As a Soul Wielder, Yurix could sense it clearly. Ethan was getting anxious.

Ethan’s face gave nothing away, his expression as cold and steady as ever, but soul fluctuations were far harder to conceal than outward emotion. To someone like Yurix, they were as obvious as ripples on still water. That was the greatest advantage of a Soul Wielder. You did not need to wait for your opponent to act. You could feel intent before it manifested, predict movement before it happened, and strike a fraction of a moment earlier than anyone else.

And yet, even with that advantage, Yurix had walked straight into Ethan’s trap.

The realization came too late, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had only just regained his power and had let that confidence swell unchecked. He had known, from the beginning, that Ethan must have been hiding something, but he had dismissed the thought, convinced that nothing a boy like this could prepare would truly threaten him. So he had charged forward without hesitation.

Now he was paying for it.

This boy’s mindscape was abnormal in ways Yurix had never encountered before. That strange tree alone was already beyond reason, capable of weaving a prison infused with array principles, something that should not have been possible in such a state. And those four children... they were even more unsettling. They were clearly spirit artifacts, yet they did not behave like any Yurix had ever seen. Artifacts were supposed to obey, to act according to their master’s will without independent thought. These, however, moved with awareness, fought with coordination, and reacted like seasoned warriors working in perfect harmony.

Then there was the avatar.

A physical-bodied projection formed through the Trifurcate Spirit technique. Yurix had only read about it in ancient ancestral records, passages that praised it as a divine method beyond compare. The technique demanded an immensely powerful soul as its foundation. Without that, even forming an avatar was impossible, let alone one capable of combat. Splitting the soul itself was a dangerous act, one that only the truly gifted could survive.

Yurix found himself caught between excitement and frustration.

Excitement, because the body he had chosen belonged to a genuine prodigy. He could not help but wonder what standing someone like Ethan held in a place like Earth. Anyone capable of entering the Divine Sea Trial could not be ordinary, especially considering how many had failed over the past thousands of years. Ethan was the first from Earth to even make it this far.

Frustration, because that same prodigy now stood in his way.

Yurix’s violet eyes remained fixed on Ethan, his expression calm and unreadable as he sidestepped the avatar’s relentless attacks with minimal effort, barely sparing them a glance.

"Young man," he said, his voice smooth and laced with an almost hypnotic pull, "if you release this prison and allow me to leave, I will no longer oppose you. Not only that, I will grant you wealth beyond anything you can imagine."

Ethan only smiled, a cold, thin curve of his lips. He did not respond.

Seeing that his words had no effect, Yurix continued without pause. "This is your first time in the Divine Sea Trial, isn’t it? I, on the other hand, have entered it countless times. I have reached the fifth layer. You have no idea how many treasures lie there. Release me, and I will guide you. I will help you reach that level, claim those fortunes, and elevate your strength to heights you cannot even conceive of now. When that time comes, we will leave this place together, and the world itself will bow at our feet."

Ethan’s gaze flickered, just slightly. Fifth layer. Out of seven.

That meant Yurix had already surpassed most participants. But Ethan had also heard from Hayes that the last two layers were where the true difficulty lay, where even the strongest faltered.

Still, Ethan only let out a short breath and shook his head. "You talk big. The world bowing to you? Step outside right now and someone would beat you into the ground like a stray dog."

Yurix blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before letting out a cold snort. "I command the power of countless spirits. Who in this world could possibly stand against me? If I had not been born in such a wretched place, I would have long since..."

He trailed into a self-important rant, his tone swelling with arrogance.

Ethan raised a hand and rubbed his ear, visibly annoyed. The man sounded like a frog at the bottom of a well, utterly convinced of his own greatness despite having seen almost nothing of the wider world.

"Enough," Ethan cut in sharply. "If you want to conquer anything, start by getting past me. I’m the weakest of the weak out there. I grew up being called a waste. You can’t even beat me, and you’re talking about ruling the world?"

The words were deliberate, and they landed exactly where Ethan intended.

Yurix paused. That single moment of hesitation was all the avatar needed. Its hand snapped out and struck, the sound was sharp and clean.

In the same instant, a tower materialized behind the avatar, its first two levels lighting up with a radiant glow. A majestic aura surged outward as its power multiplied, the air itself trembling under the sudden increase.

A dull thump echoed.

"AAAGH!"

Yurix’s scream tore through the space as half of his head was blown apart.

He staggered back, his form destabilizing. As a soul entity, physical attacks should not have affected him in such a direct way, yet the avatar’s strike had connected as though it were striking flesh. If Yurix had possessed a real body, that blow would have ended him instantly. As it was, he had only lost half his head, but even that was devastating. Soul energy spilled from him in a torrent.

Yaya’s prison reacted immediately, absorbing the leaking energy with greedy urgency. Still, the sheer volume was too great to capture completely. Yurix managed to pull back what remained, reforming his head in an instant, though his aura had noticeably weakened.

