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"As long as you don't force me to fight a one-versus-twelve, the five of you won't get a scratch on you."
Su Wen's meaning was clear enough, but because such "modern" quips hadn't yet entered the lexicon of the Douluo Continent, the five members of the Imperial Fighting Team's second squad stood there in a daze, failing to grasp the joke.
They did, however, understand what Ning Rongrong had said.
But still... this was the Continental Advanced Spirit Master Academy Elite Tournament. It was the most prestigious event on the entire continent, held under the watchful eyes of tens of thousands. Even a group of pampered "rich second-generation" heirs didn't dare to simply slack off and "fish in troubled waters," especially when they represented the Empire's reputation in the finals.
If they just lay down and gave up, losing the match in a pathetic display, they had a strong feeling their families would "deal with them" the moment they stepped back home. Yet, cowed by the authority Su Wen and Ning Rongrong had established over the recent days, they didn't dare to voice a single objection.
The second round was finally reaching its climax.
"The final match of the second round: Imperial Fighting Team Two versus Shrek Academy!" the announcer's voice boomed. "Will both teams please take the stage."
On Shrek's side, they fielded their strongest possible lineup: Tang San, Dai Mubai, Zhu Zhuqing, Ma Hongjun, Oscar, the "Shield of Despair" Xu Jiang, and Tailong.
While Zhu Zhuqing, Ma Hongjun, Oscar, and Xu Jiang were technically lower in Spirit Power rank than the original substitutes Jing Ling, Huang Yuan, and Jiang Zhu, their combined utility far exceeded them. Under Grandmaster's rigorous training, the coordination between the core six was seamless. Tailong, the newest addition, had been thoroughly intimidated into submission by Tang San's prowess and had integrated into the team's tactics with surprising speed.
Zhu Zhuqing could perform a Spirit Fusion with Dai Mubai, Oscar's support sausages were no less effective than Jiang Zhu's healing, and his flying mushroom sausages offered a massive tactical advantage. As for Ma Hongjun and Xu Jiang, their raw combat ability in a duel was enough to suppress the likes of Jing Ling or Huang Yuan.
Su Wen showed no surprise at Shrek's roster. He led his "burdens" onto the stage with an air of casual indifference.
"Su Wen! I bet you didn't expect to run into us so soon!" Ma Hongjun laughed loudly, his mouth running a mile a minute as he glared at Su Wen.
However, Su Wen's expression remained as calm as a placid lake, making Ma Hongjun's posturing look like the antics of a jumping clown. Seeing no reaction, Ma Hongjun eventually stopped talking, his face flushing a deep red—it was hard to tell if he was embarrassed or simply fuming that his psychological warfare had failed.
"Both sides, prepare!" the referee shouted, observing that the teams were in position. "Begin the match!"
The air hummed as souls were unleashed.
On the Shrek side, Dai Mubai revealed a configuration of two yellow and two purple rings, while the rest of the team displayed the standard optimal configuration of two yellow and one purple. In the context of the tournament finals, this was considered normal—perhaps even slightly weak, given they only had one Spirit Ancestor (Rank 40+).
This was precisely why the audience had mockingly dubbed this match a "pecking contest between noobs." They weren't ignoring Shrek's previous upsets, but compared to the powerhouses like the main Imperial team or the Spirit Hall team, this matchup seemed like a lower-tier brawl.
However, the laughter in the stands died instantly.
Every single person—from the hundreds of thousands of spectators to Pope Bibi Dong and the various VIPs on the podium—froze in collective shock, their eyes glued to a single figure on the arena floor.
"Wait... am I seeing things?"
Spectators rubbed their eyes vigorously, but when they looked back, the figure was still standing there, bathed in an impossible light. Around Su Wen, five Spirit Rings descended in a rhythmic dance, their overlapping glow of yellow, purple, and black creating a dazzling, suffocating pressure.
One Yellow. Two Purple. Two Black.
"A thousand-year ring as the second?!" "Ten-thousand-year rings starting from the fourth?!" "A Spirit King?!"
Any one of these revelations would have been explosive on its own. Now, they were all concentrated on a single youth. And as those who had studied Su Wen's file knew all too well—he was only sixteen years old!
Yu Xiaogang stared at that preposterous ring configuration, and suddenly, the intelligence report in his hand felt like a stack of worthless scrap paper. Every tactic he had spent nights refining was based on that data. He had accounted for every possible variation of Su Wen's fourth spirit ability and even potential self-created skills.
But he had never once considered that the data itself was a lie.
He snapped his head toward the Pope's seat, his eyes flashing with a hint of accusation. But the moment he saw the genuine shock mirrored in Bibi Dong's eyes, his suspicion vanished.
Su Wen... his heart is so deep. He actually dared to falsify his registration at Spirit Hall! But even then, how did he manage to fake the color of his rings during the inspection?
This was what Yu Xiaogang couldn't wrap his head around. Usually, Spirit Hall officials would personally witness the rings to verify a Spirit Master's rank during registration.
It must have been a lapse in Spirit Hall's bureaucracy, he rationalized. Most Spirit Masters only registered for the monthly stipends, which ceased once one reached the Spirit Ancestor rank. Consequently, external Spirit Masters rarely bothered to update their records once they surpassed Rank 40. Perhaps the staff had simply become negligent with higher-level registrations over time.
Yu Xiaogang's expression darkened. Looking at the two teams on the stage, the outcome was already written in stone. A Spirit King against Spirit Ancestors and Grandmasters was nothing short of a slaughter. Even the Hell White Tiger fusion might only manage to trade a few blows before the massive gap in Spirit Power forced them apart.
The match had officially begun, yet there were no explosive collisions or bursts of movement. There was only the heavy, natural ripple of Spirit Power emanating from Su Wen's rings.
"Do you know what this scene means, happening here at the tournament finals?" one spectator whispered. "What does it mean?" "It means the match has started, yet neither side dares to move a muscle." "Well said. Don't say it again."
As the audience slowly regained their senses, the stadium erupted into a feverish roar of discussion.
"This is going into the history books!"
Su Wen's achievement was destined to be recorded as a legend.
"Why have you all stopped talking? Did you suddenly lose interest in speaking?" Ning Rongrong teased, sticking her tongue out. She was hiding comfortably behind Su Wen's back, not even bothering to release her own Spirit Rings.
The other five teammates, who had initially summoned their Martial Souls, looked at Ning Rongrong and then at Su Wen's back. One by one, they sheepishly withdrew their rings and souls. Their hearts were pounding with a mix of awe and relief.
Our captain... is actually a Spirit King! Heavens! This is the ultimate carry!
Su Wen stepped forward slowly, his voice calm but carrying to every corner of the arena. "Since I have other objectives for these finals, my six teammates behind me will not be taking part in this fight. I intend to demonstrate my strength to the fullest."
He pointed a finger at the seven people opposite him, his voice ringing with absolute confidence.
"All seven of you—come at me together."
Tang San's face turned an ashen shade of grim. Beside him, Dai Mubai and Xu Jiang, who were positioned at the front, felt the weight of it most. They were directly facing the Spirit Power pressure of a Spirit King—one who possessed two ten-thousand-year rings.
Technically, the only thing separating Su Wen from a Spirit Emperor (Rank 60+) was a single hundred-year ring. In terms of pure psychological pressure, he was already on that level.
Su Wen's gaze shifted to Ma Hongjun, and he let out a short, mocking chuckle. "You said you were young? Can you reach my level within the next two years?"
"Come. I'm giving you the chance to strike first. Let me show you what a real 'gap' looks like."
(End of Chapter)