Lin Chen didn't really want to believe it, so he sat down cross-legged and attempted to cultivate. Sure enough, he sensed a difference from before.
In the past, his cultivation speed wasn't lightning-fast like 5G, but at least it was smooth like 3G or 4G. However, ever since being affected by this poison attribute, his cultivation felt like it was stuck on 1G or 2G speeds—lagging and sluggish.
It was true—he had lost a huge portion of his potential.
Originally, Lin Chen already had a life-and-death grudge against Yu Xiaogang. Now that his future had also been severed by him, Lin Chen's hatred toward Yu Xiaogang was boundless. Gritting his teeth, he growled:
"Damn you, Yu Xiaogang. Just because you crippled me doesn't mean I'll let you go. So what if I only have innate level-two soul power? I will still have my revenge!"
The Evil Lord spoke up: "Do you even know who Yu Xiaogang really is?"
"I do," Lin Chen replied. "He's the eldest legitimate son of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan's patriarch. Because his martial soul mutated negatively, he lives in seclusion in Nuoding City. He's told me this dozens of times."
"If you know that, then you should also understand—even if he's not favored by his clan, he still bears the noble bloodline of the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan. If you kill him, do you think this matter will just go away?"
"Senior, even if it can't be resolved peacefully, so what?" Lin Chen said coldly. "We all carry our heads on our shoulders. Once it's chopped off, we die. What makes him any more noble than us peasants? I still want him dead."
Lin Chen stood up and bowed to the Evil Lord. "Senior Evil Lord, thank you for saving my life. I, Lin Chen, have nothing to offer in return. If I survive after getting my revenge, I'll become your servant or slave to repay you."
"I don't need you to be my servant," the Evil Lord shook his head. "What I need… is your hatred."
"My hatred?"
"Become my disciple. I'll give you the sharpest blade to achieve everything you desire," said the Evil Lord.
Without hesitation, Lin Chen knelt and formally took him as his master.
"Summon your martial soul," the Evil Lord instructed.
"Alright." Lin Chen activated his martial soul. A solitary white soul ring floated around him. The Evil Lord reached out and touched the ring, suddenly infusing it with a portion of Eternal Divine Power. Instantly, the soul ring shattered. But due to the divine power, Lin Chen wasn't harmed by the backlash. His soul power level, however, dropped back to level 10.
"This soul ring is unfit for you. As my disciple, your first soul ring should at least be a thousand-year one," said the Evil Lord.
"But isn't the limit for a first soul ring just over four hundred years?" Lin Chen asked.
"You still believe that?" the Evil Lord scoffed.
Only then did Lin Chen realize—that limit was something Yu Xiaogang had told him.
"Everyone has their own limits. There's no universal number that can apply to all. Of course, he wasn't entirely wrong—423 years is the standard for most soul masters. After all, that's the general conclusion reached over tens of thousands of years of soul master development on the Douluo Continent," the Evil Lord explained.
"General conclusion…" Lin Chen thought of Yu Xiaogang's proud claim that it was the result of thorough data analysis. At the time, Lin Chen had admired him greatly.
"Then what is my limit?" Lin Chen asked.
"Right now, you're only capable of absorbing one hundred year soul ring. But don't worry—your master has ways to raise your potential ceiling," the Evil Lord said, producing two soul guide syringes.
"What are these, Master?" Lin Chen asked.
"These are treasures. The first syringe contains an extract of the Octagonal Mysterious Ice Grass and Infernal Delicate Apricot—an extraordinary blend that will enhance your natural talent and significantly evolve your martial soul. The second contains the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon gene. You will first evolve your martial soul, then inject the gene to obtain the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon martial soul, becoming a twin martial soul user."
Lin Chen took the two syringes and followed the Evil Lord's instructions. After injecting the first, his martial soul gradually evolved from Spirit Breath Grass to Holy Spirit Grass.
Then he injected the second one. After enduring great pain, he successfully awakened his second martial soul: the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon.
(At this point, some readers might wonder: why not give Lin Chen the Golden Holy Dragon martial soul to spite Yu Xiaogang? There are two reasons: First, Lin Chen's original martial soul could only barely coexist with the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon after evolving. Second—well, stay tuned.)
Thus, a twin martial soul, innate full soul power genius was created—through technology. Truly, technology changes lives—and destiny.
"Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon!" Lin Chen summoned his new martial soul and felt the overwhelming power it granted. Excitedly, he laughed menacingly: "Keh keh keh… Yu Xiaogang, are you ready for my revenge? I will tear you to pieces—!"
"Too small-minded. Your vision is too narrow."
