Teacher Zhao, careful now! Oscar warned in a low voice, twirling his iron staff in a flashy spin.
Zhao Wuji smiled lazily at him, not even bothering to move. Oscar lunged forward, lowering his stance as he dragged the heavy iron staff with him, rushing in with fierce momentum.
Zhao Wuji gave him a rare look of respect—but only that. He didn't think Oscar could actually threaten him.
Whoosh!
The iron staff swept toward Zhao Wuji's head with a gust of wind.
Zhao Wuji raised his right hand and caught the staff directly. With a sharp tug, he yanked hard, pulling Oscar off balance.
But Oscar had anticipated this. His expression didn't change. Instead, he pushed off the ground, leaping into the air. With a twist, he spun the staff free from Zhao Wuji's grip, rotating his body 180 degrees before coming down.
On the descent, Oscar brought the iron staff down toward Zhao Wuji's head again, the force of the swing helping to slow his fall.
"Heh, brat, you really got it in for my head, don't you?" Zhao Wuji chuckled.
He simply lifted both hands to cover his head. The blow landed, but he only bent his knees slightly to absorb it. That was all it took to completely stop Oscar's strike.
Oscar withdrew the staff and quickly backed up to avoid Zhao Wuji's counterpunch. But Zhao Wuji advanced without hesitation, giving him no chance to breathe.
Oscar raised the iron staff horizontally to block. Zhao Wuji's fist crashed into it with terrifying force, sending Oscar flying backward.
Even so, Oscar reacted swiftly. He stabbed one end of the staff into the ground, using it to vault back up, and then kicked off with explosive power, launching himself straight at Zhao Wuji again.
Against an opponent like Zhao Wuji—high defense, high offense—defending was pointless. Attack was the only defense.
On the sidelines, Ma Hongjun watched with his jaw dropped. This… this is a support-type Spirit Master?! Why does he look fiercer than an assault-type?
In truth, Oscar's current strength was already on par with Spirit Masters of the assault category at his level—even stronger in some respects. That was, of course, without soul skills.
But against Zhao Wuji? Oscar was still lacking. Tricks and techniques were nearly useless—Zhao Wuji's raw physical durability made them meaningless. Even Tang San in the original story had to use hidden weapons, and the Clear Sky Hammer, just to leave a mark on him.
Oscar had no such trump cards. Still, the thought crossed his mind: Maybe I should check out Flender's little shop. Who knows? I might find something handy.
When the sparring session ended, Oscar was exhausted, though not badly injured. He hadn't been able to hurt Zhao Wuji, but he had done remarkably well at defending against his attacks—emerging almost unscathed.
He ate one of his stored sausages, quickly recovering much of his stamina. A super recovery sausage restored his spirit power in full.
"Senior Oscar, that was amazing!" Ma Hongjun gushed, eyes shining with admiration. "I'm definitely gonna train hard too. Someday, I want to fight Teacher Zhao just like you!"
Oscar smiled faintly. Ma Hongjun knew Zhao Wuji was a Soul Sage—yet here was Oscar, a support-type, going toe-to-toe with him. To a newly arrived student, it was shocking. Ma Hongjun couldn't help but imagine that once he reached level ten and gained his first spirit ring, as a true assault-type Spirit Master, he'd surely outshine Oscar.
Of course, that was only in his head. He wouldn't dare say it out loud. Right now, Oscar could still beat him without breaking a sweat.
The following days settled into routine training. With Oscar as his role model, Ma Hongjun trained seriously. His evil fire was still weak at this stage, barely noticeable, so it posed no issue.
But soon he discovered how terrifying it was to follow Oscar's regimen. Oscar's discipline was absolute—there was no such thing as slacking off. Even when Ma Hongjun wanted to rest or quit, the pressure of Flender's expectations forced him to endure.
How could a support-type Spirit Master outwork me?
Two months later, Ma Hongjun finally broke through to level ten. All he needed now was a spirit ring.
Since his spirit was avian-type, Flender personally took him to obtain one.
Half a month later, Flender returned to Shrek with Ma Hongjun, who now stood as an eleventh-level Spirit Master with his first ring.
As in the original story, his first skill was Phoenix Fireline—a fiery stream attack that could extend up to ten meters and continue as long as his spirit power lasted. Thanks to the evil fire, his flames were particularly hard to extinguish, with strong lingering damage.
Fresh off his success, Ma Hongjun's thoughts turned immediately to Oscar. The idea of testing himself against his senior became irresistible.
After all, Oscar was only level eighteen. And while his staff techniques were sharp, Ma Hongjun had ranged attacks! Surely, with his new skill, he could give Oscar a real fight.
Brimming with confidence, he sought Oscar out for a duel.
Oscar, seeing the smug look on the little fatty's face, only chuckled inwardly. Time to teach this brat a lesson.
In Shrek's courtyard, Zhao Wuji acted as referee. Oscar and Ma Hongjun stood opposite each other.
"Brother Oscar," Ma Hongjun said with a grin, "don't expect me to hold back. If you can't keep up, you'd better admit defeat early."
Oscar's expression didn't change, though inwardly he was already planning how best to knock some sense into him.
"Both sides, release your spirits. The match begins in one minute," Zhao Wuji announced, following standard rules.
Oscar lifted his staff across his chest, calm and steady.
"Ma Hongjun. Martial Spirit: Evil Fire Phoenix. Level eleven, assault-type Spirit Master!"
With his declaration, a yellow ring rose at his feet. Flames engulfed his body. His red hair spiked into a mohawk, giving him the look of a rooster rather than a majestic phoenix—especially since, despite slimming down, his belly was still round.
"Match start!" Zhao Wuji called.
Ma Hongjun's face split into a grin. His first spirit ring lit up, and he opened his mouth wide—spewing a long stream of fire straight at Oscar.
Oscar moved quickly, darting sideways. He had no intention of clashing head-on with the flames. Against Zhao Wuji, he'd fought directly because techniques were useless against overwhelming defense. But against Ma Hongjun, a ranged attacker, his strategy was completely different.
Though Oscar's spirit power was higher, he knew the flames weren't to be underestimated. With no defensive skills, he had to rely on agility and attrition.
Ma Hongjun adjusted his aim with every step Oscar took, chasing him with streams of fire. But no matter how he tried, the flames always missed by a narrow margin.
Zhao Wuji sighed and shook his head. Too wasteful. He doesn't even know how to conserve spirit power. At this rate, he'll burn himself out in minutes.
Sure enough, after just five minutes, the fire sputtered weakly before cutting off completely. Panting, sweat dripping from his forehead, Ma Hongjun gasped for air.
That was when Oscar charged in with his iron staff. Bang! The blow landed squarely, and Ma Hongjun yelped in pain, immediately surrendering.
"Mercy, Brother Oscar! I give up!" he cried.
Oscar stopped, pulling back the staff with a grin. "You've still got a lot to learn, kid. Don't think one spirit ring makes you invincible."
Ma Hongjun nodded frantically. "I won't do it again!"
Zhao Wuji stood by laughing, silently satisfied. Seems I won't need to worry much. With Oscar around, this little fatty is in good hands.