Protagonist Halo

Sure enough, ten minutes later, the young man's speed suddenly dropped, and the distance between the two quickly narrowed.

At that moment, the young man abruptly slowed down even more and dove down into the forest below.

"So cunning," Huo Yuhao muttered to himself. Though the two of them had been flying fairly low, they were still about twenty meters off the ground.

Huo Yuhao wasn't yet very familiar with using soul bones to fly. High-speed straight-line flight was manageable, but maneuvering through a complex environment like a forest posed great limitations. That young man clearly knew this too.

CRACK!

With a burst of dust, a large tree nearly a meter in diameter collapsed. Moments later, a figure sprang up from the ground in a swift kip-up.

It wasn't the young man being chased, but Huo Yuhao himself. And frankly, he was pissed. The young man was like a fish in water once he entered the forest—slippery and elusive.

Just now, Huo Yuhao had been chasing too fast and crashed straight into a tree, face-first into the dirt.

When he summoned his soul bone, Huo Yuhao had been wearing a pitch-black cloak. It was now tattered and covered in mud.

"I don't believe it. What, is he the damn protagonist or something?" This situation felt like one of those cultivation novels where the protagonist was hunted by villains, always surviving close shaves by sheer luck.

Huo Yuhao definitely felt like the villain right now.

That young man had to die today. Huo Yuhao had spoken—even Jesus couldn't save him.

Outside the forest, on a flat clearing, a dozen tents were set up. Nearby, several campfires blazed, and a few men in black combat gear stood guard around the perimeter.

"Alert!" One of them suddenly shouted, having noticed something. The others immediately moved in toward him.

A figure burst from the woods ahead. Just as he tried to escape, a few of the guards surrounded him completely.

The figure was, of course, the young man Huo Yuhao had been chasing. Seeing he was blocked, the young man grew anxious and enraged, but as soon as he sensed the others' cultivation level, he instantly deflated.

"Holy hell, all of them are at six rings? When did Soul Emperors become cabbages on sale?"

Mumbling internally, the young man cupped his fists respectfully and said, "Seniors, I'm merely passing by. I meant no offense—could you perhaps let me through?"

The group exchanged glances. The man before them was pale-faced, with his left arm nearly severed—barely held on by a flap of skin—and covered in blood and grime. He looked pitiful.

Clearly, he was being hunted and not here for trouble. The guards decided not to bother getting involved and were about to let him go.

Before they could speak, Huo Yuhao caught up from behind. Seeing so many people all of a sudden, he froze for a second. Then he realized each one was a formidable cultivator. His expression grew increasingly grim.

The earlier shout had alerted others in the camp—now seven or eight more people had gathered.

Seeing this, Huo Yuhao gave up. Without hesitation, he turned to leave. He didn't know if these people were friends or foes, and he wasn't about to take that gamble.

It really did feel like he was playing the villain in a novel. But dammit, wasn't he supposed to be the child of destiny?

"Little fellow, since you're here, why not come in for a sit and a cup of tea?" Just as Huo Yuhao turned to leave, a light male voice sounded. Deep and magnetic, it carried a hint of age and an eerie tone.

The voice wasn't loud, but it reached the ears of everyone present with perfect clarity. Huo Yuhao's face changed. In his spiritual sea, Snow Empress and Ice Empress both sent him the same message—the speaker was very powerful. A Titled Douluo—and not an ordinary one.

Huo Yuhao slowly turned around, his expression stiff. He cupped his fists toward the camp. "Since senior has invited me, it is my honor. However..."

"No matter. He'll be staying too. You may settle your scores here. How about that?" The voice came again, this time slightly firmer, with a subtle, undeniable authority.

Huo Yuhao felt bitter. He was just a measly three-ring Soul Elder—how the hell did he end up running into such an old monster?

"This way, sir." A beautiful, middle-aged woman in a blue robe stepped out from the crowd and gestured politely to Huo Yuhao.

"Thank you for the trouble." Huo Yuhao nodded blankly and followed her inside, anxiety bubbling in his chest.

Soon, the woman led Huo Yuhao to a campfire. From afar, he could already see a tall figure seated beside it—dressed in luxurious black robes, with long dark green hair flowing down his back... and a bald crown.

They stopped three meters from the elder. The woman gave a slight bow. "Sect Master, I've brought him."

"Greetings, Senior." Huo Yuhao respectfully saluted. Surprisingly, at this distance, he no longer felt the overwhelming pressure he had sensed earlier. The man before him now felt like a regular person. But if someone could command this level of respect from a Titled Douluo, how could he possibly be ordinary?

That woman who led him—Red Moon—was a genuine Titled Douluo, though Huo Yuhao hadn't realized it earlier. It was Snow Empress who had told him.

"No need for formality. Come, little fellow, sit. Red Moon, you too. Try some of this old man's cooking." The shadowy figure waved his hand, motioning for them to sit.

"Yes, Sect Master."

As they walked over, someone brought two stools for them.

After sitting down, Huo Yuhao finally got a good look at the so-called Sect Master. Judging from his voice, the man was clearly elderly. But when Huo Yuhao raised his head, what he saw was a baby-smooth face, slightly pink, not a single wrinkle in sight. He looked incredibly healthy.

Huo Yuhao wasn't surprised. Maintaining a youthful appearance was child's play for someone at the Titled Douluo level.

But what really stood out were the man's eyes. If it was your first time seeing him, you'd probably get spooked. His eyes were completely dark green—no whites, no pupils. It made your scalp tingle just looking at them.

Huo Yuhao had no idea why this old guy called him over. Since the man didn't say anything, Huo Yuhao didn't dare ask. He just sat quietly.

The three of them sat around the fire. Roasting above it was a whole lamb, already golden brown. A light aroma of roasted meat wafted through the air. The Sect Master flipped the lamb with practiced care, sprinkling various seasonings as he went. The scent only grew stronger.

"What the hell is this old guy doing? Didn't he say something about tea? Why are we grilling lamb now?" Huo Yuhao grumbled inwardly.

"Little fellow, stoke the fire a bit."

Huo Yuhao didn't know what weird mood the old man was in, but he had no choice but to comply.

But the old guy didn't stop there. One moment he told Huo Yuhao to help flip the lamb, the next he said the fire was too strong, then he complained about too much oil. It drove Huo Yuhao up the wall—but with the man's Titled Douluo strength, all he could do was suck it up and obey.

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