Yunluo City, located deep within the Star Luo Empire and only a few hundred miles from the capital, was a flourishing city long known for commercial prosperity—a bright, peaceful pearl of the empire's territory.
But today, that pearl's tranquility was shattered without warning.
At first, only faint sounds came from the sky. Before the aftershocks faded, two terrifying fluctuations of soul power erupted in the distance.
Ordinary citizens panicked, hiding at home, while the city's soul masters sensed the terrifying aura from the outskirts. The braver among them moved in that direction, but none dared approach, only daring to watch from miles away.
In the distant sky, two figures stood, tearing clouds apart with their escaping energy.
One was a middle-aged man with an imposing build, mountain-like stature, and fists wrapped in the light of soul power, exuding unmatched pressure. Most striking of all were the nine soul rings around him: yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black, and finally, a red soul ring that seemed to condense endless blood and power—
A hundred-thousand-year soul ring!
The pressure from this ring alone made soul masters watching from afar gasp, their own soul power almost stalling.
On Douluo Continent, the hundred-thousand-year soul ring is the greatest glory countless soul masters dream of, symbolizing the pinnacle of power and opportunity. But over the past century, such soul rings have vanished, becoming nearly legendary.
Facing this imposing man was an old man with white hair and beard, also shining with nine soul rings: two yellow, three purple, four black—marking him as a titled Douluo at the peak of soul masters. Yet at this moment, he seemed miserable—his robes torn, blood at his lips, his eyes filled with anger and unhidden fear.
Boom!
The imposing man made no special moves—just a single punch. The air was compressed by ultimate force, a sharp sonic boom trailing behind, as the punch landed like a meteor.
The old man roared in anger, crossing his arms and condensing a thick soul shield before him.
But in an instant, the shield shattered, and the old man was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, barely managing to stabilize himself after gouging a deep ravine in the ground.
He spat another mouthful of crimson blood, his face pale. Staring at the imposing man, his eyes shone with disbelief and humiliation, and he roared in fury.
"Is your Body Sect really trying to kill us all?!"
His voice, empowered by soul force, thundered across the land.
Body Sect?
The unfamiliar name reached the ears of soul masters watching from afar, leaving them staring at each other in confusion and curiosity.
Hearing the name, they surmised: this imposing man must be from that sect! And "Body"—could it be related to the Body Martial Soul? Did this terrifying powerhouse possess the body martial soul?
As this speculation spread, it sent shockwaves through everyone's hearts.
"Body martial soul? How can that be?!"
A middle-aged Soul Emperor shouted in disbelief. "Wasn't it long recognized that Body Martial Souls have limited potential? Even the Spirit Hall's records say so!"
"Right! I've never heard of a powerful soul master breaking through with Body Martial Soul, let alone… a Titled Douluo with a hundred-thousand-year ring!"
A female Soul King beside him trembled, her voice shaking. The scene before her overturned everything they knew.
Because Body Martial Souls act directly on oneself, they are considered somewhat special in the early stages, but generally thought to grow very slowly, with soul skills limited to functional enhancements to body parts, lacking strong attack, defense, or support abilities.
In Douluo history, almost no famous powerhouses possessed Body Martial Souls. Over time, the concept that "Body Martial Souls are half-abandoned" became deeply rooted, even acknowledged and recorded by the Spirit Hall.
But now, a Titled Douluo with a hundred-thousand-year ring and an Body Martial Soul stood before them, overwhelming a fellow Titled Douluo and making him cough blood and retreat. It stunned them all.
Facing the old man's roar, satisfaction flashed in the imposing man's eyes, but his expression remained cold and mocking.
"Hmph, if you had the nerve to attack our Body Sect, you must have been prepared for total annihilation."
Before he finished, his figure moved again, launching himself forward.
He used no soul skills—only pure physical strength and speed. Yet the pressure was more terrifying than any flashy soul technique.
Seeing the man approach, despair flashed in the old man's eyes, but there was even greater madness. He knew mercy was impossible today, so he might as well give it his all.
Gritting his teeth, the seventh and ninth soul rings on his body lit up at the same time.
"Seventh Soul Skill—Martial Soul True Body!"
"Ninth Soul Skill—Nether Soul Devouring Claw!"
His body transformed dramatically, cloaked in dark mist, his hands morphing into massive, black-flamed claws, even warping the space around him.
Yet faced with the old man's desperate strike, the imposing man didn't flinch. Instead, a flash of battle-lust shone in his eyes.
"Life-and-death struggle!"
He shouted low, and what followed was a scene no one would ever forget.
Suddenly, his torso radiated blinding light, a silver phantom appearing that matched his body exactly. In the next moment, the imposing man's silver fist, wrapped in momentum, smashed down with overwhelming force.
No tricks, no variations—just absolute strength.
Boom—
The moment the silver fist-shadow touched the Nether Soul Devouring Claw, the black flames and claws melted and crumbled like ice and snow under the sun.
The old man's terrified expression froze—the proud ninth soul skill was utterly fragile before this ultimate blow.
The fist-shadow punched through his defenses, striking his chest with a heavy thud.
Crack…
Even from afar, one could faintly hear the sound of bones breaking.
The old man's body was flung like a stone from a catapult, blood trailing in a sad arc, finally smashing into a distant mountain wall and embedding itself deep. Whether he lived or died was unknown.
But the imposing man clearly had no intention of letting him live. His figure flickered again, chasing after the mountain wall.
Soon after, more violent clashes and roars echoed, ending with one last miserable howl abruptly cut off.
When all was calm, the imposing man emerged slowly from the smoke and dust. His body was spotless, only the nine soul rings still orbiting, especially the red hundred-thousand-year ring radiating suffocating majesty.
Yet strangely, after disposing of his opponent, he didn't leave immediately. He simply stood quietly atop the mountain, calmly surveying the distant watchers, as if an emperor patrolling his realm, or perhaps, declaring something to the entire continent.
A body martial soul… could it truly be so powerful?!
At this moment, there was no more doubt in the hearts of all the onlookers.
That torso phantom, that ultimate pure strength, convinced them—the imposing man's martial soul was indeed the Body Martial Soul: the body itself.
It was a type of martial soul entirely beyond their understanding.
"Body Sect… what kind of existence is this?!"
That question echoed in everyone's hearts, alongside an inexpressible awe.
...
Bonus chapter at 300 PS