Every aching muscle reminded Tang San of the grueling battle. He struggled to his feet, bracing himself against the corridor's smooth, stone-carved wall. His companions looked no better. Dai Mubai, despite trying to maintain his usual confident demeanor, winced as he massaged a bruised shoulder. Xiao Wu and Zhu Zhuqing, though attempting to remain spirited, couldn't hide the occasional rubbing of their sore limbs.
"Fu... She's even stronger than before. Yet during our fight, I saw the faintest smile on her lips," Tang San mused, recalling the lightning-fast strikes and overwhelming force with which she had attacked them. He felt not only exhaustion, but also a strange sense of admiration, wondering what arduous path she must have walked to attain such power. Her strength clearly surpassed what any ordinary spirit sect could hope to produce.
Ning Rongrong seemed the least affected physically, but her expression revealed a mixture of relief and lingering shock. "I've never seen such power," she whispered, eyes on Tang San. "Thank you… for protecting me."
Tang San gave a faint smile in return. "We're a team," he replied hoarsely. "We stick together."
Forcing themselves to move, the group shuffled down the dormitory corridor. The room assigned to them was surprisingly spacious and bright. Four comfortable beds with soft mattresses and silk covers were arranged along the walls, lit by elegant sconces. A large polished wooden table stood in the center, surrounded by cushioned chairs. Outside the windows, they could see the academy's manicured courtyard.
"Well, rookies, make yourselves at home," Dai Mubai said with a smirk as he watched them look around. "Not too shabby, right? Shrek does know how to make you comfortable when it wants to."
With a sigh of relief, Xiao Wu flopped onto the nearest bed, sinking blissfully into the soft pillows. "Now this feels like an academy," she purred. "Back at Nuoding, it was all bare walls, hard beds, and meals just enough to fill your stomach. And the training grounds? Way smaller than what we've seen here."
Tang San sat beside her, the warmth of the room soothing his worn-out body. He knew the path ahead would not be easy. Shrek Academy was infamous for its harsh training, and today had made it abundantly clear—this wasn't going to be a walk in the park. Still, he felt a wave of determination. He had come here to grow stronger and was ready to face whatever trials lay ahead.
"We need rest," he murmured, closing his eyes and soaking in the quiet comfort of the room. "Tomorrow, the real work begins."
The morning came early. As the first rays of sun peeked over the horizon, everyone looked groggy—except for Tang San, who was already used to such discipline. Gathering in the courtyard, the students found Zhao Wuji waiting, his sharp gaze scanning each of them.
"So, we've got four new faces," he growled, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Not bad. A solid addition."
He gestured toward Dai Mubai, standing slightly apart with his trademark confident smirk. There was pride in his eyes, and a spark of curiosity as he studied the newcomers, sensing their talent. "Dai Mubai. Thirty-ninth level, Spirit Grandmaster. And as you may have noticed, he enjoys testing the fresh blood."
Dai Mubai simply shrugged, showing no remorse, though there was a flicker of respect in his eyes for his potential rivals.
Next, Zhao Wuji turned toward two boys standing nearby. "Oscar, thirty-fifth level, Spirit Master, in charge of our food—though if his sausages poison you, don't say I didn't warn you," he muttered. Oscar puffed his cheeks in mock offense, the picture of comedic indignation. "And Ma Hongjun. Thirty-second level, also a Spirit Master. Lover of flames… and anything that moves."
His last comment earned a scoff from Xiao Wu, who met Ma Hongjun's gaze with a defiant glare full of fire, ready to prove herself.
The second-year students were introduced quickly. Li Wei waved with his blade-arm, brimming with battle-hardened energy. Mei Ling offered a sly, feline smile, as if appraising their worth. Zhang Kai simply nodded, exuding the calm sturdiness of a stone golem. All three had the strength to be called monsters, reaching the twenty-ninth and thirtieth spirit levels by thirteen—clear signs of formidable potential.
When it was the newcomers' turn, Tang San stepped forward, emanating quiet confidence. "Tang San. Thirtieth level, Spirit Master. Control-type." He gave Dai Mubai a brief glance, a spark of mutual respect and unspoken challenge passing between them. "We're here to learn and grow stronger."
