One year after.
The wind howled across the ruined forest.
What had once been a grove of towering silverleaf trees, their branches whispering with gentle spirit energy, was now a grave of splintered roots and scorched earth. The air held a strange heaviness, as if the world had forgotten how to breathe properly in this place. A low, constant hum—like the distant echo of a battlefield—lingered just beneath the silence.
At the heart of this devastation lay the Silent Rift.
A jagged crater nearly fifty meters wide, its depths swallowed by a swirling gray mist that resisted all attempts to penetrate. Around it stood a circular wall of thick iron, enchanted with dozens of barrier arrays etched in Spirit Hall unmistakable silver-gold script. Banners bearing the twin snake insignia fluttered in the wind, their edges frayed from a year of ceaseless exposure.
Three Spirit Hall sentries patrolled the perimeter, their steps crisp, eyes alert. Each bore the white-and-gold armor of elite enforcers, a sign of the seriousness with which this place was treated.
No one knew what had truly happened here.
Only that a year ago, four figures—Li Wei, Zhu Zhuqing, Ning Rongrong, and Xiao Wu—had vanished into a pillar of light and never returned.
____________________
In a fortified estate carved into the cliffs near Heaven Dou City, the remnants of Shrek Academy trained in quiet fervor.
The central courtyard was alive with motion—students sparring, instructors barking orders, the air thick with sweat and spirit energy. But beneath the surface, there was tension. An invisible scar that had never quite healed.
Inside the northern hall, Oscar stood at a wooden training dummy, sweat beading down his forehead as he unleashed another Spirit-boosted strike. A flash of white intercepted his wrist.
"Too slow," said Meng Yiran, smiling faintly as she twisted his arm behind his back and gently brought him to the ground.
He groaned. "I liked you better when you weren't this good."
"Liar," she replied.
Oscar chuckled and sat up, rubbing his shoulder. The tension between them was subtle, a mix of shared hardship and unspoken comfort. A year ago, they might've only seen each other as teammates. Now, they were something more—not lovers, not quite—but no one doubted the closeness.
Ma Hongjun watched them from a distance, arms crossed. "When's the wedding?" he called.
"When you can do fifty pushups without gasping like a fish," Yiran shot back.
"Tch. Ice woman."
Behind them, Tang San walked by without a word, eyes buried in a scroll detailing soul array theory. His demeanor was cold, focused, untouched by humor. Dai Mubai followed soon after, directing the younger students with stern efficiency.
The academy had endured—but it had changed.
The four that had vanished were not just missing. They had left behind a silence louder than mourning. No funeral was held. No graves were dug. Instead, the Shrek team had built a shrine within the hall. On it hung spirit imprints—subtle echoes of Li Wei, Zhu Zhuqing, Ning Rongrong, and Xiao Wu. Beneath them lay fresh flowers.
Zhao Wuji sat nearby, sipping tea and watching the flames dance in the hearth.
"It's been a year," he muttered.
Flender entered the room, coat fluttering. "We'll light the lanterns tonight. Even if they're not here, they'll see it."
Liu Erlong nodded from behind him, but her eyes betrayed a sliver of hope she had long hidden.
________________
Far away, within Spirit Hall inner sanctum, Crocodile Douluo—Li Lu—stood before a stone tablet.
It was etched with shifting symbols, part spatial map, part magical monitoring device. At its center glowed a faint ripple, barely perceptible.
A young spirit master approached cautiously.
"Elder Li... the readings remain unchanged. Do you still wish to maintain the lockdown?"
Li Lu turned. His presence was suffocating even in stillness.
"You will guard that rift until your death or my direct order, whichever comes first. Understood?"
The man paled. "Yes, Elder."
As the younger spirit master retreated, Li Lu reached into his robe and pulled out a small token—a carved piece of blue crystal. It shimmered faintly, pulsing.
He clenched it tightly. "You're alive, boy. I can feel it. And you'd better stay that way."
______________________
That night, the stars shimmered above Shrek academy.
In the courtyard, a lantern ceremony began. A dozen floating lanterns were lit and released into the sky, each one carrying a silent wish. Tang San didn't participate, but stood at the edge watching. Dai Mubai remained by the shrine, silent.
Oscar stood beside Meng Yiran, a soft breeze brushing past them.
"Sometimes I hear her voice at night," Yiran whispered.
"Zhuqing?"
She nodded. "In dreams. She's always laughing. And Li Wei... he just stares at me like I've done something wrong."
Oscar reached out, fingers brushing hers. She didn't move away.
"If they ever come back," he said quietly, "I want to be able to smile without guilt."
"Then we better keep living," she replied.
________________
Back at the Silent Rift, the ground began to shake.
A faint pulse of golden light spread from the center of the mist. Spirit Hall sentries at the perimeter scrambled into position, weapons drawn.
"Did the barriers breach?" one shouted.
"No... no, something's emerging!"
A ripple tore through the air. The mist spiraled upward like a cyclone—and from it, four silhouettes stepped out.
Cloaked in ash, battered robes, spirit energy still swirling faintly around them. The moon cast pale silver across their forms.
A woman at the front—tall, with feline grace—stared forward with piercing amber eyes.
Behind her, a man stepped with calm precision, his weapon—a strange blue device at his side—glinting faintly.
The lieutenant of the Spirit Hall guards raised his hand, voice sharp:
"Identify yourselves!"
The mist thinned.
Li Wei eyes slowly opened.
He stared at them, calm. Then he said:
"Shrek Academy. We're back."