Audience Seats, VIP Section
Salas gazed intently at the dark-cloaked Xiao Tianyang (Edward) on the stage, his voice low and measured.
"This year's competition is truly extraordinary. First, Shrek Academy emerges out of nowhere, harboring geniuses among its ranks. And now, we witness this little monster with a top-tier soul bone. It seems this tournament will be far more interesting than anticipated..."
Beside him, Ning Fengzhi frowned slightly at Salas's uncharacteristic calm. 'This isn't like him...'
After a moment, he smiled and remarked, "Indeed. But these youngsters are merely playing around. After all, aside from the seed team recommended by Spirit Hall, there's also that prodigy among them, isn't there?"
His words carried an implicit meaning, and Salas caught it effortlessly.
But this was no secret. At their level of influence, such information was hardly difficult to uncover.
Thus, Salas made no attempt to conceal his intentions, answering frankly, "A sixteen-year-old Soul Emperor, with a soul ring configuration beyond ordinary standards. A pity he isn't from the mainland."
"Barbarians?" Ning Fengzhi's eyebrows rose in surprise.
First, he hadn't expected Salas to be so direct.
Second, it was the implication of the other's final statement.
The so-called "foreigners" referred to the barbarian tribes from distant lands—not savages in the crude sense, but people who dwelled deep in the forests, isolated from the world. Their customs, culture, and etiquette differed vastly, creating a natural divide in interaction. Hence, they were labeled as such.
Ning Fengzhi had once personally visited a barbarian tribe to negotiate cooperation with their chieftain. Yet their deep-seated xenophobia ensured none would ever join an outside force.
But now?
Salas had openly admitted that Spirit Hall's peerless genius hailed from the barbarians.
How could this not shock him?
"Sect Master Ning seems unusually interested in their origins?" Salas arched a brow, studying the other man.
"Your Excellency, let's not misconstrue my words," Ning Fengzhi replied smoothly, his smile faint. "I once extended goodwill, but if memory serves, Spirit Hall wasn't particularly fond of the barbarians either, was it?"
"Times change," Salas said indifferently. "Moreover, the barbarian's son has already pledged allegiance to Spirit Hall. Why not wait and see for yourself?"
Ning Fengzhi's heart sank, though his expression betrayed nothing. He clasped his hands in mock congratulation. "Then I must commend Spirit Hall for transforming hostility into friendship with the barbarians."
For a moment, Salas felt a flicker of satisfaction—until he realized he'd been maneuvered. His face darkened.
Originally, the conversation was meant to steer toward Edward—or rather, Xiao Tianyang of Shrek Academy. Yet somehow, he had become the main subject.
Now, any attempt to redirect the discussion felt forced. He'd been outplayed.
…
On the Stage, Feng Xiaotian finally wrenched his head free from the rubble, his face ashen as he stared at Xiao Tianyang. The arrogance in his eyes had fractured, replaced by dawning dread.
No matter how talented he was, facing such monstrous power was beyond him. The moment that shockwave struck, he'd known resistance was futile—like trying to hold back the heavens themselves.
"Captain... we lost," one teammate groaned, clutching his head. "This guy... he's on a completely different level." His voice was thick with guilt and bitterness.
The guilt stemmed from knowing how deeply this defeat would wound Feng Xiaotian's pride. The bitterness? That came from the same realization as his captain: Xiao Tianyang's strength was insurmountable.
"It's not your fault. None of this is." Feng Xiaotian gritted his teeth. "The problem isn't us—it's that our opponent is simply too strong." His fists clenched. "But this ruins everything. There won't be a next chance...
"Damn it!"
The plan was ashes now.
It wasn't just the loss itself—this wasn't a life-or-death enemy, after all. But he'd sworn to Huo Wu he'd crush this opponent and force her to acknowledge his courtship.
Instead?
Not only had he lost, he'd been obliterated.
"Clatter."
A pebble rolled to a stop before Feng Xiaotian. Before he even looked up, he felt Xiao Tianyang's presence looming over him—a suffocating pressure that pinned him in place.
"Did that strike shatter your confidence too?" Xiao Tianyang's voice was deliberately altered, the rasping tone stripping any warmth from the words, leaving only cold mockery.
"What do you want? To gloat?" Feng Xiaotian forced himself upright, glaring.
"Think what you will. I just consider you a worthy opponent, that's all." With that, Xiao Tianyang turned and walked away, leaving Feng Xiaotian frozen in place.
"Captain...?" A teammate's hesitant call snapped him back to reality.
"From today onward," Feng Xiaotian growled, "our biweekly training becomes daily. Anyone who falls short will answer to me personally."
The other four team members had since regained consciousness. At his declaration, their faces twisted between relief and dread.
Relief, because their captain's spirit had reignited—Huo Wu momentarily forgotten.
Dread, because their lives were about to become a waking nightmare.
Yet inwardly, they were grateful to Xiao Tianyang.
That single sentence—simple as it was—had been a lifeline for Feng Xiaotian's pride. Had the fight been close, or even a narrow loss, he might've dismissed the words as further mockery.
But this? This was utter domination.
And to earn recognition from someone so far beyond him?
That was a different kind of victory altogether.
…
Among the onlookers, expressions varied—but none more telling than Salas's.
'Edward's ability to win loyalty is no small matter,' he mused darkly, his gaze fixed on Xiao Tianyang's retreating figure.
'It seems this generation of geniuses will owe him more than a few favors.' A thread of killing intent coiled in his chest.
'Cross me, and I'll rip out this thorn with my own hands.'
Beside him, Ning Fengzhi's thoughtful silence sharpened into vigilance as he sensed the shift in Salas's aura.
…
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