Xiao Wu didn't wait for an invitation. "Xiao Wu. Thirtieth level, agility-type. And don't underestimate me!" she added with a playful smirk, flashing a quick look at Ma Hongjun that promised retribution. "We've heard about Shrek's strength—we're ready for any challenge."
Ning Rongrong, with noble composure, followed. "Ning Rongrong. Twenty-seventh level, support-type. I hail from the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Clan." Her tone held pride, tempered with the awareness that here, she'd have to earn her place all over again.
Zhu Zhuqing, as always, was brief. "Zhu Zhuqing. Twenty-sixth level. Agility-type." Her detached gaze lingered on Dai Mubai, as though analyzing his power, searching for flaws. Her eyes held a cold resolve, ready to take on any opponent.
Zhao Wuji nodded approvingly. "Good. Now that you've met each other, let's get to the point. Forget whatever you learned in your cozy little academies. This is Shrek. Here, only the strong survive."
He pulled a pile of leather belts from his storage ring, each one looking hefty enough to rein in a spirit beast. "These will be your new best friends," he growled, tossing one to Tang San. "You'll wear them constantly—only remove them to sleep. Even in spirit battles, they stay on."
He scanned the pale faces of the rookies, clearly relishing the moment. "Every two months, their weight will increase. So enjoy them while they're still relatively light."
Zhao Wuji clapped Tang San's shoulder, nearly knocking him over. "Yours weighs forty kilos. Control isn't just about battlefield awareness—it's about controlling yourself. Willpower. Endurance. Don't fall behind."
Then he turned to Dai Mubai, kicking his belt with a grin. "Yours? Eighty kilos. Strength-types get no mercy. Crushing enemies means moving like a tank—so you'll train like one."
He explained that agility belts weighed less—twenty to thirty kilos—to allow movement, while Ning Rongrong's, at fifteen kilos, was still heavy enough to build stamina without hindering support capabilities.
"For the first half of today, you'll get acquainted with these 'friends,'" Zhao Wuji concluded with a devilish grin. "Then we'll see what you're made of."
After just a few hours in the weighted belts, their bodies felt like lead. Even the simplest movement became a challenge. Every step sent pain shooting through their limbs. Breathing was ragged, muscles trembled under the strain.
Tang San, ever disciplined, tried to stay composed—but sweat poured down his back, and his legs wobbled beneath him. Xiao Wu, despite her agility, staggered with each movement, her once-mischievous eyes now clouded with fatigue. Zhu Zhuqing moved with her usual grace, but subtle shifts revealed her growing discomfort.
Only Ning Rongrong, sheltered by her sect's comforts, looked completely out of her depth. She stumbled repeatedly, her face twisted in frustration and exhaustion. After yet another fall, she tore the belt from her waist, collapsing against a nearby wall, gasping for breath.
Dai Mubai frowned, watching her. "What are you doing? We're all going through the same thing. You think you're special?" he growled, his voice tinged with pain and rising irritation. He understood the struggle—but believed this was a trial they had to endure together.
Oscar, panting heavily and wiping the sweat from his brow, tried to ease the tension.
"Rong Rong, it's hard for all of us, but it's important to adapt. Believe me, in time, you'll feel the difference. It really works. Remember what Zhao Wuji said? Control isn't just about ruling others — it's about mastering yourself. About willpower and endurance."
He knew what he was saying. Despite his role as a support, he always paid attention to his physical training, understanding that in battle, it's not only the strongest who survives, but also the most enduring. Even a support must be ready for hardship.
But Ning Rongrong seemed deaf to their reasoning. Her face bore a mixture of disdain and arrogance.
"If you need it, then wear it," she snapped, her voice dripping with contempt.
"My role is support. Without me, you'll achieve nothing. Developing physical strength is not my duty. You are obligated to protect me to the last breath. Those are the rules of my sect. My sect didn't send me here for exhausting training — they sent me to strengthen you!"
