White Tiger Duke's mansion.
Dai Hao stared in shock as a rush dispatch arrived. His face darkened.
"What do you mean Shrek's starters are all heavily injured?"
"What do you mean Yueheng's life is in danger?"
"What do you mean this is all my damn fault?!!"
Yes, he hosted guests and served some wine—but with their Soul King and Soul Emperor cultivation, a bit of soul power would purge the alcohol! A spirit master ruined by drink? That's outrageous across the entire realm! And where was Xuan Zi?! Wasn't he with them?
"Would I harm my own son?!" Dai Hao panted, slamming the table into splinters as he stood.
"Shrek is going too far!"
"Commander, His Majesty sent an envoy to inquire…" Elder Du said awkwardly from the door.
"Huff… Have him wait in the side tent!"
Dai Hao straightened his clothes, told Du Leisi to tidy the mess, then strode out. Privately cursing Shrek was one thing—but outside, he had to play the part.
After all, they'd just spared his boy.
…
Star Luo Empire.
Imperial Capital.
One of the most prosperous cities on the continent. Annual turnover supposedly reaches 70–80 million gold soul coins. Not as much as Shrek City, but the goods were dazzling—varied shops of every kind, plus local-flavored soul beast leatherwork and deep historical heritage.
But the Shrek party had no time to shop.
They went straight to the Star Luo Grand Hotel—the registration site for all academies.
"You're… Shrek Academy?!"
A shapely, beautiful attendant glanced at the lead, Wang Yan, then craned her neck as if checking for more people in back.
"That's right," Wang Yan smiled.
It wasn't a forced smile. After a silent night, he'd made peace with it. Things couldn't get worse. Before Ma Xiaotao recovered, Su Wen would hold the line… They could still aim for the peak bracket.
So why not confuse the competition and let them guess?
"Oh, sorry."
The attendant started recording. A bone-age tester sat nearby; staff guided them through it.
"…"
Seeing the odd age spread on the roster, she hesitated but offered kindly, "Registration ends in half a day. If… you don't register by then…"
"Thanks. These are all of Shrek's people," Su Wen smiled.
He turned to leave.
The team followed quickly.
…
In a second-floor lounge alcove—
A refined youth eyed the boy below with interest. "He's got some presence. Elder Ma, has the imperial intel replied? What trick is Shrek playing? They can't possibly think they'll beat us with just those greenhorns, right?"
"…"
The white-bearded Elder Ma frowned and shook his head.
"Half a day left. We'll know then."
"Shrek is arrogant, but not so foolish. I suspect… something happened."
"Brother, doesn't that mean the championship is nailed down for us?" Beside the refined youth, a girl in a sun hat with silver hair down her back widened her eyes, delighted.
"Of course. I'm the Sun–Moon Empire's once-in-a-millennium genius. Annoying that my first tournament as a reserve will already net a championship—how dull," he picked at his fingers, bored.
Elder Ma and the team captain Ma Rulong twitched.
What a show-off.
The Sun–Moon Daily had piled titles on Xiao Hongchen—"Tiger of the Empire," "Fifteen-year-old genius soul engineer," "Youngest 5th-rank engineer," etc.—practically putting him on a pedestal. To be fair, about half of that was riding the Mingde Hall Master's coattails. The rest—he did have real skill.
Ma Rulong narrowed his eyes, watching Shrek's lead—Su Wen's back.
This seemed the closest the Sun–Moon Empire had ever been to first place. The glory was within reach…
…
"Your Highness, Shrek Academy…" A girl in Star Luo Royal Academy uniform leaned in, excitement plain.
Shrek had held first for ten thousand years.
Each year, they were so strong that others couldn't even muster the will to compete. Everyone aimed for top three. But this year—first place seemed open…
"Quiet." Xu Jiujiu, in Royal Academy attire, back straight, gazed calmly at Su Wen's back and spoke.
Imperial pressure from the royal family pressed the team to bow.
The court had already received word from Duke Dai Hao.
Shrek would get no further reinforcements. The starters, except one, were all badly wounded in the Mingdou Range. Even Dai Yueheng was most grievously hurt—forget recovering to compete. But Dai Hao mentioned one person… Su Wen.
The entire "elite" Shrek starters all drank and nearly perished in the Mingdou Range. Only he didn't drink—a drop. Sober from start to finish. It was said that without him, they wouldn't just be heavily injured—they would have died.
Were he not from Shrek, she would have done all she could to recruit him—baiting with herself if needed.
But he was the Sea God Pavilion's next-generation heir.
A title out of legend—borne by someone younger than her. The previous heir was Shrek's inner court senior sister—hundred-thousand-year 8th ring, a near-certain future peak.
To surpass Zhang Lexuan at this age showed how seriously the Pavilion took him…
As expected of Shrek.
