Chapter 16: Trial of the Soul Arena

Ning Rongrong collapsed onto the grass outside the academy walls, struggling to catch her breath. Her legs trembled, her throat felt parched, and her head throbbed—not from exhaustion alone, but from humiliation. She had grown accustomed to admiration and reverence, yet here, at Shrek Academy, she had been forced to face her own weakness head-on. The ten laps around the academy grounds had proven to be a true ordeal.

Oscar knelt beside her, offering a flask of water. There was no mockery in his gaze, nor pity—only gentle understanding.

"Rough day?" he asked softly.

Rongrong snorted as she took the water.

"You bet," she muttered, taking a long gulp. The cool liquid refreshed her, easing the fire burning within. "I almost died. And it's all because of that stupid belt!"

She tried to unfasten the training belt, but her hands trembled too much to manage the clasp. Without a word, Oscar reached over and helped her remove it. Rongrong turned away with a frown.

"It's not just the belt, is it?" Oscar smiled, and strangely, Rongrong didn't feel the usual irritation at his expression—quite the opposite. "This is your first time being pushed beyond your limits. Things weren't like this in the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, were they?"

Rongrong snorted again, taking another sip.

"Back there... everything was for me," she admitted, turning her face away. "The best teachers, the best resources... My strength grew effortlessly. But here… here I suddenly feel weak. Useless. And no one's going to walk on eggshells around me!"

There was indignation in her voice, but beneath it lingered confusion, and fear.

"You're not useless, Rongrong," Oscar said firmly. "You're just seeing strength from the wrong perspective. Support isn't just about enhancing your allies' attacks. It's also about standing by them when things get tough. Sharing their pain, their fatigue, their despair. Offering your shoulder… or, if needed, quietly helping them remove a cursed training belt."

He smiled again, and this time Rongrong noticed a certain warmth in his smile.

"You know, when I first arrived at Shrek, I was the weakest one," Oscar confessed softly. "My spirit is just sausages. Can you imagine what it's like to fight beside monsters like Mubai or Tang San, knowing the best you can do is feed them? I felt… like an outsider."

Rongrong listened without interrupting. She had never seen Oscar this serious. Usually, he teased and joked, and she'd return his sarcasm with her own. But now… now he seemed like someone entirely different.

"But then I realized that my strength lies elsewhere," Oscar continued. "I can offer something no one else can—a quiet confidence that no matter the situation, I'll be there. That they can go all out without fear of being left behind. That even if they fall, I'll be there to help them rise again. And that… that's strength too. A tremendous strength."

He paused for a moment, his gaze distant, then looked back at her.

"You'll learn, Rongrong," he said gently. "You are strong. You just need time to find your strength. And we… we'll help you. Even with that awful temper of yours."

He added the last part with a grin, and Rongrong felt the corners of her lips twitch in spite of herself. She looked up at him, and in that moment, Oscar seemed like more than just a teammate. He was… something more. Someone important. Someone she might even want to become like.

Life at Shrek Academy flowed in a relentless rhythm of training, scheduled meals, cultivation in mimetic environments, and fierce combat within the Soul Arena.

The Soul Arena was more than just a proving ground—it was a sacred complex, built for trials and rites of passage. At its heart lay the combat platform, surrounded by protective barriers capable of withstanding even the fiercest blows. The platform was etched with mystical symbols and runes that glowed in response to activated spirit abilities. For many students, the Soul Arena was a place of initiation, where their skills were honed, their spirit tempered, and invaluable combat experience gained. Talent was but a spark—only through the crucible of battle could it be fanned into true mastery. The golden badge of the Soul Arena, symbolizing recognition and prowess, was a mandatory mark for every student, whether they preferred to fight alone, in pairs, or as part of a group.

Tang San, watching the ferocious duels within the arena, found his thoughts drifting to Fu Huan. Her overwhelming strength and detachment from the usual bustle had always stirred in him a mix of admiration and curiosity.

"Teacher Zhao, what kind of badge does Fu Huan hold?" Tang San couldn't hold back the question.

Zhao Wuji chuckled, his gaze softening at the mention of her name.

