The morning sun cast a weak, watery light over the Shrek Academy training grounds. A chilly breeze swept across the field, carrying with it the scent of fresh sawdust from the ongoing construction and the faint, underlying tension of a group divided.
At the center of the field stood the self-proclaimed Grandmaster, Yu Xiaogang, his arms crossed, his expression a familiar mask of stiff impatience. Before him stood the five students who had remained under his tutelage: Tang San, Xiao Wu, Dai Mubai, Oscar, and Ma Hongjun. They were all present, their bodies aching from the previous day's brutal physical conditioning, their minds weary from the monotonous routine. They were waiting.
The Grandmaster's cold, analytical gaze kept flickering towards the pathway leading from the dormitories, a flicker of annoyance marring his otherwise impassive face.
"Where is Zhuqing?" he asked, his voice a flat, clipped monotone directed at no one in particular. "Punctuality is the most basic form of discipline. If she is late, she will face additional training."
Dai Mubai shifted his weight, a scowl on his handsome, sullen face. He knew why she was late. She was likely with him. The thought was a bitter pill he would be most likely forced to swallow every single day.
Just as Yu Xiaogang was about to make another pronouncement on the importance of discipline, three figures emerged from the direction of the new, luxurious living quarters. It was Zhang Tian and Ning Rongrong, walking in a comfortable, easy companionship, and beside them, her steps sure and her expression resolute, was Zhu Zhuqing.
The arrival of the trio immediately drew all eyes. The Shrek Five stared, a mixture of envy, curiosity, and resentment on their faces. They saw the easy camaraderie between the three, a bond forged not through forced punishments but through mutual respect and shared goals. It was a world away from their own tense dynamic.
Zhu Zhuqing walked straight up to the waiting group. She bypassed her resentful fiancé without a second glance and stopped directly before Yu Xiaogang. She performed a deep, formal bow, her movements precise and respectful.
"Grandmaster," she began, her voice as cool and clear as a winter morning. "I would like to thank you for your guidance and training over this past week."
Yu Xiaogang gave a stiff nod, assuming this was merely a prelude to an apology for her tardiness. "Punctuality is a virtue you would do well to cultivate, Zhuqing," he said, his tone that of a teacher preparing to deliver a lecture.
"I understand," she replied, straightening up. Her next words, however, were not an apology. They were a declaration. "I am here to inform you that, starting from today, I wish to formally withdraw from your special training."
The statement landed with the force of a physical blow. A stunned silence descended upon the field.
Tang San and Xiao Wu stared at her, their mouths slightly agape. Oscar's jaw dropped. Ma Hongjun stopped picking his nose, his beady eyes wide with shock.
Yu Xiaogang's face, which had been a mask of impassive authority, twitched. A deep, ugly frown marred his features. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.
Zhu Zhuqing met his gaze without flinching. "I wish to train with my friends, Rongrong and Zhang Tian," she stated simply, her use of their familiar names a clear indication of her allegiance. "Their methods are more suitable for my development."
She paused, then delivered the final, killing blow. "Furthermore," she added, her voice dropping to a glacial coldness as her eyes flickered with contempt towards the stunned prince, "I have no desire to participate in any training that requires me to cooperate with Dai Mubai. It is… distasteful to me."
The word 'distasteful' was a dagger twisted in Dai Mubai's already wounded pride. A wave of profound, public humiliation washed over him. His fiancée was rejecting him, abandoning the team, and siding with the very man who had crushed him, all in front of everyone. He wanted to roar, to shout, to challenge her, but then he felt it. A calm, heavy gaze from across the field.
Zhang Tian was watching him. His blue eyes were placid, but they carried an unspoken promise. A promise of more pain, more humiliation, if he dared to open his mouth. Dai Mubai's rage was instantly extinguished by a chilling wave of fear. He clamped his jaw shut, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, a silent, impotent statue of fury.
