The constant strain took toll quickly. By evening after Thunderclap battle, Leng Xue sat trembling in dormitory, face ghost‑white, frost veins screaming. He pressed hand against chest feeling cracks in spirit channels. Yan knelt worried, tears almost. "Brother, at this pace you will die." Huan scowled restless, "Then let me front wall, not you."
But Xue smiled faint. "Stone cracks. But roots—roots endure season after season. I am wall because frost must be wall. If I fail, Shrek falls."
Tang San entered quietly, overhearing. His gaze deepened. "Your wall is precious. But wall need not stand alone. When barrier forms, my vines must reinforce. If we share load, you do not die so easily."
Leng Xue hesitated—first life, always alone. Second life, clan family. Here in Shrek… perhaps these monsters were clan, too. He nodded solemn. "Then grass may entwine glacier."
Next day training resumed. Shrek now drilled specifically synergy: Xue erects smaller barriers at key angles while Tang San reinforces with vines twining cracks. Fertile cooperation bloomed. Opponents in practice grew frustrated—they found wall and net inseparable.
Teachers approved secretly, Zhao Wuji barking "Better. Monsters protect monsters." Flender only smiled greedy, thinking what coin such spectacle would attract in later rounds.
But privately, Xue scribbled fresh inscription in his Frost Codex: Clan above self, but clan may sometimes be found beyond blood. In Shrek I found new kin. Never fear to let roots intertwine else you wither alone. His trembling hands etched deeper truth of second life.