Chapter 107: I Am Disappointed
Too weak.
Luo Ling looked expressionlessly at the Shrek Seven Devils standing before him.
Tang San gritted his teeth and unleashed all his soul skills—Parasitic Seed, Spiderweb Restraint, Blue Silver Bind…
Not one of them touched the Warlock.
The parasitic seeds withered before hitting the ground, the webs disintegrated midair, and the Blue Silver Grass couldn't even breach the barrier of dark threads. By the time Tang San realized it, the entire stage was already wrapped in an unseen web of darkness.
Like a hunter weaving a cage in the night, death quietly closed in.
Yu Tianheng, fighting the Crow Shadow Puppet, was completely suppressed. The dark puppet showed no emotion, toying with him as though playing with a helpless insect.
Ma Hongjun and Zhu Zhuqing charged forward—one in flames, the other as a swift, clawed spirit cat.
The "Warlock" didn't move. He treated them as though they didn't exist.
Two Spirit Masters—hardly worth noticing.
Before they could reach him, both were frozen midair, restrained by invisible threads.
The dark silk tightened, draining every drop of their soul power in an instant.
Luo Ling flicked his hand, tossing their limp bodies aside like discarded dolls.
Suddenly, a figure appeared out of nowhere right before him.
Xiao Wu's third soul skill—Teleport.
She materialized in front of Luo Ling, her rose-colored eyes flashing with charm.
Her second soul skill—Alluring Confusion.
"No one ever told you not to use enchantment on someone you don't understand?" a low, chilling voice echoed across the arena.
Xiao Wu flinched.
Those crimson eyes before her felt strangely familiar. Then, a searing pain split through her mind.
Her face went pale; her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed unconscious.
The dark threads caught her gently and set her aside.
In a flash, three of the Shrek Seven Devils were down.
Oscar and Ning Rongrong, being purely supportive, had no fighting power. Only Tang San and Yu Tianheng remained standing.
Both glanced toward Luo Ling, their expressions dark.
The battle had ended far too quickly—they hadn't even seen how their teammates fell.
For the first time, the name "Warlock" inspired fear.
Humanity's greatest terror comes from the unknown—and everything about the Warlock was incomprehensible.
Tang San clenched his jaw, glaring at Luo Ling. He had imagined facing the Warlock before today, but reality was nothing like his visions.
A faint violet glow began to flicker in his eyes.
The Tang Sect's secret art—Purple Demon Eye—activated to its limit. Slowly, his face froze in disbelief.
He could finally see it.
Countless black threads webbed across the entire platform, forming a massive cage.
And within it stood the Warlock, like a demon controlling life and death.
Luo Ling noticed the violet shimmer in Tang San's gaze—and the horror dawning on his face.
"Do you see it now?" the Warlock rasped softly, laughter echoing in his voice.
He raised a hand; the air trembled, and suddenly—every thread of darkness became visible.
Gasps erupted throughout the arena as the countless silk lines glimmered like shadowy veins.
In the VIP stands, aside from a handful of experts who had already discerned Luo Ling's abilities, most watchers stared in shock.
"That's the Warlock's soul skill? Invisible dark threads?"
"He turned the entire arena into a cage—they never even noticed!"
"What kind of power is that?!"
…
"This is my first soul skill—Dark Weaving. It grants me control over threads of shadow."
Uncharacteristically, the Warlock explained his power aloud. His gaze fell upon Tang San, eyes gleaming faintly.
"To be honest, I'm disappointed," he said lightly.
"I don't usually pay attention to arena matches. I only came because I heard there was a genius with Blue Silver Grass and innate full spirit power. I wanted to see it for myself."
"Now that I have… your martial soul and techniques bore me."
The Warlock's emotionless tone echoed across the arena, but to Tang San, it hit like thunder.
To be humiliated so publicly—how could he not burn with rage?
In the dark corner of the stands, a cloaked Tang Hao scowled, eyes fixed on the Warlock upon the stage.
"If Sir Warlock finds this uninteresting, then I will have to fight you with my full strength," Tang San said through gritted teeth.
Behind him, eight sharp limbs unfolded slowly.
The Eight Spider Lances.
Gasps rippled through the massive crowd.
For a spirit master with Blue Silver Grass to sprout something so monstrous—it defied common sense.
However, the VIP observers recognized it instantly.
"An external spirit bone?" Yu Luomian exclaimed, eyes gleaming with greed.
Yu Yuanzhen's expression hardened in disbelief. External spirit bones—such treasures could not be sought, only chanced upon.
The entire VIP hall buzzed with covetous whispers.
On stage, Luo Ling remained calm and unreadable.
Tang San, on the other hand, moved at full speed. He activated the Tang Sect's Ghost Shadow Perplexing Steps to their utmost.
His silhouette dashed through the field of dark silks like a phantom, closing the distance toward Luo Ling.
The dark threads coiled at him from all sides, but he slipped through them gracefully—dodging every one.
A faint smile appeared on Tang San's lips. He saw hope.
But Luo Ling also smiled.
Finally reaching Luo Ling, Tang San sent Blue Silver Grass from beneath his feet, wrapping tightly around him.
His second and third soul rings flared at once. Seeds burst from the ground, and a massive web spread outward, covering Luo Ling completely.
The deep-blue vines bound him, cocooning him like prey trapped in silk.
Tang San froze—was it really that easy?
With the Warlock's terrifying power, he shouldn't have been caught so simply. Something felt off.
Still, Tang San clenched his teeth and drove his Eight Spider Lances straight toward the bound figure.
The audience held its breath, eyes wide. In the back, Ning Rongrong's face paled with worry.
(END CHAPTER)
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