"I admit defeat."
No miracle appeared as Elder Xuan had hoped. Huo Yuhao simply walked out of the arena and raised his voice toward the old man hovering above, watching the battle lazily.
Huo Yuhao had never expected Elder Xuan to swoop in and save him at a critical moment.
After all, that old fox never moved unless absolutely necessary. Every time he intervened, it was at the very last possible second — often after someone was already seriously injured. And even then, he never went all out.
Although Ma Xiaotao's spirit power had been nearly depleted after her fiery rampage, with her strength, she could still easily obliterate a Spirit Grandmaster like him in an instant.
Even if Yuhao could pull some miracle from his sleeve and somehow defeat her, what would be the point?
He had already completed the task assigned to him by Dai Yueheng, his so-called "captain." That was enough. There were no extra rewards for overperforming. Survival came first.
And judging from Ma Xiaotao's unstable mental state, if he really pushed her further, she might lose control entirely. Better to step away.
Seeing this, Elder Xuan could only sigh, shaking his head before announcing, "The winner of this friendly match — Ma Xiaotao's team."
With that, he glanced over the wounded students below. Their injuries were severe enough that he had no choice but to cancel the second round of the planned free-for-all.
The losing team obediently accepted their punishment, taking turns to admit aloud, "I am a pig." It was just a silly forfeit — nothing that could hurt their pride too deeply.
Most of the students had already applied healing ointments for temporary relief. But Dai Yueheng and Chen Zifeng, who had taken Ma Xiaotao's attacks head-on, would clearly need professional Healing-type Soul Masters to recover.
Xi Xi's blows had at least been measured, and since her side had been guaranteed to win, Elder Xuan had intervened quickly to pull her opponents out before things escalated. They had barely sustained scratches. Gongyang Mo was the only one still feeling tightness in his chest.
Those who fought Ma Xiaotao, however, were a different story. The lingering flames from her Phoenix Meteor Shower had scorched Yao Haoxuan, Xi Xi, Xu Sanshi, and Xiao Xiao badly.
Though such burns weren't fatal for Soul Masters with strong bodies, they'd need days of rest to recover.
The worst off, of course, were Dai Yueheng and Chen Zifeng. Elder Xuan could have saved them earlier, but the two had insisted on fighting to the bitter end — unwilling to retreat and risk Ma Xiaotao rampaging through their team.
He'd wanted to test the limits of both sides — their synergy, their composure — before finally pulling them out at the very last moment.
Even with professional healing, it would take several days for the two to fully recover.
"All right, those of you not too badly hurt, you can head back first," Elder Xuan said, waving his hand. A faint brown light enveloped the more seriously injured Dai Yueheng and Chen Zifeng.
"Inner Court disciples, return with me. Xiaotao — go find Dean Yan Shaozhe."
With that, Elder Xuan rose into the air, carrying the injured with him. His voice echoed as he departed:
"Pack your things. The morning after tomorrow, gather at the academy gates. We'll be departing for Star Luo City to participate in the Continental Advanced Soul Master Academy Tournament."
After dismissal, the severely injured Xu Sanshi and Xiao Xiao sought out healing teachers.
Beibei, Jiang Nannan, Wang Dong, and Ning Tian — who were less injured — simply returned to their dorms to rest.
When Wang Dong entered the room, he found Huo Yuhao tinkering with a soul tool on his desk. Just looking at it made his skin crawl.
"Ugh… where did you even get that thing?" Wang Dong rubbed his arms, feeling an instinctive disgust welling up from deep within.
Huo Yuhao didn't look up. "Treasure Appreciation Fair."
The soul tool, delivered from Jubao Pavilion, had been sitting untouched in storage — until now. With Elder Xuan's next "show" coming soon, Yuhao wanted to make sure everything worked perfectly.
Through the Eye of Truth and his spiritual detection, he also peeked into Wang Dong's spiritual sea, tracing the rune Tang San had left there — the one responsible for Wang Dong's deep-seated aversion toward soul tools.
If he could replicate that effect and combine it with his Mental Invasion, it would be devastating against enemy engineers. A true dimensional advantage.
The device in question — a Glazed Barrier Class 4 soul tool — had two modes of operation.
The first was active deployment: channeling soul power to generate a three-meter-wide protective dome capable of sheltering several people. Its defense was top-tier among fourth-rank soul tools, though the energy drain was immense.
For a Spirit Grandmaster like Yuhao, even with his enhanced regeneration, he couldn't sustain it for long.
The second mode was passive activation: tuning the tool's soul frequency to auto-trigger upon detecting nearby high-intensity attacks. This mode only protected the wielder, but consumed far less energy — allowing Yuhao to maintain it much longer.
Once testing was complete, Yuhao stored the Glazed Barrier away. Wang Dong exhaled with visible relief.