Lin Chen looked at the Evil Lord in confusion. Could it be his master wanted him to let go of this hatred and show a bigger heart?
"Everyone has their own aspirations. Tell me, what does Yu Xiaogang desire most?" the Evil Lord asked.
Lin Chen fell into thought. Through his time with Yu Xiaogang, he had come to understand the man's personality. Yu Xiaogang was someone stifled by his circumstances, and his lifelong goal was—
"He wants to reverse the negative mutation of his martial soul and erase his reputation as a failure. That's why he takes in disciples—to prove his theories through their success and gain fame for himself."
"Hahahahaha…" the Evil Lord laughed. "Good. You're not stupid."
"Then, compared to killing him outright, a far more elegant revenge is to make him live in misery. Ensure he never fulfills his ambitions—force him to writhe like a maggot in the shadows while helplessly watching you soar to the heavens," the Evil Lord said.
"I understand now, Master," Lin Chen's eyes lit up.
"Jie Jie Jie…"
"Jie Jie Jie…"
"Welcome to Spark."
Far away in Nuoding City's Soul Master Academy, Yu Xiaogang suddenly shivered.
He looked around in confusion but shrugged it off and continued worrying about where he might find a promising student to prove his theories.
(Elsewhere)
To establish an academy, the first thing needed is a strong faculty.
In the world of Douluo Continent, powerful Soul Masters often come from Noble Families and or sects. As someone of the ordinary peasant whose destiny was changed due to a Martial Soul awakening by the Spirit Hall, Flender naturally couldn't attract support from Noble Families or Sects.
Even someone like Yu Xiaogang, from a noble clan who was looked down upon by his own kind due to a mutated Martial Soul, still looked down upon Flender, who was of commoner origin—let alone other Noble Families and Sects.
Thus, Flender could only look among the Commoner for like-minded individuals to form his core team.
Flender was also quite fortunate. After thousands of years of Martial Soul awakenings conducted by Spirit Hall, the Douluo Continent saw the rise of the largest class of Commoner Soul Masters. Most Commoners from humble backgrounds revered Spirit Hall as a sacred place for Soul Masters and were eager to join it.
However, there was always a small minority who, after having their Martial Souls awakened and discovering their exceptional talent, grew to resent the greed and selfishness of Spirit Hall. These Commoner Soul Masters, longing for freedom and unwilling to be bound by Spirit Hall's dogma, chose to defy it.
For example, Zhao Wuji, who awakened the Vigorous Vajra Bear Martial Soul, became full of pride after his awakening. In his youth, he was hot-headed and prone to trouble. He once clashed with people from Spirit Hall and even injured some of their members, earning their enmity. Spirit Hall, recognizing Zhao Wuji's potential, tried to recruit him, but his stubborn nature made him reject them, which led to a manhunt.
During that pursuit, Zhao Wuji, already a Soul Emperor, managed to withstand the siege of sixteen Spirit Hall bishops—all of whom were at least level 60 Soul Emperors—and successfully escaped. This battle made his name known far and wide but also permanently severed his ties with Spirit Hall.
It was after this that he met Flender, and the two became close friends.
Later, they met Li Yusong and Lu Bingqi, and so the foundation for Shrek's makeshift troupe was laid.
Due to a lack of funds, they could only establish Shrek Academy in a small village.
"Ten gold soul coins for tuition, and the requirement that applicants be under 12 years old and have a soul power level of at least 20—my god, isn't that way too strict?" said Li Yusong.
"Strict?" Flender sneered. "There isn't a single advanced Soul Master academy on the entire continent that admits commoner Soul Masters. We're recruiting them at Shrek Academy—doesn't that justify the price?"
"Ahem," Li Yusong coughed. "Dean Flender, what I meant was, setting the requirement at level 20 soul power before age 12—that might be a bit too harsh."
Flender replied, "We don't have much money, so we need to spend what we do have wisely. If Shrek wants to become strong, we have to uphold quality over quantity. Shrek is Shrek because it trains monsters—not garbage."
He continued, "If we accept just anyone, true talent won't come to us. By going in the opposite direction—creating a school solely for 'monsters'—we build an environment that attracts monster-level students, right?"
Zhao Wuji, Li Yusong, and the others were convinced by Flender's reasoning.
It was, in fact, an excellent marketing strategy. Given how run-down Shrek was, it was only thanks to teachers like Flender and this unique "monster" branding that they could truly attract talent. (Of course, training talent into actual achievers is something any competent advanced Soul Master academy can do. If it weren't for the later rise of freakishly strong students like Tang San and company, Shrek Academy's actions might just be seen as showboating.)