"She… she's outside the standard badge system," he replied. "Formally, the highest rank is gold, but Fu Huan… she earned something greater. Since her debut, she hasn't lost a single match—not even Soul Kings could best her. For her, a special title and insignia were created, one that signifies absolute dominance—the Platinum Badge."

He paused, as if recalling a distant memory, then added, "She also has a friend—equally talented and mysterious. In one-on-one and two-on-two formats, they're undefeated. Many have challenged them, but now Fu Huan rarely enters the arena. Ordinary battles no longer interest her."

Friend? Tang San echoed in his thoughts, recalling lines from one of Fu Huan's old letters, where she spoke of meeting an extraordinarily gifted girl. Could it be her...?

Zhao Wuji shifted his gaze to Dai Mubai, who stood nearby with arms crossed.

"Mubai, what badge do you have?" he asked with a raised brow.

Dai Mubai beamed with pride.

"Fifty-eight wins, nine losses. Silver badge," he replied with a touch of smugness.

After completing their registration at the Spirit Arena, the newcomers decided to compete under aliases, a veil of anonymity shielding them from unnecessary attention and future scrutiny.

The opening bouts of the seasoned fighters passed swiftly, their dominance evident. They controlled the field with the ease born of long experience, displaying superior technique and unrelenting force. The audience—accustomed to the high standards of Shrek Academy—was not easily impressed, yet even they could not hide their admiration.

Then came a match between two newly registered contestants: "Thousand-Hand Asura" versus "Hell Civet." A hush fell upon the arena, the crowd holding its breath in anticipation of a clash between two rising stars.

From both competitors radiated a potent spiritual aura—an unmistakable sign of Spirit Masters with immense potential.

As per the rules of the Spirit Arena, the first minute was allotted to the summoning of their spirits and the display of spirit rings.

Tang San summoned his Blue Silver Grass. Unlike any common plant, it shimmered with a dense, almost tangible spiritual energy. Two yellow rings hovered around him like divine halos, marking his cultivation level. Across from him, Zhu Zhuqing called forth her Hell Civet, her figure enveloped in shadow. Twin yellow rings encircled her as well.

The signal sounded.

Without hesitation, Tang San unleashed his first soul skill—Binding Vines.

The dense tendrils of Blue Silver Grass surged across the stage with blinding speed, constricting Zhu Zhuqing's space with ruthless precision. Relying on her agility, she darted between the vines, but it was as if Tang San anticipated every move.

Evading one vine only led her into the grasp of another. Slashing desperately with her claws, she found the vines more resilient than expected. She hesitated—just a second too long to release her second soul skill—and the vines bound her completely.

Lowering her head in surrender, she muttered, "I need more power… I concede."

The commentator's voice boomed across the arena: "Victory—Thousand-Hand Asura!"

The evening's two-versus-two battles were also dominated by the Shrek disciples. Tang San and Xiao Wu moved like mirrored reflections, their synergy flawless. Every strike was met with seamless support, as if they performed a deadly duet rather than a fight. Rong Rong, in another team, played a pivotal support role—her precise buffs and timely shields ensured her partner's advantage remained absolute.

Watching their coordination, Zhao Wuji couldn't help the grin tugging at his lips. "These little monsters… they've far exceeded my expectations."

Most of the academy's students emerged victorious that day. Realizing they could make quite a profit through bets while maintaining anonymity, the newcomers quickly turned the Spirit Arena into both a battlefield and a business venture. By nightfall, their pouches were considerably heavier.

"You've earned your rest. Go feast like kings tonight," Zhao Wuji declared as he welcomed the students back. "Training begins again at the usual hour tomorrow."

With cheerful chatter and rumbling stomachs, the group headed to the nearest tavern, where steaming dishes and brimming cups awaited.

Not far off, students from another academy sat clad in crimson robes—their uniformity a stark contrast to Shrek's unrestrained, expressive attire. As tensions simmered, the red-robed students began "accidentally" spilling food and drink in Shrek's direction.

