Wooooom—
The moment Chen Junting's sword fell, silence swallowed the arena.
The space beneath his blade became a vacuum. The air itself had been cut. The killing intent and sword intent swept across the field like a storm of death. To the Tianling team, it felt like they'd been dropped into an ancient sword tomb—walls of corpses, rivers of blood, and a blade with their names on it.
Panic.
Terror.
Their charge collapsed into hesitation, feet frozen, hearts screaming. They could only stare helplessly as the sword came down.
"Tianling admits defeat!"
Their captain's desperate voice rang out just before the strike landed.
The referee, eyes wide, acted on instinct—his martial soul flared as he leapt into the path of the attack, attempting to intercept the blade.
BOOM—!
The Seven Killing Sword, bathed in a brilliant azure glow, crashed against the referee's defensive barrier with cataclysmic force. The shield shattered into countless fragments of white light. The referee was hurled backward like a broken arrow, vanishing in a flash of soul power.
Gasps swept the arena.
The seven Tianling students stood rooted, stunned speechless. Their strongest protector had been blown away in a single blow.
Who could save them now?
Chen Junting exhaled, then spoke softly:
"Return."
The towering shadow of Chen Xin behind him instantly halted. The sword's light dimmed. Runes and energy reversed direction, flowing back into Chen Junting's body like a receding tide.
The pressure vanished.
The Tianling team collapsed, gasping for air, drenched in sweat. They looked like survivors of a disaster.
Xingluo Square was dead silent.
No one—neither nobles nor soldiers, neither civilians nor contestants—made a sound. Even the emperor's platform stood still.
Until…
"Can we consider that a win?"
Chen Junting's calm voice rang out through the soul guide loudspeaker, reaching every corner of the square.
Then came the roar of the crowd.
An explosion of cheers tore through the air. Spectators surged to their feet, eyes bright with disbelief and awe.
They had come for a show.
And Shrek had delivered.
But atop the imperial platform, Emperor Xu Jiawei was still frozen. The sword strike hadn't just been powerful—it had been refined. Absolute. Familiar.
A blade like that could only belong to one legacy.
He turned to his aides, expression sharp. "Who was that?"
A figure appeared beside him instantly, whispering discreetly:
"That student's martial soul is the Seven Killing Sword. The girl beside him is the daughter of Sect Master Ning of the Nine Treasures Glazed Sect. His soul tool array appears to mimic a seven-in-one fusion technique."
"So he's from the Nine Treasures Glazed Sect…" Xu Jiawei murmured. "And that sword… he invoked Chen Xin."
His gaze narrowed.
The Nine Treasures Glazed Sect... Are they preparing to rise again?
Meanwhile, across the arena, on the Sun and Moon Royal Soul Engineering Academy's side—
"Impossible."
Xiao Hongchen's trademark smug expression had vanished. In its place: pure disbelief.
Yes, he could overpower teams like Tianling with ease. Yes, his soul tools were top tier.
But Chen Junting had displayed something else.
For one terrifying moment, he'd touched Soul Sage-level power. That, paired with an auxiliary-type and a bizarre six-part soul tool array Xiao couldn't decipher?
Even the Sun and Moon Academy's two supervising elders, both Level 8 Soul Engineers, looked uneasy. They had been analyzing the tool's construction mid-fight—and failed.
That shouldn't be possible.
Their eyes met.
One silent agreement: Report to the Hall Master immediately.
At the edges of the Soul Arena, 108 Soul Kings who had been channeling power into the Soul Barrier exhaled in unison. They had barely held against the pressure of the sword's residual energy. Every one of them had been prepared to break formation if the barrier gave out.
They were Soul Kings—and yet terrified.
Soon, under orders from the Xingluo Empire, a new referee arrived. He stood in the center of the stage, staring at Chen Junting with a subtle tremble in his posture.
Still, he forced calm and raised his voice:
"In the first match of the elimination round, Shrek Academy defeats Tianling Advanced Soul Master Academy!"
The crowd erupted again.
Chen Junting and Ning Tian walked calmly to join their teammates waiting at the stage's edge. As they did, the Tianling team's substitute players rushed forward to help their comrades.
The Tianling captain suddenly looked up at Junting and called out:
"Thank you… for holding back!"
"What's your name?"
Chen Junting didn't even turn around. He tilted his head slightly, voice light but clear.
"Chen Junting, Nine Treasures Glazed Sect."
His name echoed across the Soul Arena like a declaration.
As the Shrek team descended from the stage, Wang Yan and Ma Xiaotao met them at the ramp, both visibly stunned.
"You call that nothing?" Ma Xiaotao muttered. "That was a whole damn performance."
Even though they had discussed it beforehand, no one had expected Sword Dao · Chen Xin to manifest like that.
Chen Junting shrugged with a smile. "It worked, didn't it?"
"You've been holding back this whole time," Wang Dong grumbled. "We're just props today, huh?"
Chen Junting raised an eyebrow. "You said it, not me."
Laughter broke out among the group.
"Alright, enough," Wang Yan said, clapping. "Let's not block the next match. We'll debrief in the rest area."
Under the admiring gaze of the crowd, Shrek Academy returned to their private seating—celebrated and feared.
But their departure didn't dim the excitement. On the contrary, anticipation burned brighter.
Everyone now waited to see what Shrek would do next.
---
Later that day — Star Sovereign Hotel
After the matches concluded, Shrek's students had barely begun to rest when Wang Yan summoned them to the conference room.
But as they entered, they paused. The person seated at the head of the table wasn't Wang Yan.
It was an elderly woman, face serene, eyes sharp.
Elder Song.
From the moment Chen Junting laid eyes on her, his relaxed air vanished. She didn't exude pressure—she exuded depth. Depth that could not be measured.
Wang Yan gestured toward her. "Everyone, meet Elder Song—Eagle Douluo, a 97th-rank Title Douluo from the Sea God Pavilion. She'll be overseeing us while Elder Xuan remains at the Academy."
"Greetings, Elder Song."
They bowed in unison.
"Ah, no need for formality," she said, her eyes scanning them one by one. When her gaze landed on Chen Junting, her smile deepened.
"I watched your match today," she said lightly. "That seven-in-one soul tool fusion… not bad. Nearly gave me a heart attack."
Chen Junting's heart skipped slightly.
That was no compliment—it was a warning. He understood: others had taken notice. Many eyes were now watching him and, more importantly, his technology.
But he didn't flinch.
He had backing.
And this was just the beginning.
Elder Song moved on, offering praise and encouragement to the others. But then came the criticism.
Most of it fell squarely on Ma Xiaotao.
"You could've avoided this if you weren't so hot-headed," Elder Song said bluntly. "Now look—your injuries match Dai Yaoheng's."
Ma Xiaotao accepted it without complaint.
Then Elder Song addressed the group as a whole.
"In future matches, if the opposing team has no Soul Kings, you will let the reserve team handle them. Don't demoralize weaker teams. Let them walk away with dignity. It's good training for our own students, too."
She paused.
"Except you," she added, eyes twinkling as she looked at Junting. "Your level's already beyond the standard. Unless your opponent wields an ultimate martial soul or divine beast bloodline, they won't match you."
"Long live Elder Song!"
Wang Dong couldn't help but jump up and cheer.
"Seriously," he groaned. "I rate my experience today one out of five stars!"
"I rate it ten… no—thirteen!" he grinned.
Whack!
Wu Feng elbowed him in the ribs. "You're a Soul Master, not a Soul Clown."
---
(End of Chapter)
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