Douluo: I’m Totally a Support Type… Probably

Qian Renxue walked forward, her golden eyes locked on Wu Lan.

She didn't summon her martial spirit.

That, in itself, told Wu Lan everything.

So… she wants to win with pure strength?

She was a Attack-type powerhouse, yet she refused to use her spirit abilities against him, a support-type spirit master. She intended to win without "bullying" him with her martial spirit.

Wu Lan exhaled softly, half in admiration, half in disappointment.

She's too confident. If I were truly her enemy, a feint here, a hidden strike there… she'd be lying on the ground before she knew what happened.

It was exactly this kind of overconfidence that had allowed Tang San to fool her before. He made a mental note, after the match, he'd have to remind her of this weakness.

While he was thinking, Qian Renxue's fist shot forward like a golden spear.

Wu Lan moved in kind, testing his own body. He met her strike with his own, but deliberately held back. His plan was simple: let her exhaust her full strength first. Only when she admitted defeat in her heart would she accept his request without resentment.

The two fists collided.

A dull boom rang out.

Wu Lan stood unmoving. Qian Renxue staggered back five full steps, boots scraping across the floor.

Wu Lan's face was calm, but Qian Renxue's eyes widened in shock.

Even though she hadn't used her full power, a Soul King would still suffer under such a punch. Yet here he stood, a mere Soul Ancestor, completely unfazed, while she, a Soul Saint, was forced backward.

Before she could speak, Xiao Wu smirked from the side, her pink eyes glinting.

"Now you know how strong my brother is, vixen."

Wu Lan chuckled at the jab, but Qian Renxue's jaw tightened.

Her next punch came without warning, and this time, she didn't hold back.

Wu Lan narrowed his eyes and increased his strength slightly.

Their fists met again.

This time the impact wasn't just sound, the ground beneath their feet cracked, dust spraying outward as a shockwave rippled through the air, rattling the nearby trees.

For the first time, Qian Renxue realized she wasn't facing an ordinary man. His breathing was even, his expression tranquil, as if matching a Soul Saint's full-force punch was nothing more than a casual warm-up.

Recovering quickly, she darted in with a barrage of punches, her speed blurring her form. But each time her fist came close, Wu Lan's knuckles intercepted it with flawless precision, his timing impossibly sharp.

Her frustration grew. No matter how she angled her strikes, she couldn't land a single blow.

With a final push, Wu Lan sent her skidding back a few meters. His voice was calm, almost instructional:

"Renxue, use your full power. You can't defeat me like this."

Her teeth sank into her lip. She hated to admit it, but he was right. His physical strength, his reflexes… both surpassed hers. If she kept this up, she would lose.

Unbidden, a memory surfaced, lonely days in the imperial capital, trapped in endless schemes, surrounded by masks and lies. She had clawed her way forward alone. She refused to lose now.

Even if it meant exposing her true identity.

Golden light flared. The air trembled. Behind her, six radiant wings unfurled with holy majesty. The Six-Winged Angel had descended.

Her feet left the ground as she hovered in the air, wings beating slowly. One by one, her spirit rings appeared around her, each one more brilliant than the last.

Xiao Wu's expression shifted in an instant, from anger, to shock, to outright disbelief.

"Zhuqing… am I dreaming, or do I see seven rings?"

Zhu Zhuqing's cat-like eyes widened. "I see it too."

Both women's gazes turned toward Wu Lan in worry. They knew the wager, if he lost, he would leave with Qian Renxue. The thought made their hearts twist painfully.

But Wu Lan… remained perfectly calm.

That calmness almost disappointed Qian Renxue. She had expected shock, fear, perhaps even awe. Instead, he simply watched her, as if even this form was within his expectations.

Her fifth spirit ring lit up. In her hand, a Holy Sword materialized, its blade pure light. She descended like a streak of gold, sword aimed straight at Wu Lan's heart.

Wu Lan's expression sharpened. He activated the upgraded form of Xuan Tian Record, Jade Hands, meeting her sword head-on. The clash rang like a struck bell, sending sparks of gold and white scattering through the air.

She retreated a step and swept her sword in an arc, releasing waves of cutting sword aura. Wu Lan weaved between them effortlessly, his footwork light as drifting leaves, never letting the aura so much as brush his robes.

Her surprise deepened. From childhood, she had trained under her grandfather, the strongest swordsman she knew. She trusted in her sword as an extension of herself. And yet… Wu Lan's raw strength alone was enough to overwhelm her, blade or no blade.

"Renxue," he called mid-fight, his tone even. "Use your strongest attack. If you keep this up, you'll lose."

Her grip tightened on the hilt. "Then be careful. If you survive my next attack… you win."

She hesitated for only a moment, worried about her trump card hurting him. But his words stirred something in her. If she was to bet, she would bet everything.

She soared higher, putting distance between them. Her seventh ring blazed, and her body shone like the sun itself. The Seraphim Spirit Avatar descended, its colossal form enveloping her, the Angelic Domain flaring outward in waves of oppressive divinity.

Her sword became something greater, a condensed pillar of holy energy, radiant enough to make the air burn.

Wu Lan did not move. He would face it head-on.

From the sidelines, Xiao Wu and Zhu Zhuqing felt the crushing pressure, their hearts pounding painfully. They could barely breathe.

"Brother…"

"Wu Lan…"

Qian Renxue's wings beat once, and she struck. The sword tore through the air, trailing a searing path of gold.

Wu Lan's eyes narrowed. This time, he unleashed all his strength.

Fist met sword.

The world exploded.

A deafening crack of air and energy roared outward, shaking the earth. A sound like shattering glass rang above the chaos.

When the dust began to settle, two figures emerged. One stood tall, unmoving. The other knelt on one knee.