Hall of Murals, The First Trial
The five characters inscribed above the gate—Shrek Academy—held a legendary, if complicated, weight. To most, they were a sacred relic from the founder's teacher. To Yao Xuan, they were a symbol of a flawed legacy he had no intention of blindly venerating. His gaze passed over them with cool detachment before turning inward. The future he would build here would stand on its own merits.
Outside the ancient walls, a sea of hopefuls churned with nervous energy. Wu Changkong offered a final, firm nod. "Your path is your own now. I will be waiting." He remained outside, a solitary figure anchoring them to their past.
Stepping through the gate was like passing through a membrane. The cacophony of the crowd vanished, replaced by a profound, hallowed silence. Ancient trees lined wide stone pathways, their leaves whispering secrets of millennia. The air itself felt charged with latent power and endless scrutiny.
Following discreet signs, they arrived at a vast plaza, over a kilometer across, paved in weathered gray stone. It was a gallery of history. At its heart stood the original Shrek Seven Devils, frozen in legendary poses. Flanking them were subsequent generations of heroes and the founding Golden Iron Triangle. Each statue was a lesson, a benchmark, a silent demand for greatness.
Their destination loomed ahead: the colossal circular teaching building at the plaza's center. As they approached, a senior student emerged to greet them, her bearing calm and efficient. After verifying their qualification tokens, she led them inside the edifice known as Shrek Hall.
The interior stole the breath away. Vaulted ceilings soared over ten meters high, every surface adorned with intricate, sprawling murals that glowed with subdued light. They depicted epic battles, moments of discovery, and solemn councils—a visual tapestry of 20,000 years of triumph and tragedy.
"The murals chronicle our academy's legacy," their guide said quietly, her voice filled with palpable reverence. "They are both art and history, reminding every student of the weight they may one day carry."
Passing through a grand, domed foyer, they ascended a broad stone staircase and entered a circular hall. Here, their guide stopped, gesturing for them to proceed alone. The heavy doors closed behind them with a soft, final thud.
The atmosphere changed instantly. The air grew dense, pressing down on their shoulders. The mural here was different—dominated not by heroes, but by a terrifying, magnificent beast. A colossal black dragon, its scales like polished obsidian, its eyes burning with malevolent gold, filled the domed ceiling. Its depicted roar seemed to vibrate in the marrow of their bones, unleashing a palpable, savage dragon's might that sought to crush their spirits into the floor.
It was the First Test.
Yao Xuan felt the pressure descend—a weight meant to buckle knees and cloud minds. To him, it was a familiar presence. He recognized the signature within the oppressive aura: a trace, a mere drop, of the Golden-Eyed Black Dragon King, Di Tian. A being who now stood as his respectful subordinate. The mighty pressure parted around him like water around a stone, unwilling to even brush against his sovereign Ancestral Dragon bloodline. He stood immovable, a calm eye in the spiritual storm.
Beside him, Gu Yue's silver hair stirred in the unseen current. A flicker of cold recognition passed through her violet eyes—a subordinate's essence used as a gatekeeper. Her own Silver Dragon King heritage, the complementary half of draconic sovereignty, rose in quiet acknowledgment. The pressure settled on her like a heavy cloak, but she merely adjusted her stance, her gaze steady and clear. After a brief, analytical pause, she exhaled softly, her composure restored.
Tang Wulin grunted, his back straightening. Golden light flickered deep within his pupils. His Golden Dragon King bloodline, though sealed, flared in instinctive, furious challenge to this predatory dominance. His muscles corded, his fists clenched, but he held his ground, trembling slightly from the effort of containing the roaring response within his veins.
Xu Xiaoyan and Xie Xie were not so anchored. The sheer, brutal weight of the aura hit them like a physical blow. Xu Xiaoyan gasped, staggering back a step, her face paling. Xie Xie's eyes widened in shock; his legs buckled, and he would have crumpled had Tang Wulin not shot out a steadying arm to catch him.
Seeing his comrades struggle, Yao Xuan's eyes narrowed. A soft, dismissive sound escaped his lips—not a shout, but a controlled exhalation of command. From his core, a wisp of the Ancestral Dragon's true presence unfurled. It did not attack the mural's aura but formed an invisible, serene dome around Xie Xie and Xu Xiaoyan. Within this pocket of calm, the crushing pressure vanished, allowing them to draw ragged, grateful breaths and find their footing, though fear still lingered in their eyes.
From the shadows of the hall, an old man in simple green robes stepped forward. His eyes, sharp and discerning, studied Yao Xuan with open astonishment.
"Remarkable," the elder murmured, his voice like rustling parchment. "In all my years overseeing this trial, I have never witnessed a candidate not only withstand the King' Pressure unaided but… subdue its very reach for others." His gaze flicked to Gu Yue and Tang Wulin, noting their resilience with approval.
The senior student who had guided them re-entered, bowing slightly. "Elder Li, your assessment?"
Elder Li stroked his beard. "The first test evaluates mental fortitude and spiritual resilience. These three," he indicated Yao Xuan, Gu Yue, and Tang Wulin, "demonstrated exceptional innate strength. Full marks. As for these two," he nodded to Xu Xiaoyan and Xie Xie, "they faced their limit. Yet, the support of a companion is also a form of strength in our halls. Nine points, and eight points."
Yao Xuan led his group in a respectful bow. "Thank you for your guidance, Elder Li."
A faint smile touched the old man's lips. "Polite, powerful, and protective. A promising combination. Do not waste it. Proceed."
As the student guide led them deeper into Shrek Hall, towards the next unknown trial, the group's dynamic had subtly shifted. The test had not just measured their individual power; it had showcased the bonds between them—Yao Xuan's silent, sovereign protection, Tang Wulin's ready support, and their shared will to advance as one. The true examination of Shrek Academy, it seemed, had already begun.