The next day, in a rural area near Soto City, Shrek Academy was officially founded.
The news spread like wildfire, and many Commoners brought their children there, hoping for admission.
Although Shrek was shabby, its faculty was undeniably impressive—Zhao Wuji and Flender were all Soul Kings or Soul Emperors. Additionally, nearly all other advanced Soul Master academies only recruited internally, favoring those of noble birth—only Noble Clans and Sects. Once Commoners finished elementary and intermediate Soul Master education, their prospects were limited with nowhere else to go for further advancement.
So naturally, this new academy that didn't care about lineage and only valued talent caught their attention—they had to give it a try.
Most ignored Flender's strict admissions criteria, hoping for a stroke of luck.
In front of Shrek Academy, a long line of hopeful applicants formed.
Flender sat in a chair at the admissions desk, with Zhao Wuji and Li Yusong standing like loyal guards on either side of him.
A Commoner parent brought his child forward. Flender pointed to the donation box and said, "Pay first—ten gold soul coins."
"Yes, yes," the parent said, dropping ten gold soul coins into the box—three years of family savings. But it was worth it if it meant a future for his son.
"Activate your Martial Soul. Extend your hand," Flender said while watching the coins drop.
The child obediently activated his Wind Wolf Martial Soul, with two soul rings circling his body—21st level. Flender held the child's hand and said, "Bone age: 13."
"My son's not bad, right? Both soul rings are hundred-year ones—I hired a professional soul hunting team for them. What do you think?" the parent said with a fawning smile.
Flender said nothing, just pointed to the left. "Stand over there. We'll announce results later. Next."
The parent had no choice but to take his child to the designated spot.
The next family stepped forward. Their child was 12, with 18 levels of soul power. His first soul ring was only ten years old. Flender still had them pay before also directing them to the same spot.
The line slowly shrank. More and more people were directed to the left. Occasionally, a prodigy under 12 with over 20 soul power would appear, and Flender would have them stand on the right.
This created a noticeable divide. Those on the left grew anxious. One parent couldn't help asking, "So… are we in or not? Could you tell us?"
Zhao Wuji, looking fierce, growled, "Silence! Don't make me lose my temper. Don't disturb the dean. Wait for the results."
Finally, after enduring the blistering heat all day, the evaluations were complete by sunset.
Flender stretched, then pointed to the small group on the right. "You have passed the first round of the assessment."
Then he turned to those on the left and said, "As for the rest of you—sorry, you've been eliminated."
As soon as Flender announced the result, the crowd instantly erupted into chaos.
"What? We waited so long just to hear that we've been eliminated?"
"This isn't right! Why should my son and I have to wait from morning till night only to be told he's been rejected?"
"My son has two century-old spirit rings! Why was he eliminated?"
"Refund our money! Since we've been rejected, give us our money back. Return my ten gold soul coins!"
At that moment, a burly Commoner reached for the money box to take back his registration fee. Seeing this, the others were also tempted—after all, that box held everyone's registration money.
Just as the crowd was about to rush forward to retrieve their money, Flender adjusted his glasses and subtly signaled to Zhao Wuji. Zhao Wuji got the message and grabbed the burly man's hand, forcefully flinging him away.
The man landed face-first like a dog eating dirt. Furious, he activated his martial spirit, and a silverback gorilla spirit appeared behind him, surrounded by four spirit rings—white, yellow, yellow, and yellow.
He beat his chest with his fists and charged at Zhao Wuji.
Zhao Wuji, upon seeing the man's spirit rings, broke into a confident smile. He activated his own martial spirit: the Vigorous Vajra Bear roared behind him. His six spirit rings—yellow, yellow, purple, purple, black, black—showed a perfect configuration. At Spirit Emperor rank, level 62, his power was fully on display. Zhao Wuji casually caught the man's fist, twisted it, and snapped his arm. The man screamed in pain.
Like tossing out trash, Zhao Wuji threw the man aside, then turned to the others still eyeing the money box with a sinister grin.
"Anyone else who wants to try, go ahead. That guy's what awaits you."
Zhao Wuji's threat instantly silenced the crowd. They were Commoners after all—though they possessed innate spirit power and could become Spirit Masters, they lacked background and resources. How many of them could ever reach the top? Zhao Wuji's powerful spirit ring configuration and level were enough to intimidate everyone present.
"Alright, what are you still staring at? If you're eliminated, then get the hell out!" Zhao Wuji said.
"But… couldn't you at least refund our ten gold soul coins?" said an elderly Commoner.
"Yes, yes! That money is all our family's savings from the past few years," another added.
