The Four Demon Saints fell silent upon hearing Hun Tiandi's words.
For a moment, they found his reasoning convincing.
Indeed, although Hun Xiu was only a Two-Star Dou Huang, who would truly judge him by the standards of an ordinary Dou Huang?
That day, the amount of Heaven and Earth Dou Qi he absorbed and devoured stirred up a vortex storm—the momentum was terrifying.
That volume of devoured Dou Qi… even a typical Dou Zun expert couldn't manage such a feat.
He may be a Dou Huang, but clearly not one that could be compared to others of the same realm.
On the arena stage, with Hun Xiu's arrival, all eyes turned toward this legendary "young master."
Although the position of Young Master remained officially vacant—awaiting the battle to decide it ten years from now—Hun Xiu's excellence led many elders and even younger members of the Soul Clan to subconsciously see him as the rightful heir.
Even though Hun Xiu had neither title nor official status, that belief remained unshaken.
If not Hun Xiu, then who?
Sensing all the eyes on him, Hun Xiu merely gave a slight smile and nodded politely before stepping off to the side with his wooden sword in hand.
He still maintained that same cold and aloof demeanor, unwilling to mingle with others.
Alone in a corner, he stood apart—so starkly different from the rest.
Yet, no one dared question him.
After Hun Xiu took the stage, Hun Dun announced the final name.
"Hun Feng."
Whoosh!
As Hun Dun's voice fell, Hun Feng soared into the sky from the crowd, fiery red wings unfurling behind him as he gracefully landed on the stage.
He glanced briefly at Hun Xiu—then turned his eyes away.
Hun Dun gazed upon the one hundred participants on stage and waved his hand. A hundred glowing black orbs floated into the air above the arena.
"These orbs each contain a number from 1 to 100. Number 1 will face 100. Number 2 will face 99. And so on."
"Draw your lots."
"Yes, Elder!"
Upon hearing this, the participants wasted no time and began grabbing the orbs.
Once everyone had taken theirs, only one orb remained in the air.
Hun Xiu, unhurried, reached out to grab the final one.
"One hundred."
Looking at the number, he paused for a moment.
"To think I picked last and still got number 100… fate, perhaps?"
Drawing number 100 meant he would fight in the first match.
Once all orbs had been distributed, Hun Dun formed a hand seal, and the entire arena began to shake violently.
A formless force slowly lifted the arena into the air, suspending it midair.
After everything settled, Hun Dun announced:
"Number 1 and Number 100, step forward."
Hun Xiu remained motionless. He seemed curious—who was the unfortunate soul that had to face him in the very first round?
Was it a stroke of luck? Or misfortune?
At that moment, Hun Douluo stepped forward, twin ponytails swaying behind her as she walked confidently to Hun Dun and greeted him respectfully.
"Elder."
"Mm."
"Damn…"
"HOLY—Number 1 is Hun Douluo. Who's Number 100?" Hun Dan cried out in surprise.
Though Hun Douluo was a woman, her strength was undeniable.
An Eight-Star Dou Wang, she was no easy opponent. Whoever drew her first match—should they be pitied or celebrated?
Everyone looked at each other, curious.
But still, no one had seen the one who drew number 100 step forward.
Just as curiosity peaked—
Hun Xiu moved.
He walked slowly to Hun Dun and respectfully said:
"Elder."
"F—…"
"C—…"
(That's a green plant, you know.)
As Hun Xiu stepped forward, many people's eyes nearly popped from their sockets.
None of them had expected that he would be number 100.
Moments ago, they had been feeling sorry for Hun Douluo's opponent… now?
They realized they'd been worrying about the wrong person.
Now, it was Hun Douluo they should be mourning.
To face Hun Xiu in the very first match—was that good luck, or the worst possible fate?
In their hearts, everyone silently observed a three-second moment of silence for her.
Hun Douluo, who moments ago had bristled with confidence, stood frozen when she saw her opponent.
She wasn't struck dumb by Hun Xiu's appearance, but rather by the sheer disbelief of who she was facing in her very first round.
Did she even have a chance to win?
No.
Not a single one.
Hun Xiu himself hadn't expected that his opponent would be this twin-tailed girl.
He was caught off guard.
Was he really supposed to fight a girl?How could he bring himself to strike?
Beating up a girl?
No one would feel comfortable doing that—especially not in front of a huge audience. It was far too awkward.
Hun Dun glanced at both of them, then said, "Begin. I don't think I need to teach you what to do."
With that, he stepped back—and gestured for the others to step away as well.
The two stood facing each other in silence.
It was awkward.
Actually, it was only awkward for Hun Xiu.
Because in a moment, he was going to have to hit a woman. In front of all these people.
How could that not be uncomfortable?
Hun Douluo, on the other hand, simply felt resigned.
She didn't mind hitting a man.
Her problem was that… she couldn't win.
Knowing full well she had no chance, yet she had to fight anyway.
She introduced herself:"I'm Hun Douluo."
"Mm."Hun Xiu nodded slightly, still holding his wooden sword.Cool and calm, he replied:"Hun Xiu."
Then said plainly:
"I don't hit women. You should concede."
His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly across the arena. Many of the female warriors nearby frowned slightly.
Across from him, Hun Douluo scowled.
"Are you looking down on me?"
"No."
Hun Xiu shook his head calmly."I'm simply stating the facts. You're not my match. Just admit defeat."
"I don't want to fight a woman."
"You are looking down on me."Hun Douluo snorted coldly.
Whoosh—!
A violent gust of Dou Qi erupted from her body, forming a swirling windstorm. The pressure rustled Hun Xiu's white robes and swept through his long black hair.
But Hun Xiu stood still—unmoved.
Even as his clothes and hair danced in the wind, he didn't budge.
He simply held his wooden sword, speaking in an even tone:
"Why insist?"
"You are not my opponent, and I have no desire to harm you. Concede—it's the best choice for both of us. You know you can't win."
"Why not accept defeat with dignity?"
"Hmph…"
Hun Douluo clenched her fists, scowling.
"Dignity? This lady has no need for dignity."
"I'll give you a chance instead—You strike first."
Hun Douluo knew she couldn't win—but that didn't mean she had to accept the way Hun Xiu talked to her.
She might lose the match, but she refused to lose her momentum.
If he wanted her to admit defeat, then let him make the first move.
She might fall, but not kneel.