Yu Xiaogang's face had turned an ugly shade of puce. This was not just insubordination; it was a complete and utter rejection of his wisdom, his authority, his entire philosophy. First, it was Zhang Tian, a boy he had dismissed as a reckless anomaly. Then it was Ning Rongrong, a spoiled princess whose defiance he could write off as childish petulance. But now, it was Zhu Zhuqing. A quiet, hardworking yet talented student.
Her departure was a vote of no confidence. It was a declaration to everyone present that his methods were not just being questioned; they were being abandoned.
"You have made your decision," Yu Xiaogang finally said, his voice tight with suppressed rage. He stared at the three of them—the boy with the impossible grass, the heiress with the boundless resources, and the cold beauty with the warrior's spirit. A rogue faction. His perfect, controllable team was fractured.
"Fine," he spat, his professional mask completely gone, replaced by raw, wounded pride. "Go. Follow your friend and his 'suitable' methods. But you had better not regret this decision, Zhu Zhuqing. When you find yourself left behind, your progress stagnating while your former teammates soar to new heights under my guidance, do not come crawling back."
His threat hung empty in the air. Zhang Tian just offered a faint, dismissive smile. Ning Rongrong rolled her eyes. And Zhu Zhuqing simply turned her back on him.
Without another word, the trio walked away, leaving behind a furious Grandmaster and a group of stunned, confused students. The schism was now complete. Shrek Academy was now home to two separate, rival teams.
In their secluded clearing, a new era of training began.
"Your situation is different from Rongrong's," Zhang Tian explained as he stood before Zhu Zhuqing. The sun filtered through the leaves, dappling the ground in shifting patterns of light and shadow. "Rongrong is a support master. Her primary need is evasion and survival. You are an agility-type power attacker. You are the predator. Your role is to close the distance and deliver a decisive blow. For that, you need more than just speed."
He looked at her seriously. "Speed without strength is just motion. You will be a blur that annoys your opponent, not one that ends them. We need to build your explosive power, the strength behind your claws."
He gestured to a series of strange, metallic contraptions that had been set up in the clearing. They were intricate devices, a collection of spinning arms, pop-up targets, and weighted levers, all forged from dark, heavy steel. These were the mechanical training drills he had designed, brought to life by the master craftsmen of the Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Sect. He couldn't afford to expend his spirit power constantly creating and maintaining two separate, complex courses with his Blood Silver Grass. Ning Rongrong's shifting vine maze was already pushing his limits of fine control. For Zhu Zhuqing, a more permanent, more physically demanding solution was required.
"This is your new playground," he announced. "It is designed to train three things simultaneously: your agility, your reaction speed, and your striking power."
Her first drill began. A series of padded targets, moving on unpredictable tracks, would pop up. Her job was to strike them with her claws. But at the same time, weighted, swinging arms would lash out, forcing her to duck and weave. To hit a target, she had to first evade an attack. And the targets were not simple pads. They were reinforced, requiring a significant amount of force to register a 'hit'.
"Don't just tap it!" he called out as she dodged a swinging metal arm and landed a light, glancing blow on a moving target. "Destroy it! Channel your spirit power into your claws! Focus the force on a single point! Again!"
Her training was a brutal ballet of violence and grace. She flowed through the mechanical maze, her black clothes a blur, the sharp thwack of her claws striking the targets echoing through the clearing. It was a high-intensity, anaerobic workout that pushed her muscles to their absolute limit.
While she trained her body, he also trained her mind. He designed a different course for her dynamic vision. She would have to run at her top speed through a straight, narrow corridor of flashing lights. Different colored lights would flash in complex patterns, and she would have to call them out as she ran. It trained her brain to process information at incredible speeds, to see details in a blur of motion. It was the predator's equivalent of Ning Rongrong's observation training.
The days settled into a new, intense rhythm. Physical conditioning was scheduled three times a week for Zhang Tian and Zhu Zhuqing, their bodies more accustomed to a rigorous regimen. For Ning Rongrong, it remained twice a week, giving her more time to recover.
