Barak Academy dared to provoke us like that? I don't care who among you gets on the stage, but if I have to step in for this kind of trash, you might as well go home early.
Lin Fan crossed his arms and spoke coldly, indifferent as always.
"After all, I've carried Shrek Academy's name during the entire elite tournament. I'm not about to embarrass myself now."
Yu Xiaogang turned serious and said to the group,
"Lin Xuan's words are harsh, but he's not wrong. If you can't even take down Barak Academy, you truly have no business going to Spirit Hall City for the finals—you'd only bring shame."
"I don't expect you to wipe the floor with all seven, but at the very least, I want three wins."
He looked at the trio and asked:
"Zhu Zhuqing, Dai Mubai, Xiao Wu—who wants to go first?"
Xiao Wu stepped out angrily:
"Master, let me! I've had enough of those guys. I'm a level 42 Spirit Ancestor—I can take them all out myself!"
"Zhuqing, Dai Mubai—don't fight me for this one!"
Dai Mubai nodded in agreement:
"Alright."
Yu Xiaogang approved her request.
"Xiao Wu, hit them hard with your Eight-Stage Drop—show them no mercy."
Ma Hongjun cheered.
"A moment of silence for Barak Academy—they're about to get rag-dolled."
Oscar snickered.
"Xiao Wu, be careful. Their captain is also level 42."
Tang San reminded gently.
"Don't worry, Brother San. Watch me wreck him."
Xiao Wu replied confidently.
On the other side, Barak Academy's captain had already stepped onto the stage, grinning smugly:
"So, the losers from Soto City have no one to send? If you're too scared, just surrender now."
"Hmph, Fuluoji—don't get cocky. Just wait and see what our Xiao Wu can do."
Ma Hongjun snapped back.
Xiao Wu skipped her way onto the stage in a deliberately cute fashion.
"Pfft, can't believe they're sending a little girl. Just surrender already."
Fuluoji sneered.
"You'd better go easy on me~"
Xiao Wu pouted sweetly, playing her part.
"Don't worry. Big brother will be gentle,"
Fuluoji said, clearly dazed by her charm.
From the imperial viewing platform, Emperor Xue Ye murmured,
"Strange that Shrek didn't send out Lin Xuan—they could've ended it quickly."
"Your Majesty," Ning Fengzhi replied with a smile, "Lin Xuan's strength is unquestionable. I assume their instructors want the other students to gain experience, which is why they're holding him back."
"Hmph."
Salas scoffed but said nothing more. After receiving Bibi Dong's letter, he knew Lin Xuan had a Titled Douluo uncle—not someone to provoke lightly.
"I hereby declare the personal match begins!"
Dream Machine, the referee, announced.
Xiao Wu smiled gently, her pink eyes glimmering.
"Second Soul Skill: Charm!"
She had already begun preparing her charm before stepping onto the stage. Her opponent, Fuluoji, was also level 42 but had only a ten-year spirit ring. His spiritual strength was nowhere near Xiao Wu's.
He instantly fell under the effect of her charm.
Xiao Wu saw the dazed look in his eyes and immediately teleported to launch a kick.
Fuluoji, sensing danger at the last second, tried to snap out of it—but it was too late.
What followed was a complete Eight-Stage Drop beatdown.
He never even got to release a soul skill before collapsing on the stage—knocked out cold.
"Do these outside teams not know Shrek has a Spirit King? And they still dare provoke them?"
Huo Wu muttered, surprised.
"Judging by their exchange, it's clear they've had history."
Feng Xiaotian added with a chuckle.
The other teams watched with great interest.
Barak Academy's members were furious. Several of them stormed the stage in protest.
Dai Mubai and Tang San appeared beside Xiao Wu immediately.
"What now? Not satisfied? Planning to brawl?"
Dai Mubai crossed his arms, standing at the front.
"Referee! I want to report Shrek Academy for excessive force and retaliation!"
Barak's vice-captain shouted.
"Insolence! Who do you think you're talking to?"
Salas slammed the armrest and stood up, barking a warning.
"We'll judge whether it was excessive or not."
"Ah! We didn't mean any offense—we just wanted to carry our captain off the stage."
The vice-captain stammered.
"Hmph. Entering the stage without permission—do it again, and your entire team will be disqualified."
Salas snapped and sat back down.
"Dream Machine, continue."
Emperor Xue Ye said flatly.
"Non-participants leave the stage. The match continues."
Dream Machine announced.
Xiao Wu stood smugly, throwing mocking glances at Barak Academy.
But the outcome was already clear. Every one of Barak's remaining fighters who faced Xiao Wu ended up falling to her second soul skill—Charm, and met the same fate.
Unlike team battles, personal matches rely purely on individual strength. Without teammates to assist, Xiao Wu's charm ability became even more powerful.
She quickly defeated six opponents, leaving only their control-type spirit master.
"You'll pay for your arrogance."
"First Soul Skill: Blossoming Glory!"
The spirit master summoned his Sunflower Martial Spirit, releasing a cloud of pale yellow mist that spread across the hundred-meter-wide arena.
Xiao Wu backed off to the edge of the stage, feeling increasingly sleepy.
"What kind of control skill is this?"
She frowned, stepping cautiously to find a weaker part of the mist.
"Trying to run?"
The opponent smirked.
"Second Soul Skill: Petal Surge!"
Predicting Xiao Wu's next step, he released a denser burst of mist, surrounding her.
Xiao Wu tried to teleport away but was hit by a heavy wave of fatigue. She wavered on the spot—and collapsed into sleep.
"Xiao Wu!"
Tang San called out in panic, but the match wasn't over—he couldn't interfere.
"Hmph. Got too cocky after beating six. Her mindset still needs work."
Lin Fan shook his head, mocking her.
Seeing Xiao Wu fully under control, the opponent unleashed his third soul skill:
"Sunburst Beam!"
A blast of yellow light fired from the center of his sunflower spirit, knocking Xiao Wu off the stage.
As the mist cleared, Xiao Wu woke up just in time to see her position—far outside the ring.
"I... I lost?"
She muttered in disbelief.
Tang San could no longer hold back. He flashed to her side.
"Xiao Wu! Are you hurt? Let me get someone to heal you," he asked anxiously.
"I'm okay, Brother San. I was just put to sleep by his soul skill. The third skill didn't hurt much."
Xiao Wu reassured him.
"Good. I'll handle the next round."
Tang San nodded and helped her back to Lin Fan and the others.
Then, he stepped onto the arena—his eyes fixed on his new opponent:
Barak's final fighter—Baluo.