The day after the ceremony arrived without mercy.
Heaven Dou City was still dressed like a festival—steamers across stone bridges, stalls selling sweets and skewers, children waving pennants—but everyone's eyes kept drifting toward one place.
The arena.
Inside Shrek assigned preparation wing, Team One and Team Two moved like two different storms.
Team One stood in order, voices low, breathing controlled—Yu Xiaogang's structure made flesh. Dai Mubai checked his gloves, jaw tight. Tang San eyes were calm, focused, already running through patterns and counters in silence.
Team Two looked looser, but only on the surface.
They weren't just relaxing.
They were calibrating.
Li Wei leaned against the corridor railing, hands behind his back, gaze tilted toward the arena entrance where the light spilled in. Somewhere beyond those walls, Spirit Hall seats gleamed white and gold.
He didn't hate Spirit Hall. He had lived under its roof, trained under its banners, and carried its weight like a second spine since childhood.
But Spirit Hall was not of one mind.
It was a city of faith… and a maze of knives.
Ning Rongrong stepped beside him, voice quiet. "They'll be watching you today even if you don't fight."
Li Wei didn't deny it. "Then I won't give them anything they can easily use."
Xiao Wu bounced once, rolling her shoulders. "If they're watching, we should do something cool."
Zhu Zhuqing reply was soft and sharp. "The more outstanding someone, they will be more likely to be targeted."
Oscar sighed dramatically. "So basically, don't be just cool, be more terrifying."
Meng Yiran smirked. "That's his specialty."
Ma Hongjun muttered, "Can we just skip to the part where we win and eat?"
Li Wei mouth twitched—not quite a smile. "Watch. Learn. Then counter it."
Because today wasn't Team Two battle.
It was Team One opening test.
A staff member opened the gate to the waiting corridor. The announcer's amplified voice rolled through the stone like thunder.
"First match of the Continental Advanced Spirit Master Academy Elite Tournament—Shrek Academy Team One versus Blue Wind Academy!"
The crowd erupted.
Team One stepped out.
Forest green and gold—clean lines, steady pace, no wasted movement. Dai Mubai led as captain, presence heavy as iron. Tang San moved just behind and beside him—not the loudest, not the flashiest, but the center of gravity. Around them stood Tai Long brawler strength, Huang Yuan wolfish assault, Jing Ling finisher stillness, Jiang Zhu healer calm, and the last member—taller than the others, shoulders squared, eyes steady.
He Ming.
His Tyrant Shield Tortoise spirit pressure didn't flare like a flame.
It settled like a wall.
Blue Wind Academy entered in cobalt and silver, their formation tight and practiced. Their captain stood at the center like a blade held perfectly still.
The referee raised a hand.
"Begin!"
Blue Wind struck first.
Wind pressure rolled across the arena floor—dust lifting, clothing tugging, breath catching. It wasn't just air moving. It was spirit power shaped into dominance.
Tang San first spirit ring lit.
Blue Silver Grass surged forward, spreading across stone like a living net.
Binding.
Vines snaked toward Blue Wind front line, aiming for ankles, aiming for rhythm, aiming to steal the first step.
Blue Wind captain's martial spirit ignited—a falcon of pale azure light, wings unfolding wide enough to make the crowd gasp.
Wind sharpened.
Not a gust—an edge.
His first ring flashed.
A compressed arc of wind sliced forward and cut open a lane through the vines—not destroying them completely, but carving space.
Tai Long moved.
Not with finesse.
With certainty.
He drove forward like a boulder, forcing Blue Wind left attacker to retreat.
Dai Mubai followed, spirit power rising.
White Tiger Shield Body.
His aura slammed outward, stabilizing Team One formation against the wind pressure.
Blue Wind tried to pivot—two flankers moved wide, aiming not for Dai Mubai, not for Tang San, but for the rear.
For Jiang Zhu.
The healer.
Tang San eyes narrowed.
His second spirit ring flashed.
Parasite.
Blue Silver Grass split, thin vines launching like needles toward one flanker shoulder. The moment they latched, growth spread—stealing momentum, disrupting movement, forcing the attacker breath to hitch and stumble.
But Blue Wind was disciplined. The other flanker didn't panic. He pushed harder, wind blades forming along his arms, cutting forward in rapid crescents.
Jiang Zhu didn't move.
He Ming did.
His first spirit ring ignited.
Tyrant Shell.
A heavy shell aura wrapped his body. He stepped into the path between Jiang Zhu and the oncoming blades as if stepping into rain.
Wind crescents struck his defense and splintered into harmless gusts.
The crowd roared at the blunt refusal.
He Ming second ring flashed.
Shield Bash.
He lunged, forearm-shield slamming forward with crushing force. The flanker was thrown back, boots carving a line in the stone.
Huang Yuan and Jing Ling slipped in like predators sensing exposed throat—one attacking from the left, one from the blind angle.
Blue Wind formation tightened under pressure.
Dai Mubai saw the opening.
His second ring flared.
White Tiger Enhancement.
He surged straight for the center.
Blue Wind captain didn't retreat.
His second ring ignited.
A wind spear formed—compressed, screaming, needle-sharp—and shot toward Dai Mubai's chest.
Dai Mubai crossed his arms, barrier flaring.
The wind spear struck.
The barrier shuddered—held—then cracked.
Dai Mubai slid back half a step, boots grinding stone, blood creeping at the corner of his mouth.
But he didn't fall.
He grinned like a beast remembering its name.
Tang San third ring glowed darker.
Spider Web Restrain.
A dense web of spirit-silk erupted from Blue Silver Grass, snapping forward like a net thrown by a hunter who knew exactly where the prey would dodge.
Blue Wind captain twisted his body.
The web caught his leg.
Not fully.
Just enough.
Dai Mubai third ring ignited.
White Tiger Vajra Transformation.
His aura thickened, muscles surging, presence turning into a crushing weight.
Tai Long hit the front line again—brawler strength exploding, forcing Blue Wind defenders to brace.
Huang Yuan wolf spirit pressure bit into their cohesion.
Jing Ling moved like a finishing strike waiting for a heartbeat.
He Ming stayed planted, anchoring.
Jiang Zhu raised her scepter, healing light ready but unused—because Team One was still holding.
From Shrek waiting wing, Team Two watched.
Oscar whistled low. "That's nasty."
Meng Yiran eyes narrowed. "Blue Wind captain isn't done."
Li Wei gaze didn't leave the field. "He isn't."
Because the wind around the trapped captain began to change.
Not louder.
Not stronger.
It becoming sharper.
His fourth ring started to shimmer.
The falcon behind him spread its wings.
And the air itself screamed like steel being drawn.
Tang San eyes narrowed.
Dai Mubai grin widened.
And for the first time, the crowd felt it—
This wasn't jus a warm-up match.
This was also a warning to the others.