Day three came merciless. Shrek faced Phantom Wind Academy, famed for speed types vanishing on sight. From first breath, gusts slashed arena, figures blurred. Even Tang San struggled locking them. Audience leaned forward excited—could frost slow wind?
Leng Xue centered early. Veil expanded broad as possible, air chilling against rushing figures. Spectators gasped as blurs visibly slowed passing near mist, outlines clearer. Phantom students grew frustrated instantly, steps misthreading on glazed stone.
But speed types cunning. They isolated him, strikes darting repeatedly, claws stabbing his ribs. Blood welled across mouth. Still he stood, expanding veil stubborn. I held against wolves, bandits, nobles—wind too will smother.
Tang San yelled desperate, vines coiling shield, but Xue shook head: "Attack! Let me anchor." Barrier flared again jagged, freezing two phantoms mid‑charge, allowing Mubai to crush them, Hongjun blast others.
Final minutes blurred; victory achieved narrowly—but Leng Xue collapsed unconscious after barrier dissolve. Crowd roared at display, students horrified to see him sprawled.
Carried from arena, Flender muttered worried but calculating. "Without frost, no chance. But if frost breaks too fast, we fall." Tang San stayed by bedside, whispering, "Rest. You are wall we all lean."
Xue drifted in fever, Tome glowing, whispering: Path diverges. Overstrain tears root. Choice soon: preserve self or overgive for clan.
Still, even half‑dying, a smile played lips. This life he was no longer useless. Entire monster team leaned on frost.