Such brazen defiance, so typical of the pampered daughter of a sect leader from one of the Four Great Clans, provoked fury among the others. Even the usually calm Tang San frowned, feeling anger boil within him. He understood the value of support, but believed every team member should be strong and self-sufficient, capable of surviving on their own.
Xiao Wu clenched her fists, ready to explode, but Zhu Zhuqing gently held her back with a touch. Her expression remained serene, but a cold gleam appeared in her eyes.
Suddenly, a voice like ice echoed through the hallway.
"Ten laps around the academy. No excuses."
Everyone turned to see Flender standing in the doorway. His face was unreadable, his eyes burning with fiery wrath. Ning Rongrong paled but tried to maintain her dignity.
"You're just a pitiful Douluo. How dare you order me around? If something happens to me, or if I'm even slightly displeased, my sect will raze this academy to the ground!" she declared, trying to leverage her family's influence.
Flender chuckled, the sound more terrifying than any shout.
"Are you certain about that?" he asked, steel edging his voice.
Before she could answer, a spatial rift opened in the corridor, and Fu Huan stepped through, a folded parchment in her hand.
"This is a message from your family, Rong Rong," Fu Huan said calmly, offering her the letter.
With trembling hands, Ning Rongrong took the letter and skimmed through it quickly. Her expression fell, and all aristocratic pride vanished, replaced by horror and despair. At the bottom of the parchment was her father's unmistakable signature. Tears welled in her eyes, and she shuffled toward the exit, dragging the heavy belt behind her.
Flender watched her go with grim satisfaction.
"Oscar," he said, turning to the stunned boy. "Try to encourage our 'princess.' Show her what true support spirit means. Explain why even a support must know how to stand their ground. Tell her that support isn't just about amplifying allies — it's about being there in their darkest hour, sharing their pain and suffering, and being the pillar that helps them rise again."
Oscar nodded and hurried after Ning Rongrong, knowing the conversation ahead would be difficult. He understood her fear and pride, but also knew that if she wanted to survive at Shrek and become a true spirit master, she would have to change.
The day before, Fu Huan had been studying the biographies of the newcomers. Ning Rongrong intrigued her the most — a genius with innate level-nine spirit power, heir to the wealthiest clan on the continent.
The "Little Witch," as many called her behind her back, was used to getting whatever she wanted and had never known hardship. Her clan boasted over three thousand spirit practitioners of varying levels, including two Title Douluo of the ninety-fifth and ninety-sixth rank.
"Jian Douluo (剑斗罗), also known as Chen Xin (尘心), possessed the 'Seven Killing Swords' spirit. Known for his unmatched offensive prowess and fiery temper, he was a Title Douluo of the ninety-sixth level.
Bone Douluo (骨斗罗), also known as Gu Jun (骨榕), possessed the 'Bone Dragon' spirit. Renowned for his defensive capabilities and mobility, he was somber and elusive, a Title Douluo of the ninety-fifth level."
Fu Huan knew that facing either of them was not something she wanted. Their power and influence were immense, and one misstep could bring serious consequences.
Yet she also knew that inaction was worse than risk.
She saw potential in Ning Rongrong — a rare and valuable talent. If she could help her change and grow stronger, it would be a great asset to the academy.
Securing an audience with the clan leader proved harder than expected. The guards were alert, and the atmosphere tense. But when she mentioned her knowledge of Ning Rongrong's whereabouts and concerns about her conduct, she was immediately granted entry.
The hall she was led into radiated majesty and grandeur. A powerful sword intent emanated from Chen Xin, prickling her skin. Gu Rong's icy gaze pierced into her, as if seeking the depths of her soul. Both Title Douluo exuded a suffocating pressure of strength and danger.
But Fu Huan showed no fear or hesitation.
Unlike the past — when such oppressive aura would have crushed her physically and spiritually — she now stood firm, confident in her honed survival and escape skills developed over the past two years.
She met Ning Fengzhi's gaze, the clan leader, and he understood her unspoken message.
"Do not pressure her. Allow this young lady to speak," he said gently, but with authority, calming his companions.
