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The group stared at Tang San, their faces twisted with distaste. A grown man losing control like that was unheard of, and it showed in their expressions.
Zhu Zhuqing's voice cut through the silence, sharp and cold. "Disgusting."
Even Xiao Wu, who usually laughed off everything, gave a small nod. This crossed every line.
With Meng Yiran's snake staff inches from his face and his Blue Silver Grass useless, Tang San felt the weight of his failure. His stomach twisted, not just from sickness but from the shame of humiliating himself in front of Xiao Wu. His face darkened, heavier than ever.
The staff slashed toward him. At the last second, he twisted away, feet flickering with Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track and hands guiding Controlling Crane Capturing Dragon. He dodged, just barely. But his body wouldn't cooperate. A loud, wet sound erupted, unstoppable, and a stench filled the air as golden liquid sprayed from his pants, pooling at his feet.
Meng Yiran gagged, her face paling, but she pressed forward.
Zhao Wuji's patience snapped. "Enough. Stop it," he said, voice low and rough.
Meng Yiran let out a shaky breath and stepped back. She stumbled to a nearby tree, bent over, and retched. "I've never seen anything this vile," she muttered between gasps.
The Serpent Lady patted her granddaughter's back, her wrinkled face creasing with a faint smile. The fight had been a disaster, literally but they'd won the Phoenix-Tailed Crest Serpent. With her husband, the Dragon Duke, off chasing another beast, this was their prize.
She turned to Zhao Wuji. "Since you've conceded, the serpent belongs to us."
Zhao Wuji's expression was hard as rock. "A deal's a deal."
"Teacher Zhao?" Oscar's voice wavered. Losing a soul ring this perfect stung deep.
But Tang San didn't wait to hear more. He bolted into the forest, leaving behind a trail of disgrace that echoed through the trees.
The Serpent Lady acted as if she hadn't noticed and nodded at Meng Yiran. "Go on, finish it."
Meng Yiran steadied herself, pushing past the lingering stench, and approached the serpent. Ning Tian's Sword still pinned it to the ground.
Ning Tian had already gotten what he came for, but he didn't move. He glanced at Zhao Wuji, waiting for the word.
"Teacher Zhao!" Oscar tried again, desperation creeping in.
"Hand it over," Zhao Wuji said, his gaze flicking toward the woods where Tang San had fled. Disappointment churned in his chest. 'How could Haotian Douluo's son fall apart like this?' Losing control at the worst moment and costing Oscar a rare soul ring—it was a blow to them all.
Ning Tian pulled his sword free with a smooth tug and tossed the serpent toward Meng Yiran. "It's yours."
Meng Yiran gave the sword a quick look, then nodded at him. She drove her snake staff into the serpent's eye. It twitched once, then went still. A purple soul ring flickered into view above its body.
The Serpent Lady's shoulders eased. It was settled—Zhao Wuji had no room to argue now. She moved to Meng Yiran's side, watching her granddaughter while keeping Zhao Wuji in the corner of her eye. He stared back, just as wary.
The air between them grew tight, unspoken tension stretching thin.
Half an hour later, Meng Yiran's eyes snapped open, her face bright with excitement. "Grandma, it worked! I got an amazing skill!"
"Third soul skill—Serpent Wings!"
To prove it, she summoned the ability. Energy wings flared from her back, shaped like the serpent's own. With a single beat, she launched into the air, zipping around with the same speed as the Phoenix-Tailed Crest Serpent.
Oscar's fists clenched. Ning Tian had been right—this soul ring could've given him flight. It might've raised his standing at Shrek, maybe even caught Ning Rongrong's eye. Now it was gone, lost to Meng Yiran because Tang San couldn't hold it together.
He shot a bitter glance toward the forest. Losing was bad enough, but losing like 'this'? It dragged the whole team down with Tang San.
The Serpent Lady beamed at her granddaughter's success. "Well done. Let's go, Zhao, maybe we'll meet again."
With that, they vanished into the trees.
Zhao Wuji and Oscar stood in heavy silence, frustration simmering between them. Meanwhile, Ning Tian waved Ning Rongrong, Xiao Wu, Zhu Zhuqing, and Ma Hongjun over to a tree. They sat cross-legged, meditating. No sense in letting the time slip away.
Tang San finally returned from the forest, dressed in fresh clothes, his hair damp from a quick wash. He faced Zhao Wuji, his jaw tight. "Teacher Zhao."
"Since you're back, sit and recover," Zhao Wuji said, not meeting his eyes. "Oscar, sausages."
Oscar handed over two without a word and settled down to restore his own energy.
Half an hour passed. Tang San's eyes opened, the gloom on his face replaced by a sudden spark. "Teacher Zhao, I've reached level thirty!"
Zhao Wuji straightened. "Wait, level thirty?"
Tang San didn't answer with words. He summoned his martial soul and soul rings.
Zhao Wuji let out a short laugh. "Well, that's something. Four Spirit Elders at Shrek now. But don't think this erases what happened—you lost the fight and cost Oscar a top-tier soul ring. Next time, if you're not feeling right, say so. Don't push it."
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