On the days they didn't focus on physical training, their attention turned to the mastery of their own power.
For Ning Rongrong, the slow, methodical process of punching rocks continued. It was a strange sight, the delicate princess of a great sect, her small fists glowing with a faint light, diligently striking a stone over and over again. After two weeks of this strange practice, Zhang Tian deemed her ready for the next stage.
"Alright, Rongrong," he said one afternoon. "Your control is getting better. You can consistently reinforce your hands without injuring them. Now, we make it reactive."
He turned to Zhu Zhuqing. "Zhuqing, your task is simple. You will attack Rongrong. Use your hand, not your claws. Your attacks should be random, unpredictable. Aim for her arms, her legs, her shoulders. Your goal is to touch her before she can reinforce that spot with her spirit power."
Ning Rongrong paled. "He wants you to hit me?!"
Zhu Zhuqing hesitated, looking at Ning Rongrong's delicate frame. But Zhang Tian's expression was serious. "Don't hold back too much, Zhuqing. This is crucial. Rongrong, this isn't about dodging. It's about reaction. Feel her intent, see her movement, and flood that part of your body with spirit power to create a shield. It has to be instantaneous."
Their first session was a series of yelps and frustrated groans from Ning Rongrong. Zhu Zhuqing's movements were too fast, too sudden. She was constantly being tapped on the shoulder, the arm, the back of her knee, before she could even begin to muster her spirit power.
Zhu Zhuqing, watching this, was once again stunned. 'This… this is what he meant. He's actually teaching a support master how to defend herself with her own spirit power. Not with a spirit ring ability as that is impossible for Support Type Spirit Master, but with pure control. He's teaching her how to fight. If she masters this, she could become an anomaly among the Support-Type Spirit Masters in the entire world. The idea is… revolutionary.'
It was a hard, frustrating process. But slowly, over the next two weeks, Ning Rongrong began to improve. The yelps became fewer. The frantic, failed attempts to form a shield became quicker, more instinctive. She wasn't blocking every hit, not even half of them, but she was starting to succeed. It was a messy, imperfect defense, but it was a defense nonetheless.
For Zhu Zhuqing, the spirit control training was different. Zhang Tian saw the immense potential in her Hell Civet spirit. It wasn't just about speed; it was about the fluid, deadly grace of a feline predator.
"Your family has taught you how to use your spirit abilities properly, but they haven't taught you how to truly use your spirit," he told her as they sat together. "Your body is a weapon. Your speed is a weapon. Your claws are a weapon. You don't always need a spirit ring ability to unleash deadly attacks to your opponents."
He began to work with her, discussing ideas, sketching out movements. He helped her develop a series of self-created spirit skills, combos that flowed together seamlessly, requiring minimal spirit power but maximizing her natural advantages.
There was the 'Phantom Pounce,' a burst of speed into a multi-hit aerial attack.
The 'Silent Shadow Step,' a variation on her evasive movements that allowed her to change direction mid-sprint without losing momentum.
The 'Reaping Claw Dance,' a spinning, whirlwind attack that turned her into a vortex of shredding claws, perfect for dealing with multiple opponents.
He wasn't just teaching her; he was collaborating with her. He would propose an idea, and she, with her innate understanding of her own spirit, would refine it, adapt it, make it her own. It was a partnership that was rapidly forging her into a far more versatile and deadly fighter.
Once a week, their training culminated in a spar. Zhang Tian versus a fully-buffed Zhu Zhuqing. Ning Rongrong would stand at the side, her Seven Treasure Glaze Tile Pagoda shimmering as she poured her support into her friend. With a thirty percent boost to her strength and agility, Zhu Zhuqing was a terror.
Her speed became blinding, her strikes powerful enough to leave deep gashes in Zhang Tian's crimson shields. The first time they sparred, Zhang Tian was genuinely surprised by her ferocity and had to focus completely to defend against her relentless assault.