A place where monsters abound.
Even with such casualties, someone could hold up the collapsing edifice. There's always someone to shoulder the burden—that's true heritage.
However…
Only one who can suppress a circle of flood dragons is a true dragon.
Right now, Shrek looked like a whelp—status intact, but encircled by flood dragons, all eyeing first place.
She glanced where Shrek had vanished—heat rising in her eyes.
Admiration aside—
The Royal Academy wouldn't miss such a chance.
She was one of those flood dragons.
To share the stage with one who hasn't yet fully risen—no regrets. Next time, he might crush them…
…
After settling upstairs—
Wang Yan finally went quiet.
Just earlier, when he had looked up, worried about Su Wen—
He saw the boy stride calmly, face unchanged. Amid mocking, hostile, or greedy gazes from the second-floor lounge, his steps were steady—no ripple.
It was as if the scene took on form:
Encircled by flood dragons vying for his seat—the young dragon stayed serene.
Victory uncertain; the end unwritten.
Only now did Wang Yan feel it. In peaceful times, with the continent stable, he'd rarely felt this. Only in real crisis do born leaders reveal themselves—drawing others in.
…
Elsewhere.
"Plenty of onlookers," Mu Qui'er pouted.
"They all want to step on our heads for first, hmph~"
"Human nature," Su Wen smiled.
This isn't just about first place.
It's about stepping on Shrek—the continent's top academy—as a stepping stone, to forge your own fame. Who wouldn't want that?
"Come on, let's browse…"
Bei Bei, Ning Tian, and others stayed to recover. Their wounds were light but needed adjustment for tomorrow. Wang Yan remained to oversee them.
Gu Yuena and Mu Qui'er slept soundly at the hotel—both a bit homebody.
So only Su Wen and Wang Dong went out.
"It's huge!" Wang Dong hugged Su Wen's arm, blue eyes wide.
Compared to Shrek's trade-oriented vibe—more rustic and practical—Star Luo valued "grandeur." Many chambers of commerce were directly or indirectly royal, so the architecture carried a lavish, majestic air.
Some had dragon heads carved at entrances to flaunt status.
Su Wen didn't waste time.
They headed straight to a soul tool emporium.
The hall was spacious with few people. This place did bespoke high-end tools—rank 4–5 and above—each sale over ten thousand gold soul coins—filtering the crowd.
"Young master, are you procuring soul tools from Starshine Commerce?"
A clerk approached with a smile.
"Yes," Su Wen nodded.
"What rank or type? We have the Sun–Moon Empire's latest defensive soul tool—the Titan Bulwark (ranks 5–8 available), and the Solar Incinerator (exclusive rank-7). We have top-selling Invincibility Shields, and various melee soul tools. All you need," the clerk beamed.
Though they were young—the Star Luo Empire never lacked second-generation elites.
Nobles, the military, even royals.
Perhaps someone would arrive shortly to handle payment.
Under the clerk's guidance, Su Wen tried several tools—slightly disappointed. Apart from milk bottles (energy storage), flying tools, and invincibility shields, the rest felt clunky. Ranged/melee tools burned soul power—good for pure supports like food-type masters (e.g., He Caitou) or weak martial souls. For him—too restrictive.
Star Luo was the only nation sharing a border with the Sun–Moon Empire.
Though enemies on the surface, there were clandestine trades.
Not officially sanctioned—but corruption in the military. The Sun–Moon looked vigorous, with soul tools flourishing—producing many warlords—but far from clean.
In peacetime, no war profits—some border troops smuggled soul tools. The Mingdou Range made a perfect cover—hard to prove.
The buyers—mostly Star Luo.
You could tell from the White Tiger Duke's retainers and their gear. The world's a rickety troupe.
Fight by day—swear brotherhood by night.
Su Wen had come to see first-hand the front-line state-of-the-art.
His conclusion: clunky.
For metal-attribute and spiritual martial souls, soul tools are a huge boost—upending combat paradigms. For traditional top talents—they're a shackle.
Su Wen shook his head.
He bought a few high-grade milk bottles, an 8th-rank flying tool, and several invincibility shields, then left.
As for the Titan Bulwark—couldn't be charged by milk bottles, only by the user's soul power. Even at rank 5, the soul power cost wasn't worth the effect.
In this awkward transition era for soul tools, traditional soul masters still held an edge.
For example, Little Gold's defense could crush a rank-7 Titan Bulwark.
Still—there were gains.
Wang Dong was thrilled at the range—lugging a Warfire artillery soul tool at the range, shooting wildly. She finally stopped rejecting soul tools.
Not that she loved them now.
But can versus want are two different things.
The cage cracked—a sliver of light for the butterfly to see hope.