today he got excited. Reckless. He had forgotten the possibility that the person before him might be more than what he seemed. The old man had already decided—this brat would be punished when they returned. As evil soul masters, hated by the world, they couldn't afford mistakes. There was no second chance in their line of work.
Xiao Qiang's eyes shifted to the old man's eight shimmering soul rings—two yellow, two purple, and four black. For a moment, fear flickered in his heart.
But then he remembered the Snow Emperor, the protector who watched silently from the shadows. He let out a quiet breath of relief. Without her, he would've had no chance. Eight-ringed or not, evil or not, such a powerful soul master wasn't someone he could resist on his own.
"Senior, you must be joking," Xiao Qiang said with a helpless smile. "Since you've spoken, let's consider the matter settled."
He didn't say this out of generosity.
The Snow Emperor wasn't his guardian angel. She only protected him, not his intentions or morals. If he pushed this further and tried to kill Jin Chuan, he might succeed—but if the old man stood by and later held a grudge, an eight-ringed soul master seeking revenge from the shadows could bring a very painful end.
A noble hero only saves when it's safe.
If it threatened his life or the lives of his loved ones, Xiao Qiang wouldn't take the risk. He wasn't a saint, and he wasn't about to sacrifice people he cared about for strangers. Letting Jin Chuan live today wasn't mercy—it was survival.
The old man blinked.
He had expected resistance. Arguing. Posturing. Maybe he would've even had to give up Jin Chuan entirely. But Xiao Qiang gave in almost too easily.
Wait. No—too easy.
His voice. His previous attitude when challenging a five-ring soul king while only having four rings himself. That kind of brashness could only mean one thing.
Youth.
Young. Wild. Arrogant.
Only someone backed by a strong force would dare provoke a powerful evil soul master with a lower cultivation level.
And Xiao Qiang? He'd clearly masked his true appearance. The average middle-aged man wouldn't risk fighting a five-ring evil soul king as a four-ring soul master.
This wasn't the real him. He was hiding his age—and probably his identity.
That meant Xiao Qiang had someone behind him. Likely an eight-ring Soul Douluo, possibly a bodyguard, maybe even a teacher. But the fact that he backed down so quickly meant this Soul Douluo's ring configuration wasn't as good as his own.
If his guardian had the same ring ratio—two yellow, two purple, four black—Xiao Qiang wouldn't be so easy to talk to.
There was only one explanation: he was unsure of winning.
Judging by the initial fear, followed by relief, the old man quickly calculated.
Three yellow, two purple, three black. That was likely the ring ratio of the Soul Douluo behind Xiao Qiang. A protector from a great clan—strong enough to suppress, but limited in growth. That kind of soul master couldn't reach level 85.
Such people often served as guards for true geniuses.
A family-backed genius with a personal Soul Douluo-level guard.
The old man did the math.
If Xiao Qiang's protector was at this level, then he had a ninety-eight percent chance of victory if he fought him directly.
Which meant, he wasn't just facing Xiao Qiang now. He was standing before the key to breaking through and becoming a Titled Douluo.
Excitement surged in the old man's heart.
He released his martial soul with a dark, chilling aura. His presence became suffocating.
"My friend," he said slowly. "Do you recognize my martial soul?"
Xiao Qiang narrowed his eyes. A massive, cursed-looking flag appeared in the old man's hands.
"…Ten Thousand Souls Banner?"
The old man's face twisted in fury.
"Boy! You dare call my Human Emperor Flag the Ten Thousand Souls Banner?! You court death!"