Unlike the others, Ning Fengzhi saw more than just strength in Fu Huan — he saw talent. His obsession with recruiting gifted individuals was well-known, and it would be foolish to overlook such an opportunity. Especially when this girl, clearly, did not fear the might of two Title Douluo.
"Allow me to introduce myself — Fu Huan, vice principal of Shrek Academy, unique-type spiritual master, sectless, forty-fourth rank. I haven't come here without purpose. Your daughter has registered at our academy, but her willfulness and arrogant attitude are hindering her progress."
Chen Xin and Gu Rong exchanged angry looks. They didn't like this girl's tone when speaking about their sect leader's daughter, but they had at least confirmed her location.
"Now that you know where she is, you can either take her back or give a formal statement confirming that her authority shall not interfere with training or peer relations. We do not tolerate disrespect or arrogance at our academy," Fu Huan said firmly, her voice unwavering.
Chen Xin spoke first, his tone cold as a blade.
"Then we'll take her back immediately. We won't let some academy dictate how our princess should behave."
Gu Rong nodded in grim agreement.
But Ning Fengzhi seemed to have other thoughts. He looked at Fu Huan thoughtfully, weighing her strength and resolve.
"My name is Ning Fengzhi, and I'm glad my daughter may finally find friends and such highly qualified mentors as yourselves," he said with a warm smile.
"I've heard of your academy. In just two years, you've risen from obscurity to become an elite institution training only monsters. A remarkable feat. I believe Ning Rongrong can learn much from you. She needs to be far from home, to see the real world, to learn the value of friendship and cooperation.
Especially from you — the Platinum Queen of the Spirit Arena, Moonlit Veil — whose accomplishments have stunned even the elite, and from the one who helped build an education and funding system that others take decades to construct, all in under two years. Knowing she's in such an academy puts my heart at ease.
As long as you maintain reasonable boundaries and rules, Ning Rongrong shall remain under your guidance."
He quickly penned a letter on parchment and handed it to Fu Huan.
"Give this to her. I believe it will convince her that our influence on the academy will be minimal, and that she must respect your rules. I trust you'll guide her on the right path."
Taking the letter, Fu Huan realized her mission was complete. She didn't linger in the hall, sensing her presence was no longer required. With a graceful bow, she turned and exited, using her spatial rift skill to return swiftly to the academy.
Her figure vanished into shimmering space, leaving behind only a whisper of wind — and astonished gazes.
"Is this really a necessary measure?" Chen Xin asked anxiously, breaking the silence that had settled after Fu Huan's departure. Ning Fengzhi sighed and looked at his companions with a wise smile. "Yes, it's a necessary measure. This girl wanted assurances that we wouldn't interfere in the academy's affairs or impose our rules on them. She wants Rong Rong to learn independence and responsibility. Even if they bring her to tears, it will be a valuable lesson, as long as they don't cross moral boundaries and resort to outright bullying. I'm at peace knowing that she's under the watchful eyes of teachers like Flender and this young, yet incredibly talented Fu Huan."
He scanned the room, his face expressing a mixture of pride and admiration. "This girl is special. She looks no older than fifteen. When was the last time you saw a fifteenth-year sect master? She is well-rounded, and, from what we know, she wasn't born with full innate spiritual power. Her initial level was only eight. It's a great fortune for Rong Rong to learn from such a prodigy. Moreover, her teachers are the Holy Spirits, and her main mentor is Dulo, one of the Golden Triangle members, Flender. And you know what? In the two years Fu Huan has been at Shrek, their levels have grown rapidly. Her appearance at Shrek is a great stroke of luck and possibly the beginning of something new for the entire world of spirit masters."
The young Ning Fengzhi had long gathered all the information about the academy and its teachers. He understood that Shrek was not just another educational institution, but a place where monsters were born, and where his daughter could truly unlock her potential. However, Fu Huan was no longer listening to the conclusions being drawn by Ning Fengzhi and the two esteemed title Douluos. She hurried back to the academy, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of the upcoming challenges and how to help her students become stronger.