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"Swish—"
Cheng Gang moved with decisive force—a massive, sky-blocking hand suddenly materialized above Yu Mengdi and clenched shut!
A brilliant azure light flared across the arena.
Seconds passed.
The swordlight gradually faded.
All eyes turned to the dueling platform—and countless students gasped.
The ground was covered.
Every inch of the stone surface was etched with deep, crisscrossing cuts—hundreds, thousands of sword scars, as if the earth itself had been carved by a thousand blades.
Was this… really the work of a Soul Sect?
"You're eliminated."
A cold, emotionless voice echoed beside Yu Mengdi's ear.
Before she could react, Cheng Gang seized her by the arm and swept her off the platform in one motion.
Chen Junting landed lightly, sword still in hand, his posture as composed as ever—but the faint, rapid rise and fall of his chest betrayed the toll the battle had taken. Especially the brief, fleeting awakening of Ultimate Metal—it had drained his essence, his spirit, his very vitality.
Had he relied on his array-based soul guidance device, he wouldn't have broken a sweat.
At his side, Gongyang Mo had already stepped forward, raising a Level Four soul guidance device—the "Nursing Bottle"—to his lips, replenishing his depleted soul energy.
After prolonged use of soul guidance devices and exhausting all his soul skills in rapid succession, his reserves were nearly dry. He needed to recover—fast.
"Little Junting… need some?" Gongyang Mo offered with a grin.
Chen Junting gritted his teeth against the nauseating pet name and waved him off.
"I'm not drained from soul energy. Skip it. But the remaining Ye Wuqing? That's your problem now."
"Don't worry," Gongyang Mo replied, smirking as he glanced at the exhausted Ye Wuqing.
Two ten-thousand-year soul skills used in quick succession? You're practically a puddle.
He lifted the "Nursing Bottle" slightly, dangling it in the air.
Ye Wuqing, face still rigid, felt a bitter chuckle rise in his throat.
This… was the price of dismissing soul guidance devices.
When the match first began, Ye Wuqing had been certain: his team had a seventy percent chance of winning this first round.
Now? They'd been undone by soul guidance devices.
"Buddy, let me give you a lift."
The moment the words left Gongyang Mo's mouth, a cluster of metallic cannon barrels emerged from his armor.
The next second—
A torrent of fire erupted like a tsunami, swallowing Ye Wuqing whole before he could even raise his defenses.
Only Cheng Gang's swift intervention saved him from being obliterated.
The referee raised his voice, clear and final:
"Third Round, First Match, 2-2-3 Format—Shrek Academy wins!"
Amid the roaring cheers, Chen Junting and Gongyang Mo descended from the platform.
As Teacher Wang and the others rushed forward to congratulate them, Cheng Gang wasted no time.
"Next pair of contestants—take the field."
"Xu Xuelong, Nan Nan—your turn."
Chen Junting walked to Ning Tian's side and glanced back over his shoulder.
"We'll show you how it's done," Xu Sanshi said, giving a thumbs-up, his battle spirit surging. He might not be as strong as his juniors anymore—but he couldn't let his record fall too far behind.
"Hmm."
Jiang Nannan nodded lightly, casting a brief, disapproving glance at Xu Sanshi's theatrics. "Get on the platform already. Don't keep the referee waiting." With that, she vanished in a blur of purple light.
Xu Sanshi sprinted after her.
—
On the opposite side, Zhengtian Academy had convened in a hurried huddle.
They had no choice.
They would go all-in.
Their final Soul King—Tang Xiaolei—and their strongest Soul Grandmaster, Xue Lang, would take the field. Win this round, and they'd still have a fighting chance in the final three-on-three.
But when they saw who stepped onto the platform…
Their hopes shattered.
It wasn't Shrek's main team.
It was the reserves.
They had been outplayed.
Shrek didn't care about winning the second match.
They were deliberately letting it go—planning to win everything in the final round.
Unbeknownst to Zhengtian, Shrek's plan had always been: win round two, skip round three.
"Xu Sanshi."
"Jiang Nannan."
"Tang Xiaolei."
"Xue Lang."
The introductions complete, both sides stepped back.
"Begin!" Cheng Gang commanded.
Jiang Nannai moved first.
Her martial soul activated. The tip of her foot barely touched the ground—and she launched forward like a released arrow.
A flash of purple light.
She vanished.
Then reappeared—right before Xue Lang.
Her knee shot upward, aimed straight for his chin.
Xue Lang's pupils contracted violently.
He roared.
Silver-gray fur erupted across his body. Muscles and bones swelled at terrifying speed—his legs thickened into tree-trunk pillars, his hands twisted into razor-sharp claws.
But his reaction was just a fraction too slow.
The blow landed.
His wolf-like head absorbed the impact.
But Xue Lang was no pushover.
He snarled, jaws snapping open—fangs gleaming as he lunged to bite down on Jiang Nannan's slender leg.
Then—
Flash!
Her first yellow soul ring ignited.
With nothing to push off, she twisted mid-air—her spine bending like a bow.
A flash of cold steel.
Xue Lang howled.
His full beast transformation activated.
He crossed his arms defensively—
A single drop of crimson blood fell.
In Jiang Nannan's hands: two daggers.
Level Four soul guidance devices.
She knew her weakness—lack of raw offensive power.
These daggers? Perfect.
Close-range, high-precision, devastatingly sharp. Exactly what she needed.
—
Meanwhile, Tang Xiaolei acted.
His eyes—once sharp and clear—flooded with luminous purple, as if liquid light spilled from his sockets.
His left hand rose.
A massive bow materialized in his grip.
Two yellow, three purple soul rings flared around him.
He drew the string.
No hesitation.
No wasted motion.
His first hundred-year soul ring dissolved into an arrow—aimed straight at Xu Sanshi.
He had read Jiang Nannan's move.
A Soul Master with teleportation? You don't chase speed—you chase the slow one.
So he targeted Xu Sanshi.
And yet—this arrow wasn't just an attack.
It was a test.
Jiang Nannan's display had shattered his arrogance.
These weren't decoys.
They were dangerous.
"You think you can laugh at your Grandpa?" Xu Sanshi growled, feeling the arrow's terrifying pressure.
But his mouth didn't stop.
And his hands?
BOOM!
The Xuanming Tortoise Shield slammed into the ground.
A wave of crushing black energy exploded outward—forming a thick, dome-like barrier around him, pushing the air outward like a forcefield.
The impact reverberated—
BOOM!
The yellow arrow pierced through the shockwave—then struck the shield head-on.
A violent, tearing force erupted from the point of impact, radiating outward in a storm of soul energy.
The recoil nearly cracked Xu Sanshi's teeth.
He gritted them.
Muscles bulged.
With a roar, he heaved the shield upward—slapping the arrow aside like a fly.
A slow, mocking smile spread across his face.
"You're… not good enough."
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