She was learning. She no longer attacked in straight, predictable lines. She would feint, she would use the environment, she would probe his defenses looking for a weakness before committing to an all-out attack. She was fighting intelligently, a far cry from the straightforward charges of Dai Mubai.
He still won every spar, his control and versatility too great for her to overcome. But the gap was closing. He could feel it. 'With Rongrong's support, she's already a significant threat,' he thought after one particularly intense spar. 'In a few more months, after her next spirit ring… she will be a truly difficult opponent. She's growing at a terrifying rate.'
The month passed in a blur of sweat, effort, and tangible progress. Fueled by the nutrient-rich food and their diligent cultivation in the new simulation fields—Rongrong in the gem field, Zhuqing in the dark field—their spirit ranks soared. Ning Rongrong, who had started at Level 26, broke through to Level 27. Zhu Zhuqing, more impressively, went from Level 27 to Level 28.
Zhang Tian's own progress was hidden but no less profound. His nightly cultivation, amplified by the Blood Silver Domain, was a torrent of power. His spirit rank remained at 27, but the quality of his spirit power was on another level entirely. He was a lake being filled to the brim, the pressure building, ready to burst forth.
Throughout this month of intense training, he was patient. He was waiting.
He knew Tang Hao was watching, a silent, sorrowful guardian in the woods. But a man filled with such grief could not remain stationary forever. Sooner or later, nostalgia, or perhaps suspicion, would call him away.
And one afternoon, it happened.
Through his domain, Zhang Tian felt the oppressive weight of the Titled Douluo's presence lift from the academy grounds. It moved away, heading east, towards the distant mountains.
'He's gone,' Zhang Tian thought, a cold, predatory light entering his eyes. 'Has he finally gone to check the cave? To visit his dear wife? Good. He is about to receive a very nasty surprise. But his absence is my opportunity.'
The time had come.
That night, as the rest of the academy slept, Zhang Tian sat cross-legged on his bed. He closed his eyes and entered the ruby-red expanse of his Spiritual Sea. Ah Yin floated before him, her crimson form radiant and serene.
"Ah Yin," he began, his mental voice calm and direct. "Do you remember the promise you made to me a month ago?You said you would do anything I asked."
Her garnet eyes softened. After a few months of living in his mind, of witnessing his dedication, his intelligence, and his kindness towards his friends, her trust in him was absolute. She knew he was not a man who would make a degenerate request.
"I remember, Zhang Tian," she replied, her voice a gentle melody. "What is it you require?"
He met her gaze, his expression serious. "Your son, Tang San," he said slowly. "His special techniques. The internal cultivation skill for spirit power, the one for mental force, the strange footwork, the hand-hardening skill, the grappling methods. They are remarkable. I wish to learn them."
Ah Yin nodded. She had been deeply impressed by these strange, powerful skills herself. She still had no idea where her son had acquired them, but their efficacy was undeniable. "I understand," she said. "But how can I help you? I do not know these techniques."
"I have already copied the basic pathways of the skills he uses most often," Zhang Tian explained. "But I need the complete scriptures. The full theoretical foundation. And I suspect he has more techniques, more secrets, hidden away in his mind. Secrets I need."
He took a deep breath. "I need you to use your powerful mental force, combined with my own, to help me do something very dangerous. I need your help to peer into his memories." He quickly added, "I have no interest in his personal life, his privacy. I only wish to see the memories that contain these techniques."
His request was logical. It was a means to an end, a way for him to grow stronger, which in turn served their shared goal of uplifting her clan.
And it was something Ah Yin knew she could do. The bond between herself and the royal bloodline her son possessed was a powerful, mystical connection. It was a doorway into the very essence of his soul.
"I will help you," she agreed without hesitation. "But in return, you must promise me one more thing. After you have what you need, you must forgive him once and not harm him even if he does something against you."
"You have my word," Zhang Tian agreed instantly.