"You... wretched little things..."

His voice trembled with fury. In that single exchange, he had lost nearly a fifth of his accumulated spirit energy, something that had taken him centuries to build.

"You’re forcing me."

His eyes burned as he raised a finger to his brow, his expression twisting in visible pain as though he were tearing something out of himself.

Ethan narrowed his eyes but still could not resist. "What’s wrong? Having trouble taking a dump, old man?"

The insult was crude, but intentional. The next moment, Yurix’s body split.

Blood-red figures burst out from within him, each one a spirit he had previously absorbed. They poured into the space like a flood, scattering in all directions. There were too many for the avatar and the four children to intercept.

The spirits rushed toward the prison walls, each wielding a weapon, and began hacking at the vines with relentless force.

"Brother!" Yaya cried out.

The sound struck Ethan like a blade. Those vines were her body.

"Yaya..." he started, but the words caught in his throat.

Green sap seeped from the places where the spirits struck, dripping steadily as the assault continued. Yaya did not cry out again, but the trembling of the Tree of Life’s crown told him everything he needed to know.

"Yaya, pull back the branches!" Ethan shouted.

The crown swayed gently, almost like a refusal.

"Master... Yaya is..." Aqua’s voice quivered, her eyes filling with tears.

"Aqua, stop talking," Beastie snapped, though his own movements had grown more frantic.

Inside the spherical prison, the four children darted back and forth, striking down the red spirits as quickly as they appeared. But it made little difference. The spirits reformed again and again, endless and unrelenting.

The avatar continued to pursue Yurix, but the element of surprise was gone. Yurix had adapted, avoiding every strike with careful precision. Neither could harm the other now, locked in a stalemate born from that earlier exchange.

Ethan’s gaze remained fixed on Yaya’s trembling form, and something dark began to rise within him.

His options were limited. His Soul Energy had barely recovered, and his physical body, along with the Quintessence Bone, was out of reach in this state. He had no means to draw upon that power here.

And so he could only watch. Watch as Yaya endured pain he could not alleviate.

The anger built, slow at first, then sharper, heavier, until it pressed against his chest like a weight.

Then something stirred.

A faint hum echoed within him as a pink-gold light flickered at his chest. Ethan blinked in surprise.

The Buddha-Demon Resonance Magnetic Light.

It had lain dormant ever since it entered his body, showing no sign of activity until now. For a brief moment, Ethan felt a connection to it, as though it were something he could reach out and grasp.

Then it faded.

Yurix had not moved.

Ethan frowned, confusion flashing through his mind. A moment ago, it had felt within reach, and now it was gone again.

He forced himself to think.

Back in the forest, when he had first used it, he had not understood what he was doing. He had simply lashed out in fury, driven by a desire to destroy everything in front of him.

And just now, when it reacted again, he had been angry and desperate.

"Anger..." he muttered under his breath.

The memory of the Dragon of Consumption surfaced. Vasuki, a being who had walked the path of Buddhism while embodying the nature of a demon, ultimately becoming a Wrathful Buddha. If this power came from him, then perhaps it required that same state of wrath to function.

Ethan exhaled slowly. That was easier said than done.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment and reached into his past, dragging up memories he would have preferred to leave buried. His first life. The humiliation. The ridicule. The endless voices calling him useless.

The emotions came back quickly. Too quickly.

Anger took root, then spread, growing into something fierce and uncontrollable. When he opened his eyes again, a faint pink glow had returned to his chest.

This time, he held onto it.

"You deserve to die," he said quietly, forcing the thought to take shape, to become real. His breathing grew heavier, his vision sharpening as the anger settled into something focused and deliberate.

Then he moved.

In an instant, he reappeared within the prison, his Soul Energy reaching out toward the light.

He pulled and it responded.

A single thread of that power separated, merging with his own energy as though it had always belonged there.

"Soul Technique... Soul Severance Slash."

The words left his lips for the first time.

The cost was immediate. His already dim soul form flickered, growing fainter as a massive blade formed above him, stretching nearly fifteen meters in length. It resembled the one Yurix had used before, but this one carried a faint pink-gold sheen, a trace of the Buddha-Demon Resonance Magnetic Light woven into its core.

Yurix saw it and sneered, his confidence returning as he sensed Ethan’s weakened state.

"Child," he said, almost lazily, "stop struggling."

With one hand, he evaded the avatar’s attacks. With the other, he formed his own blade. The surrounding red spirits turned and surged into it, their forms dissolving as they were absorbed. The blade shifted from pale white to a deep, ominous crimson.

"You hurt Yaya," Ethan said, his voice low and grinding. "You don’t get to walk away from that."

He raised his hand and the heavenly blade descended.

Yurix met it without hesitation, his own weapon swinging upward to collide with it head-on.