"Today…"
Tang Hao suddenly spoke, "if Xiao San had used the Hao Tian Hammer, the outcome might still be uncertain."
Dai Chengfeng smiled.
He offered no explanation, no rebuttal—just that quiet smile, his eyes glinting with something Tang Hao couldn't decipher.
Tang Hao assumed Dai Chengfeng had revealed his full strength today—the terrifying Killing God Domain, the self-created Blood-Slaughter Hundred Miles, his profound mastery of the White Tiger martial soul—all enough to crush peers and even defeat Soul Emperors.
But Tang Hao didn't know Dai Chengfeng still held cards close.
His fifth soul ring—a skill rivaling a hundred-thousand-year soul ring—he hadn't used.
His second martial soul, the Three-Eyed Golden Lion—he hadn't shown.
Even if Tang San had unleashed the Hao Tian Hammer, victory would've merely been… slightly more troublesome.
But none of this needed saying.
"Since you're here, Elder," Dai Chengfeng steered back to business, "are you here to fulfill our agreement?"
Tang Hao studied him deeply, then turned abruptly. "Follow me."
Two shadows darted over the city walls like phantoms—Spirit City's guards were irrelevant to them.
Beyond the walls, Tang Hao accelerated. Dai Chengfeng trailed effortlessly, maintaining a three-foot distance.
North they raced for an hour, reaching a desolate valley.
Moonlight bathed jagged rocks; a stream gurgled softly through the silence.
Tang Hao halted at the valley's heart, facing Dai Chengfeng. "The Hao Tian Sect's ultimate art, Great Sumeru Hammer, hinges on Ring Detonation."
"Ring Detonation," he explained, "is instantly igniting a soul ring's energy—detonating it for brief, terrifying power."
He raised his right hand. A pitch-black hammer phantom materialized—ancient, intricate runes glowing faintly. Even as a shadow, its aura choked the air.
Hao Tian Hammer.
The world's top weapon-type martial soul.
"Watch closely," Tang Hao's voice turned solemn. "I'll only demonstrate once. What you grasp is your destiny."
His aura shifted.
Dormant soul power erupted like a waking volcano.
Yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, black, black, red—nine soul rings rose from his feet. The final crimson ring, a hundred-thousand-year soul ring, froze the valley's air upon appearing.
But Tang Hao wasn't showcasing Douluo might.
With a thought, his first yellow century soul ring blazed—then—
Pop!
A faint shatter. The ring exploded into motes of light, surging into the Hao Tian Hammer phantom.
The hammer trembled, swelling visibly. Its runes pulsed gold, radiating violent, domineering force. Air warped; pebbles crumbled to dust.
"This is a hundred-year-ring detonation," Tang Hao's voice echoed through the energy surge. "Power increases by thirty percent."
He flicked the hammer phantom toward a distant hillock.
No sound.
Yet Dai Chengfeng watched the hill—and everything within a hundred zhang—vanish into fine dust, leaving a mirror-smooth depression as if the land had never existed.
Dai Chengfeng's pupils contracted.
This was just a century ring. What of a thousand-year? Ten-thousand-year? A hundred thousand?
Tang Hao didn't stop. The second yellow ring detonated.
The hammer phantom swelled a further three feet tall, runes flowing like molten lava. The pressure forced Dai Chengfeng to channel soul power to resist. Cracks spiderwebbed beneath his feet.
"Thousand-year ring," Tang Hao intoned. "Fifty percent power boost."
Another flick. A low mountain evaporated, leaving a bottomless pit with glassy walls—as if devoured whole.
The third purple ring shattered.
Dai Chengfeng grunted, stumbling back three steps, blood trickling from his lip.
Just observing—just the backlash—injured a Soul Emperor.
"Ten-thousand-year ring," Tang Hao's voice boomed like thunder. "Power doubles."
This time, he didn't strike afar. He raised the hammer phantom—then lowered it gently.
BOOOOM——!!!
A thousand foot radius of earth sank three feet—not collapsing, not cracking, but pressed down by unimaginable force.
The stream reversed. Boulders shattered. The valley's geography reshaped permanently.
Dai Chengfeng knelt on one knee, palms braced against the ground to avoid being flattened.
He lifted his head—no fear, only feverish focus.
He'd seen it clearly.
The rings weren't truly "exploding." It was a method—releasing a ring's energy and rules in an instant, converting it to pure power to amplify martial soul and attacks.
It demanded perfect understanding of ring structure, absolute soul power control, and near-mad courage.
After detonation, the ring vanished temporarily, needing time to regenerate.
Lose all rings in battle? Gain apocalyptic power briefly—then become a defenseless soul master, ripe for slaughter.
Thus was Ring Detonation—a desperate art, crippling oneself to cripple the enemy.
Tang Hao ceased. His rings faded; the valley's pressure ebbed like a tide. He seemed weary, yet his gaze remained sharp.
"Did you get it?"
Dai Chengfeng stood slowly, wiping blood from his lip.
Eyes closed, he replayed the scenes—ring fractures, energy flows, conversion nodes, his martial soul's thresholds…
After long moments, he opened his eyes—confused, then shook his head with a bitter smile.
"Your demonstration was earth-shattering, Elder… but too profound."
"I saw rings explode, power surge—but the principles, the mechanics? Utterly incomprehensible."
Tang Hao stared at him. Then, from beneath the hood came a nearly inaudible sigh—relief.
"Good," he said, voice calm, almost smug. "This is the Hao Tian Sect's secret, refined over ten thousand years. It's not something you can learn in one viewing. The fact that you stood firm against the backlash proves exceptional talent."
He turned, not looking back. "Our pact is fulfilled. I'll take my leave. Remember your promise."
Tang Hao vanished like mist, as if he'd never been.
Dai Chengfeng stood alone in the ravaged valley. Moonlight cast his long shadow.
After a while, he raised his right palm, eyes closed, feeling nothing—no soul power, no rings.
Night wind stirred his silver-white hair.
Suddenly, the faintest, deepest smile curved his lips.
"Ring Detonation… so that's how it works."
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