The eliminated Commoners didn't want to lose their money for nothing and began to play the sympathy card.
Zhao Wuji scratched his ear. "What? Ten gold soul coins? I don't know what you're talking about."
Flender stood up and addressed the crowd, "Fellow townsfolk, the admissions signboard clearly states the rules. Didn't you read it?"
He pointed to the admissions board, where it read:
Shrek Academy Admissions Requirements: Candidates must be 12 years old or younger, with spirit power above level 20.
Then his finger moved to a small line below:
Shrek Academy tuition: 10 gold soul coins.
Once paid, regardless of whether the applicant passes, the fee is non-refundable.
The font was so small that you wouldn't notice it unless you looked closely.
"Shrek is a kind of monster—an extremely bizarre one even among spirit beasts. Our Shrek Academy is a monster academy, meaning we only accept monsters, not ordinary people. Anyone over 13 years old or with spirit power below level 21 won't be accepted."
"You didn't read the Shrek admissions requirements properly before applying? We've already made it clear—registration fees are non-refundable no matter the result," Flender said.
Upon hearing this, some of the people, in pain and frustration, gave up on getting their money back and left.
Others, however, remained, staring longingly at the money box.
"Please, sir… those ten gold soul coins mean everything to our family. We scraped them together so our child could attend school," one pleaded.
"We're withdrawing from the application. Just please return our money. I'll even get on my knees," an old man said.
To a Noble Clans or Sects, ten gold soul coins were nothing—perhaps the cost of a dessert after a meal. But to someone who had just moved up from the Shudra class to Commoner, it was a significant sum. No one wanted to lose that money for nothing.
Seeing that they still refused to leave and continued begging, Flender gave Zhao Wuji another signal. Zhao Wuji grinned viciously, grabbed a stick, and said,
"Not leaving, huh?"
He charged into the crowd, not even activating his spirit, and simply used his brute strength to beat them with the stick—elderly men in their sixties, kids barely twelve, no one was spared. The Commoners howled in pain and scattered in all directions.
There was nothing they could do. They had to swallow the bitter loss of their ten gold soul coins. Reporting to the authorities? Impossible.
The teachers of Shrek Academy were Spirit Kings and Spirit Emperors. In a backwater place like Balak Kingdom, they were big shots.
If they were willing to serve the royal family, they'd immediately be granted a noble title and become Sects. Reporting them would only make the authorities eager to curry favor with Shrek's teachers.
Thus, through this admissions event, Flender happily pocketed not only a few reasonably talented "monsters," but also a hefty amount from a bunch of gullible fools.
Of course, this kind of scam couldn't last forever. But human beings are hopeful by nature, and every year there were always some poor souls who came hoping to get lucky.
Fortunately, Flender, having some foresight, used that money to invest in properties to keep the Shrek Academy running—though inevitably, shady tactics were part of the business model.
As for the successful applicants, not only did they not see anything wrong with Shrek Academy's behavior, they believed it was entirely justified. After all, "I'm not ordinary. I'm a monster. Why should monsters be compared to regular people?"
Shrek successfully instilled a deep sense of superiority in those who were accepted, making them proud to be called monsters—willing to defend that identity fiercely.
Of course, these newly accepted Commoners had no idea that many more pitfalls awaited them inside the Shrek Academy.
For example, aside from a few soul masters with decent strength, Shrek Academy couldn't even provide basic mimetic cultivation resources for students.
The makeshift teachers had just started teaching and lacked experience. This led to some students—who were originally exceptionally talented—progressing too slowly and failing to reach the Soul Ancestor level by graduation, resulting in their expulsion from Shrek.
These expelled students weren't unmotivated or lazy. The real problem lay with Shrek Academy itself.
To shift the blame away from the school and onto the students, Flender came up with a line:
"Our Shrek Academy cultivates monsters, not trash. If you're not at level 41, don't claim to be one of us. We Shrek teachers can't afford that shame."
Thus, those who successfully graduated were separated from those who didn't. The graduates, carrying the glory of being "monsters" and Flender's carefully crafted sense of superiority, strutted out proudly. Wherever they went, they boasted, "I'm from Shrek," completely ignoring the looks of bewilderment or ridicule from others.
Meanwhile, those who failed to graduate could only swallow their bitterness in silence. Why? Because they had seen what happened to a student who tried to protest—Zhao Wuji beat him until he screamed in pain.
And so, the years passed at Shrek. Eventually, in the academy's third year, it encountered a major crisis.
Before introducing this crisis, let's first explain how Shrek trained students without having proper infrastructure.
Flender's training relied on high-intensity drills and real combat.