"Get some rest. Be careful once we leave the academy," Yuhao said casually, flipping onto his bed and pulling up the blanket.
"Be careful? Isn't Elder Xuan coming with us?" Wang Dong asked, puzzled.
"After what you saw today," Yuhao replied flatly, "you still think he's reliable? If he were, Dai Yueheng and Chen Zifeng wouldn't be half-dead right now. And that story he told before — the one about the negligent teacher — guess who that was about?"
Wang Dong: "…"
That night, Yuhao entered his spiritual sea again. This time, he didn't immediately dive into soul circuit simulations or rune constructs. Instead, he approached Electrolux's gray sphere of light.
"Elder Yi, how's your memory recovery coming along?" he asked.
With the Death God Envoy incident looming, Yuhao wanted to know if the old spirit could offer him another trump card — preferably one that didn't risk his own life.
But Electrolux's reply was the same as ever: "No real progress. As my divine sense repairs, fragments resurface here and there. Certain triggers might awaken more, but nothing steady yet."
Yuhao sighed, though he wasn't surprised. He'd long suspected as much.
Still, as he continued to study the flow of soul circuits and energy loops, he couldn't help but feel a trace of anticipation.
The next morning came quickly. The team had recovered enough to travel — even Dai Yueheng and Chen Zifeng, though pale, were fit to walk.
The time had come for Shrek Academy to fulfill its other duty — as the so-called Shrek Monitoring Corps, acting as moral enforcers of the continent under the guise of preparing for the tournament.
At the academy gates, the full group assembled. Their casual uniforms and compact soul storage devices left them unburdened by luggage.
Alongside Elder Xuan, another figure accompanied them — Wang Yan. Though a competent Soul Emperor, he was clearly brought along more to "gain experience" than to lead.
Given Shrek's resources, they could easily have sent a Titled Douluo or even a Super Douluo as escort. But instead, they sent Wang Yan — which, as Yuhao knew from the original timeline, explained why the official team suffered such terrible losses whenever Elder Xuan failed to act.
The group marched out of Shrek City under Elder Xuan's lead.
Once they reached the outskirts, he stopped and turned toward them. The seven Inner Court students immediately straightened — they knew what came next.
This was the "indoctrination."
With solemn words, Elder Xuan began once again to plant the ideals of the Shrek Monitoring Corps into the newcomers' minds — painting their "responsibility" and "honor" in grand, noble colors.
Through subtle threads of spiritual pressure, he stirred their sense of duty and pride.
One by one, the reserve members — swept up by the group's fervor — agreed to join.
The truth, however, was far less glorious.
The Monitoring Corps offered no rewards, no recognition — only endless, unpaid missions under the banner of "protecting the continent."
And yet, their sacrifices kept feeding Shrek Academy's ever-growing prestige. Donations poured in "for the fallen," funneling vast wealth into the academy. Those funds never reached the families of the dead — they fueled cultivation resources for the Inner Court elites instead.
Every fallen "inspector" became another brick in Shrek's towering pyramid — the foundation on which the privileged few ascended to godhood.
Without such exploitation, how else could the academy maintain the immense resources required to sustain its army of Titled and Super Douluo?
Talent alone couldn't forge such strength. It demanded sacrifice — and Shrek had perfected the art of disguising it as honor.
Wang Yan distributed the official gear — black-and-gold uniforms, masks, and badges of the Shrek Monitoring Corps. Then he began outlining their mission details.
The Inner Court members listened quietly. Normally, they would have received their briefing earlier, but most had been recovering from injuries, so Wang Yan had taken over the assignment.
As for Ma Xiaotao, her unstable condition made her unfit to command, so the position of captain had been handed back to Dai Yueheng.
Elder Xuan, meanwhile, sat nearby drinking and gnawing on a chicken leg, his mind drifting lazily.
He felt a vague concern about Ma Xiaotao's mental state — but shrugged it off.
"Eh, they'll manage," he thought, licking the last of the grease from his fingers. "Now… what should I eat next?"
Yuhao couldn't help but sneer inwardly as he examined the equipment handed to them.
It was no wonder so many Monitoring Corps members died.
The gear was flashy but useless — brightly colored masks, ornate uniforms, and armor that could barely withstand a three-ring attack.
If Shrek truly wanted to protect its students, they could've distributed high-grade defensive soul tools. Instead, they sent their students into deadly missions wearing little more than ceremonial attire.
It was hard not to suspect that this was intentional.
Let the weak die — it saved resources.
And the higher the mortality rate, the greater the academy's reputation for "sacrifice" and "heroism."
After all, if every mission were completed without loss, wouldn't that make the missions seem too easy? Too ordinary?
Only through blood and death could Shrek's myth remain unchallenged.
(End of Chapter)