But Tang San, ever composed, intercepted every projectile with effortless grace, allowing nothing to reach his companions. Rong Rong giggled, unable to contain herself at the failed provocation.

Realizing their attempt had failed, the instigators tried to retreat. But Tang San and Dai Mubai stepped forward, cold stares cutting like blades.

"Thought you could walk away that easily?" Mubai growled, his gaze ablaze.

Without waiting for an answer, he struck with lightning speed. One of the red-robed students slammed into the tavern wall with a crash. Tang San followed with his Binding Vines, immobilizing the others before delivering a flurry of precise, punishing blows.

The entire group lay crumpled on the floor, groaning in pain, when their instructor finally intervened.

"Where are you little brats from?" snarled the man, his voice thick with fury.

The Shrek students didn't answer—not out of fear, but a sense of mischief. Rather than declare their names, they summoned their spirits and displayed their soul rings.

The optimal configuration—two yellow, or two yellow and one purple—spoke volumes. The Spirit King's expression shifted.

"Are they from a noble family? A prestigious academy?" he wondered, his arrogance beginning to fade. "Even if they are, that gives them no right to treat my students like this!"

With a roar, he released his spirit—a colossal turtle with a thick shell and mighty limbs. Around him appeared five rings: one white, two yellow, and two purple.

"A defense-type beast, but likely with offensive capabilities as well," Tang San quickly assessed.

Dai Mubai, no longer holding back, let loose.

"White Tiger Transformation!"

His muscles swelled, black stripes slashing across his face, his body taking on the form of the fierce beast within.

Tang San activated Super Binding Vines, which surged from the earth to restrain their opponent.

Ma Hongjun, wreathed in flames, prepared to unleash his inferno.

The Shrek students, a perfect machine of violence and precision, readied themselves.

From a distance, Zhao Wuji watched without intervening. He wanted to see what his "little monsters" could do in a real fight.

Appearing silently through a spatial rift, Fu Huan joined him.

"Looking to warm up too?" Zhao Wuji asked with a grin, eyes fixed on the clash.

Fu Huan offered a faint smile.

"No. I simply came to congratulate them on their first victory," she said softly.

Meanwhile, battle raged on.

Tang San restrained their opponent with entangling vines, limiting his movement. Mubai's heavy strikes shook the earth, while Ma Hongjun's flames scorched relentlessly. Rong Rong, positioned behind, enhanced their strength and shielded their flanks, turning the team into a force of nature.

Their coordination was astonishing—especially considering how recently they'd started fighting together. Though unable to claim a swift victory, their relentless pressure forced the Spirit King into full defense.

But he was no novice. The Spirit King retaliated fiercely, blocking and countering with practiced skill.

The battle dragged on. Tang San's spirit power waned. Mubai's arms ached from every blow. Ma Hongjun struggled to breathe through the heat of his own flames. Even Rong Rong, though not in direct combat, was straining.

Sensing time slipping away, Mubai gave Tang San a signal.

Tang San channeled all his remaining energy into his vines, binding the Spirit King's arms with newfound strength. It was a gamble—they might snap under the force—but he banked on surprise.

At the same time, Mubai focused all his strength into one final blow, driving his fist into the Spirit King's solar plexus. The man doubled over in pain, winded and stunned.

Ma Hongjun seized the opportunity. Flames roared forth, engulfing the enemy in a torrent of fire.

When the smoke cleared, the Spirit King stood naked, his robes scorched away, his body covered in burns and bruises.

Fu Huan, shielding her eyes, couldn't help but laugh softly.

The Spirit King, spotting her, was overcome with humiliation and rage. Ignoring his wounds, he lunged toward her, hurling threats and promising vengeance.

But Fu Huan, eyes still closed, replied calmly, "If you don't move your hand, I will break it."

He ignored her warning.

A sickening crack echoed through the tavern as his arm bent unnaturally. He screamed in pain.

"I said, we're done for today," Fu Huan added, her voice like distant thunder. "Let's return. You made enough noise for one night."

The Shrek students, not daring to defy her, quickly followed, leaving behind the broken Spirit King and his defeated students, vanquished both in body and pride.