As a result, Shrek students were frequently taken to the Soul Arena in Soto City to engage in actual fights. Flender even coined a slogan to support his "monster" theory:
"If you don't cause trouble, you're a nobody."
(Originally: "If no one envies you, you're a nobody.")
Shrek followed this motto, constantly provoking other soul masters, bullying the weak while avoiding the strong. Of course, not every provocation went smoothly; occasionally, they picked fights with opponents who were more than they could handle.
But the most dangerous times came during soul beast hunts. During these, teachers would supervise nearby while students engaged in direct melee combat with soul beasts.
However, not every student was a cheat-like prodigy like Tang San. In life-and-death battles like these, accidents were bound to happen.
On a bright and sunny summer day, Zhao Wuji took three students to the Star Dou Forest for a soul hunt. They left with three students, but returned with one crippled and the rest in coffins covered in white cloth.
Flender, upon seeing the dead students, furiously pointed at Zhao Wuji and yelled:
"How exactly are you training these students?!"
Zhao Wuji responded in pain:
"I'm sorry, Headmaster. Before entering the forest, I drank a little… got a bit fuzzy-headed, and then…"
"You—you—you… What can I even say to you?"
"It's all my fault. I request to step down as a combat instructor at Shrek to atone for the students who were crippled or killed due to my negligence," Zhao Wuji said.
Flender angrily retorted:
"You think stepping down solves this? The real problem is the parents!"
This became Shrek Academy's first major crisis, with parents storming in after hearing the news of their children's deaths.
These weren't ordinary kids. Every student accepted into Shrek had to be at least 12 years old and over level 20 in soul power—talents that even noble Noble Clans clans would treasure. For these Commoner families, these children represented the future—their one shot at climbing the social ladder.
Their deaths meant the destruction of their families' hopes. The hatred ran deep.
One distraught parent even held a funeral in front of Shrek Academy's gates, demanding answers.
The school's entrance was covered in white ribbons, fluttering funeral papers, a student's portrait, and his coffin—eerie and chilling.
Flender, Zhao Wuji, and the rest were thrown into chaos.
"Damn it! If these people keep making noise, how can we keep running the academy?" Zhao Wuji snapped.
"Sure, I was a bit drunk, but what about your kids? You think they had no issues? We cultivate monsters, not trash! If your son was so useless that a soul beast could kill him, that's on him!"
"Exactly," Flender's eyes lit up at Zhao Wuji's complaint.
He immediately contacted the King of the Balak Kingdom. As a Soul Emperor, Flender still held some sway. He requested the king to help suppress the incident's impact.
Then, Shrek Academy did what it always did best—
Glory goes to Shrek. Blame goes to the students.
It wasn't that the academy failed. It was that your child was trash.
Shrek trains monsters, not weaklings. If your son died fighting a soul beast, that just proves he was weak.
Of course, the grieving parents couldn't accept this and protested even louder.
But with the Balak Kingdom backing Shrek, the academy struck back hard.
Zhao Wuji stormed the funeral, kicked over the coffin, grabbed a thick leather whip, and began beating people indiscriminately—man, woman, young, or old. The grieving crowd screamed in pain.
"Your son got killed by a soul beast, and you're blaming the school?" Zhao Wuji yelled.
"You should reflect on yourself! If your kid wasn't so trash, would this have happened?"
"This is Shrek Academy—a place for monsters—not a playground for you to throw tantrums!"
"But if you had only—"
"Still talking back?"
Before the mother could finish, Zhao Wuji lashed her with the whip, causing her to cry out in agony.
Under the academy's brute force and the Balak Kingdom's suppression, Shrek narrowly escaped this crisis.
This incident also became a core part of Shrek's operational philosophy. Among the next 42 students trained at Shrek, some of the dropouts were students who died from "accidents."
Due to Shrek's brutal methods and a society steeped in class oppression, the Commoner parents who had just barely managed to climb the social ladder could only swallow their grief.
(Why did Shrek treat Tang San and his team like priceless treasures later on? Let's take a look:
Ma Hongjun was Flender's disciple, Oscar was a food-type soul master with innate full soul power.
Beyond those two, Dai Mubai was a prince, Zhu Zhuqing a duke's daughter, Tang San the legitimate son of the Haotian Douluo, and Ning Rongrong from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan.
Every one of them was either Noble Clans or Sects. Whether or not Shrek could afford to offend them wasn't even the point—
Shrek had finally hit the jackpot, forming ties with noble classes. The path to success was in front of them.
How could they not treat them like precious gems? What, you want them to act otherwise and die instead?)