"Ssshhhhh…"
Yunchuan's flame breath continued to pour across the sky, evaporating mist from the petals as white steam blanketed the field. But no matter how he pushed it, he couldn't burn them away completely.
The flame dragon persisted—roaring, spitting searing jets of fire.
But these dew-laden petals, soaked with moisture, weren't designed at random. They were one of Chrysanthemum Douluo's most specific counter-techniques, carefully chosen to resist flame-based opponents. Water counters fire—a simple law. And in combat, simplicity is often deadly.
Under Chrysanthemum Douluo's calm control, the petals closed in.
They spiraled and swirled around the fire dragon, surrounding it like a trap made of mist and softness. Burn as it might, hissing with vapor at every contact point, the tide of petals pressed closer.
"Extinguish."
As the command fell, the dew-drenched petals condensed and burst—unleashing a plume of vapor so dense it began to suffocate flame itself. Trapped inside this cage of wet petals, the fire-form dragon burned mightily… and then flickered.
Then faded.
With a slow sigh of vanishing steam, all that was left in its place was emptiness.
But Yunchuan's expression didn't falter.
Behind him, the fiery figure of the Immovable Flame Monarch lifted both arms again—flames surged outward.
He wasn't done.
Fire burst upward in new forms—some becoming blazing phoenixes with wings of golden-red, others shapeshifting into new agile dragons. Like sparks of divine will, tiny flamebirds also peeled away from the main mass—sharp, erratic, unpredictable.
The fire dragon spat more flames.
The phoenixes rained fire-feathers like arrows from heaven.
The tiny flamebirds darted left and right, trying to draw the Titled Douluo's attention.
It all looked chaotic. But there was rhythm behind the madness.
Chrysanthemum Douluo, sensing the difference, stopped underestimating the onslaught. He raised a palm, and soul power bloomed outward.
A translucent barrier of thick energy wrapped around him like a glass sphere, keeping the agile little flamebirds at bay. These birds weren't ordinary—they carried Yunchuan's spiritual signature and his branded flame attribute. If even one of them clung to your body, it wouldn't simply singe—it would try to burn through bone.
With defenses secure, Chrysanthemum Douluo cast his gaze across the sky-full of fiery beasts.
Dragons. Phoenixes. Blazing tigers. Serpents. Lions…
Each one fueling the next, crashing toward him.
And then—another soul ring lit beneath his feet.
From his spiritual flower, the moisture-rich petals scattered again… but this time, cold mist clung to them. Frost began to blossom from their centers.
Ice.
The terrain shifted.
The next wave he summoned was no longer just misty petals—they were crystalline, water-frozen and shimmering like shards of frozen silk.
When they met the flame creatures, there was no contest.
No clash. No struggle.
Just cold.
Each impact let out a sharp hiss as fire died instantly, choked out by freezing frost. One by one, the phoenixes became cinders, the fire-lions dissolved into flame shadows, the dragons scattered before forming.
Only the tiny birds managed to slip through on occasion.
But even then—they could not break his soul shield.
Back on the ground, Yunchuan's face remained stoic, hands weaving seal after seal as the fire creations kept coming.
To Chrysanthemum Douluo, it might've looked like he was wasting energy.
To an outsider—it was an elaborate light show.
But the truth?
Yunchuan wasn't attacking blindly.
He was stalling.
He was building.
He was cooking something deeper beneath the surface—and every creature he formed, every burst of fire released, was cover.
'He's not giving up…' Chrysanthemum Douluo narrowed his eyes, watching the waves of fire.
'He must know this won't breach my defenses… So why is he pushing this hard?'
'Is he stalling for time? Trying to drain my soul power through attrition? Or maybe… triggering some delayed ability?'
He didn't speak—but the gears turned fast.
Elsewhere, seated at a safe distance with crossed arms and calm demeanor, Bibi Dong observed it all with narrowed eyes.
Once again, she wasn't surprised.
Yunchuan's creations were impressive—but she knew the truth: no matter how strong his body or deep his power reserves, his current cultivation level remained Soul Sage.
And that fact defined everything.
Technique, control, creativity—he had all those.
But soul technique power had ceilings tied to levels.
Like opening a dam's floodgates—but through a tiny pipe.
Even if Yunchuan had power equivalent to a Titled Douluo stuffed into his body, he could only unleash it slowly, in pieces, through the channels of a Soul Sage. His flame might be vast—but the shape he could sculpt it into was limited by that bottleneck.
And against Chrysanthemum Douluo?
Experience. Technique. Efficiency. Timing. Pressure.
None of those things could be brute-forced.
Still—she smiled faintly.
Let him try.
…
Back on the battlefield, Chrysanthemum Douluo took a quiet breath as yet another wave of fire came barreling toward him.
This time, flame serpents. Tigers. Dogs.
All different.
All doomed.
Still he countered with refined frost petals, each flutter as polished as dance. Even with rings lit, Chrysanthemum Douluo hadn't used more than four soul skills the entire match.
He was holding back.
Completely.
Letting Yunchuan act. Letting him display.
Letting him test.
Because Chrysanthemum Douluo knew—this fight wasn't about winning.
It was about belief.
He waited until another cluster of fire attacks scattered across his shield before speaking calmly under his breath:
"Xiao Chuan, if you're trying to wear me down—don't."
"You're still a Soul Sage. Even if your spiritual strength and soul power put you on par with low-level Titled Douluos…"
"…I'm rank ninety-five."
"Every soul ring after ninety strengthens beyond imagining."
"My reserves far dwarf yours."
"And time's up."
As he spoke, more frost streamed around him.
His tone shifted.
"Let's end the warm-up."
Yunchuan's heart stirred.
He felt it.
The temperature changed. The air got denser. The playful energy from earlier vanished without warning.
Now? The real battle began.
(End of Chapter)