Douluo Continent: The Twin Holy Dragons of Light and Darkness, the Dragon Emperor Breaks Through the

Jin Chen raised his head, his eyes still brimming with the excitement he felt when he saw the swords and knives in the blacksmith's shop during the day.

Ling Feng did not answer.

He looked into the distance, to the northern horizon, where dark clouds hung low and flashes of lightning could be seen.

That wasn't an ordinary thunderstorm; it was a perpetually frozen storm from the far north, one that never dissipated, and even Soul Saint level experts dared not approach it easily.

He tapped his fingers lightly twice on the dragon-patterned staff, producing a dull sound, as if making a decision.

"Jin Chen".

Ling Feng finally spoke.

Jin Chen immediately stood up and patted the dirt off his bottom.

"exist!"

"Go back to Wuhun City."

Jin Chen's smile froze on his face, and the maltose slipped from his fingers, falling to the ground and sticking to a small patch of withered grass.

"What?

Boss, you want me to go back?

Ling Feng turned around and looked at him.

Jin Chen is twelve years old this year, a level 49 Soul Master, and his Golden Dragon Crocodile Martial Soul is already top-tier among his peers.

At twelve years old and level forty-nine, in the far north, a death zone where even titled Douluo had to travel in groups, he couldn't even protect himself.

Ling Feng wouldn't gamble with his own life, nor would he gamble with his brother's.

"The far north is too dangerous."

Ling Feng's voice was calm, as if he were stating a fact.

“Ten thousand-year-old soul beasts are just ordinary predators there; there are at least ten beings stronger than me.”

"If you leave, I won't be able to protect you."

Jin Chen's lips moved, as if he wanted to refute, but when he looked into Ling Feng's eyes, there was no contempt or disdain, only a calmness and honesty that was impossible to refuse.

He swallowed the words that were about to come out, lowered his head, looked at the piece of maltose stuck to the ground with mud, and felt a pang of sadness in his heart.

"Boss, am I holding you back?"

His voice was small.

Ling Feng raised his hand and patted Jin Chen on the shoulder.

The blow wasn't heavy, but it made Jin Chen's body tremble slightly.

"It's not that we're holding others back, it's just that the time hasn't come yet."

With your Golden Dragon Crocodile Martial Soul, once you reach the Soul Saint realm, you'll have a place in the far north.

Now, go back and cultivate.

Jin Chen looked up, his eyes a little red, but he held back his tears.

He took a deep breath, straightened his chest, and clasped his hands in a fist salute to Ling Feng.

"Boss, I'll go back to Wuhun City and wait for you."

You came back alive.

Ling Feng nodded.

"it is good."

Jin Chen turned around and strode south.

He didn't turn around, afraid that if he did, he wouldn't want to leave.

Ling Feng stood on the hill, watching Jin Chen's figure grow smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared into the twilight.

He stood there for a long time, until it was completely dark and the stars began to shine, like cold eyes watching over the earth.

He pulled the Guixin Sword from the ground; the two characters "Guixin" on the sword gleamed faintly in the starlight.

He sheathed his sword in his soul tool, gripped the Dragon-Piercing Staff tightly, and turned to walk north.

There are no roads in the north.

Only endless wasteland, withered grasslands, jagged rocks, and increasingly cold air.

Ling Feng walked for three days. The grass grew shorter, the rocks grew larger, and the air grew colder.

On the fourth day, he stepped on the first snowflake.

The snow was thin, covering the withered yellow grass, and when you stepped on it, it made a crunching sound.

On the fifth day, the snow was ankle-deep.

On the sixth day, the snow was knee-deep.

On the seventh day, the snow was waist-deep.

Ling Feng released his soul power, forming a thin protective shield on his body to keep the wind and snow out.

His pace did not slow down; each step was nearly ten feet long, leaving a deep trail of footprints in the snow, which were quickly filled in by the fresh snow.

There are no clear boundary markers in the core area of ​​the far north, but Ling Feng knew that he had arrived when he sensed the aura of the first 100,000-year-old soul beast.

It was a giant frost bear, as big as a mountain, covered in white fur with icicles hanging from the tips of its fur, shimmering coldly in the moonlight.

It lay on an ice mound, breathing heavily, each exhale turning into a cloud of white mist that condensed into ice crystals in the air.

Its aura wasn't particularly strong, roughly equivalent to a level 93 Title Douluo in humans, but within its territory, its advantage was too great.

Ling Feng did not disturb it.

He completely withdrew his mental energy and slowed his pace, circling around the ice hill from its downwind side.

The core area of ​​the far north was more vast and more desolate than he had anticipated.

There are no trees, no flowers, no signs of life here, only ice, only snow, and only the ceaseless wind.

However, he also realized that what he wanted was not here.

"Forget it, I'm already level 80, I might as well go to the Star Dou Great Forest and get my eighth spirit ring."

"Let's go back to the Spirit Hall first, so as not to worry."

Chapter 168 Choosing the Eighth Soul Ring

When Ling Feng returned to Wuhun City, it was just before dawn.

The soldiers on night duty on the city wall saw the black figure and immediately knelt on one knee. Ling Feng did not stop and walked straight through the long street into the offering hall.

Qian Daoliu was already awake, or rather, he hadn't slept at all.

The old man sat beneath the angel statue, a half-finished chessboard laid out before him, the black and white pieces tangled together, the outcome unclear.

"Grandpa Qian, I want to go to the Star Dou Great Forest."

Ling Feng's voice was hoarse with the weariness of travel.

Qian Daoliu raised his head, his cloudy old eyes looking at him, and remained silent for a moment.

What level are you?

Level 80.

The eighth spirit ring is not yet available.

Qian Daoliu's brow twitched slightly.

Ling Feng reached level 80 in less than three months, going from level 78 to 80.

This speed would be incredible for any other Soul Master, but for Ling Feng, Qian Daoliu was no longer surprised.

What surprised him was something else—Ling Feng's eighth spirit ring wasn't something he would hunt himself, but something he would go to Gu Yuena for.

"you sure?"

A thousand streams flowed.

Ling Feng nodded.

"She promised me."

Qian Daoliu remained silent for a long time.

He knew about the deal between Ling Feng and the Silver Dragon King, knew that Gu Yuena had gambled on Ling Feng, and knew that the stakes in this gamble were the future of the entire Soul Beast race.

He stood up, walked up to Ling Feng, and patted him on the shoulder.

"Be careful."

Ling Feng nodded.

He did not go to see Qian Renxue, Jin Chen, or his parents.

He left Wuhun City before dawn.

In the early morning of the Starry Sky Forest, the fog was thick, and the sunlight was blocked by the tree canopy. Only a few golden rays of light pierced through the branches and leaves and fell on the ground covered with fallen leaves.

Ling Feng walked along the familiar road, the Panlong Staff slung diagonally behind him, and the Guixin Sword swaying gently at his waist.

After walking for a day and a night, he arrived at the Lake of Life.

Di Tian stood by the lake, his golden vertical pupils looking at him, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.

"Level 80?"

Ling Feng nodded.

"This junior has come to pay homage to Senior Silver Dragon King."

Di Tian remained silent for a moment, then turned and walked towards the center of the lake.

He stepped across the lake, and with each step, a ripple appeared beneath his feet.

He stopped when he reached the center of the lake.