Two and a half years later—Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Sect.
On the dueling platform—crafted from tightly interlocked slabs of special stone—three figures stood locked in tense confrontation.
A boy who appeared eleven or twelve years old stood motionless at the edge of the arena, his azure-blue sword held steady in hand. Though still as stone, an aura of indomitable spirit radiated from him.
He stood about 1.7 meters tall—slim yet upright, with a face of sharp, icy composure. His sword-like brows and star-bright eyes framed a countenance as flawless as a full moon. Clad in white robes, his shoulder-length white hair fluttered slightly in the wind, exuding an air of piercing intensity.
This was Chen Junting.
Opposite him stood two girls of breathtaking beauty—none other than Ning Tian and Wu Feng.
"Little Feng, that's still not enough," Chen Junting said calmly.
With a mere flick of his Seven Kill Sword, the incoming fireball vanished into nothingness. He remained utterly composed—as if swatting away a gnat.
Even the combined assault of two Soul Grandmasters paled before his peak Level 33 cultivation.
"Hmph! Don't underestimate us!" Wu Feng snapped. Her fiery temper flared as she realized her flames hadn't even singed his sleeve. Both of her yellow soul rings ignited at once.
"Young Mistress—boost me!"
Buzz—
Two streaks of light shot into Wu Feng's body. In less than a breath, she lunged at Chen Junting like a crimson comet. Her right fist, wreathed in Red Dragon Flame, shot straight for his face!
But in an instant—a glint of cold light flashed.
His sword cleaved through the flames like paper.
The tip of his blade tapped against Wu Feng's draconic claw. Scales scattered mid-air, her rhythm shattered. She barely managed to leap backward to avoid instant defeat.
Chen Junting withdrew his sword and watched silently.
He could've pressed the advantage—unleashed all three of his soul skills and ended the match in a heartbeat. But that would betray the purpose of this spar.
To refine combat technique, the fight had to feel balanced.
"Little Feng, Little Tian—you were just a hair's breadth away."
"Yeah, right," Wu Feng scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Tell that to the ghosts."
Having trained with Chen Junting long enough, she knew all too well what "a hair's breadth" really meant in his world—often an unbridgeable chasm.
So she didn't hold back her sarcasm.
"Heh. Honestly, it was juuuust a bit short," Chen Junting replied, unruffled.
But—
Before his words fully faded, the first yellow star on his Seven Kill Sword flared. A razor-sharp sword beam lashed out—aimed not at Wu Feng, but at Ning Tian behind her.
"You cheap sword-wielding bastard!" Wu Feng roared in outrage.
He'd distracted her with talk—then struck at Ning Tian!
Yet in the next heartbeat—
"Hm."
Chen Junting's eyes narrowed. He slashed again. A second sword beam shot forth—and collided with the first midair, canceling both in a silent burst.
"Huh? Why'd you stop?" Wu Feng, already mid-turn to rescue Ning Tian, froze in confusion.
Then she saw it—Ning Tian's body suddenly surged with soul power, which settled just as quickly.
"Oh! Young Mistress—you broke through!"
Wu Feng's face lit up with genuine joy.
"Mm. It just… felt right," Ning Tian said softly, a quiet smile blooming on her lips.
At eleven years old, reaching Level 30 as a support-type Soul Grandmaster was a feat unseen in millennia.
"Congratulations, Little Tian," Chen Junting said, stepping beside her. Gazing at the girl before him—her hands like tender reeds, her skin like congealed jade—his thoughts swirled. 'With your current strength, you've already surpassed Ancestor Ning Rongrong from ten thousand years ago.'
"Brother Junting, I still have a long way to go," Ning Tian replied humbly.
Chen Junting didn't press the point. Instead, he quietly pondered how to enter the Ice-Fire Yin Yang Well to obtain immortal herbs—so Ning Tian's martial soul could evolve into the true Nine Treasures Glazed Tile Pagoda.
But… that would be hard.
Meanwhile, Wu Feng was already chattering excitedly with Ning Tian about which soul beast to hunt for her third soul ring.
Just then, a disciple in white martial robes approached from afar and bowed deeply before them.
"Young Master Chen, the Sect Leader requests your presence."
Chen Junting's eyes flickered. He recalled a conversation from days ago—when the Sect Leader had mentioned sending him, along with Ning Tian and Wu Feng, to study at Shrek Academy.
Today must be the day they finalized that plan.
After all, Shrek's enrollment period was fast approaching.
…
On the third-floor balcony of the Seven Treasures Glazed Tile Pagoda, Ning Bowen sat leisurely at a tea table, brewing a pot of fragrant Longjin Tea.
"Young Master Ning," Chen Junting greeted as he arrived.
Ning Bowen looked up, poured him a cup without a word, and gestured for him to sit.
Chen Junting accepted the cup without ceremony.
"Junting," Ning Bowen began, sipping his tea with a faint smile, "you probably already know why I called you here."
"It's about Shrek Academy."
"And have you made up your mind?"
Chen Junting shook his head slightly. "I haven't." Truthfully, he didn't understand why he needed to go to Shrek. The cultivation resources the sect provided him far surpassed anything Shrek could offer.
"You're confused," Ning Bowen said gently—seeing right through him.
"What you see of Shrek Academy is merely its surface."
His tone shifted suddenly. "Did you know? Thousands of years ago, Shrek had no Outer or Inner Academy. The Outer Academy was created as a compromise—a concession to the noble families. Its sole purpose? To serve as a stage where prodigies and aristocrats could mingle."
"…A compromise?"
If anyone else had said that, Chen Junting would've thought they'd lost their mind.
"The Shrek Academy—the very name that shakes the continent, known for its arrogance and might—compromised with the nobles?" He stared into his rippling tea, disbelief swirling within.
"Every power makes compromises," Ning Bowen said evenly, setting down his cup.
"In Shrek's eyes, only the Inner Academy is the true Shrek. Entry requires only talent and strength. And only Inner Academy students receive Shrek's real training—its deepest knowledge. Moreover, the Inner Academy houses the Golden Ancient Tree, granting every student access to the continent's finest simulated cultivation environment."
"To Shrek's leadership, the Outer Academy is… irrelevant."
Chen Junting fell silent. 'So the ten-thousand-year legacy of Shrek isn't to be underestimated. I was naive.'
"Uncle Ning," he said slowly, "you want me to take Little Tian and Little Feng into Shrek's Outer Academy—to scout talent for the sect—and then enter the Inner Academy ourselves… essentially, 'borrowing someone else's hen to hatch our eggs'."
Now that he understood Shrek's true nature, Chen Junting grasped the Sect Leader's real intent—and wrapped it in a polite euphemism.
"Exactly—borrowing their hen to hatch our eggs," Ning Bowen chuckled. "And Shrek knows it. So do the White Tiger Duke Manor, our sect, the Tian Long Sect, and even the Tang Sect—back when it still held power thousands of years ago. And Shrek treats our people fairly… because they understand the mutual benefit."
Is it because of the bond between the original Shrek Seven Devils and the Golden Iron Triangle ten thousand years ago?
Perhaps.
But more than sentiment—it was about interests.
In that moment, everything clicked for Chen Junting.
Ning Bowen watched his expression shift, then asked, "Well? Have you decided now?"
With shared interests and clear advantages, Chen Junting had no reason to refuse.
He drained his tea in one gulp. "Uncle Ning, rest assured—I'll take good care of Little Tian and Little Feng."
"Heh."
The two exchanged a knowing glance—and both smiled.
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