With the deal struck, Ah Yin closed her eyes. Her powerful, crimson mental force surged, flowing out of Zhang Tian's spiritual sea. It followed the invisible, ethereal thread of the bloodline connection, a thread that stretched across the academy grounds to a different room where Tang San slept peacefully. Well, it was only recently that Tang San was assigned a seperate room from Zhang Tian since the rift between Zhang Tian and Yu Xiaogang and Tang San had widened considerably.
Her consciousness slipped through that doorway, a ghost in the machine of her son's mind. She entered his spiritual sea, and there, she began to read his memories.
She saw his past. A world of towering pagodas and intricate courtyards. A sect dedicated to hidden weapons and poisons. A man named Tang San, a genius, but a thief, stealing the forbidden knowledge of his own clan. She saw his final moments, pursued to a cliff's edge, his leap of faith into the abyss.
And then, she saw the most horrifying truth of all.
She saw his soul, a shimmering point of light, travel through a void and arrive in a new world. She saw it descend upon a newborn baby, her baby, her little San. And she watched in pure, unadulterated horror as the foreign soul, this otherworldly intruder, mercilessly extinguished the faint, flickering light of her true son's nascent soul, consuming it, possessing his body.
The man in her son's body was not her son. He was a murderer. An imposter.
Her serene, maternal love, the core of her being for the past month, shattered into a million pieces, replaced by a volcanic, white-hot rage that threatened to incinerate her very soul.
She ripped through his memories with a cold, merciless fury. She saw his entire life in the Holy Spirit Village, his life with her husband who had become a drunk, his sanctimonious theft of Zhang Tian's herbs. She saw his obsession with rebuilding his 'Tang Sect', his budding romance with the little girl Xiao Wu, his jealousy of Zhang Tian, his simmering desire to eliminate this rival, Zhang Tian, who stood in the way of his teacher's plans.
When she had seen everything, she tore her consciousness away and returned to Zhang Tian's Spiritual Sea.
He saw her then, and was startled by the transformation. Her crimson form was no longer serene. It was blazing, vibrating with a rage so profound it made his own spiritual sea tremble. Her garnet eyes were no longer soft; they were burning coals of pure, murderous hatred.
"Zhang Tian!" her voice was no longer a melody; it was the shriek of a vengeful goddess. "Kill him! Kill that imposter! That creature is not my son! He murdered my child and stole his body! If you will not do it, I will do it myself! I will burn his soul from the inside out!"
Zhang Tian feigned a look of profound shock. "Ah Yin! What is it? What did you see? Explain!"
She didn't need to be asked twice. A torrent of mental images flooded his mind. She told him everything. The past life, the soul-murder, the hypocrisy, the murderous intent.
And with the images came a treasure trove of information.
The complete scripture of the Mysterious Heaven Skill, from the first level to the Ninth level.
All the techniques in the Mysterious Heaven Treasure Record.
The detailed blueprints and forging methods for every hidden weapon in the Tang Sect's arsenal, from the simplest throwing needle to the top three legendary Tang Sect's secret weapons.
Tang San's memories also contained a comprehensive encyclopedia of herbs and poisons, and the alchemy methods to create pills of miraculous and deadly effect.
It was an inheritance of knowledge so vast, so profound, it was worth more than any empire.
He absorbed it all, his mind cataloging every detail. The gains were beyond anything he could have imagined. He no longer needed the Breaking Clan's knowledge so urgently, though he would still take it. The more knowledge, the better.
He looked at the enraged empress before him. He had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. He had not just turned her against the protagonist; he had given her a reason to want him dead.
This was a victory. A complete and utter victory. The game had changed. And he was now holding all the cards.
~~
A/N: Check out my other novels like "Harem Master: Seduction System" and the "Villain: Manipulating the Heroines into hating the Protagonist" and I hope you like this story and those stories as well.
Check out more chapters on my P.atreon. The P.atreon will have 20+ Chapters ahead for this story. I hope you like it.
The link of p.atreon is: bit.ly/evildragon