Suotuo Great Spirit Fighting Arena rose like a coliseum of stone and steel in the heart of the city, its banners snapping in the evening wind. Lanterns blazed along the outer walls, drawing crowds of soul masters, nobles, and common folk eager for the spectacle of blood and glory. Inside, the roar of thousands echoed through the corridors—cheers for victors, groans for the fallen.
The Shrek Seven Devils had come to register.
Grandmaster's reasoning was simple: real combat experience could not be fully simulated in training. The arena offered opponents of every level, team battles, and individual duels—all under relatively controlled rules. More importantly, the prize money would ease Flender's constant complaints about finances.
Jin Mori accompanied them, not as a participant, but as overseer and teacher.
The registration hall was chaos—long queues, shouting clerks, spirit masters flexing auras to intimidate rivals. The Seven Devils wore simple masks as per academy tradition: Tang San's was plain silver, Xiao Wu's a playful rabbit motif, Dai Mubai's a fierce tiger, Zhu Zhuqing's black cat, Oscar's cheerful sausage (to his embarrassment), Ma Hongjun's flaming phoenix, and Ning Rongrong's delicate seven-colored glass.
Mori wore no mask. His presence alone quieted conversations as they passed. Whispers followed: "That's the young Titled Douluo from Shrek…" "Nine rings, three red…" "Who is he really?"
At the counter, Flender handled the paperwork with greedy efficiency, registering them as the "Shrek Seven Devils" team for group battles and allowing individual entries.
Their first match was scheduled that very night—a team battle against a level-30ish group called the "Mad Rhinoceros Team," known for brutal assault tactics.
As they waited in the contestant lounge, tension coiled.
Dai Mubai paced, restless energy crackling. Zhu Zhuqing sat apart, sharpening her claws on a stone. Oscar nervously recited his sausage incantation under his breath. Ma Hongjun munched on snacks to calm his Evil Fire. Tang San and Xiao Wu sat close, speaking in low tones—strategies, contingencies.
Ning Rongrong stood near the observation window overlooking the main arena, arms wrapped around herself. The roar of the crowd seeped through the walls like distant thunder.
Mori approached quietly, stopping beside her.
"Nervous?" he asked.
She glanced at him, then back at the arena. "A little. Back home, I watched fights from private boxes. Never… down here."
He nodded. "The view is different from the sand. But so is the growth."
Rongrong bit her lip. "What if I mess up? What if my boosts aren't enough, or I'm in the wrong place again?"
Mori turned to face her fully. "Then you learn. And next time, you're better. That's why we're here."
Her eyes met his—uncertain, but searching for reassurance.
"You've improved every day," he continued softly. "Your positioning is sharper. Your timing faster. Trust what we've practiced."
A small smile tugged at her lips. "You always know what to say."
Before he could respond, the announcer's voice boomed through the lounge: "Next team battle! Shrek Seven Devils versus Mad Rhinoceros Team!"
The crowd's roar swelled.
The arena floor was vast—circular stone, scarred from countless battles, surrounded by tiered seats packed with spectators. A massive soul power barrier shimmered, protecting the audience while containing the fight.
The Mad Rhinoceros Team entered first: five burly men in heavy armor, martial spirits all rhinoceros variants—thick hides, massive horns, earth-shaking charges. Their combined spirit rank averaged thirty-five, a solid mid-tier team.
The Shrek Seven Devils entered to mixed reactions—some boos for the unknown newcomers, some cheers for the underdogs.
As they took position, Rongrong felt her heart pound.
The referee raised a flag. "Battle begin!"
The Rhinoceros team charged immediately, formation tight, horns lowered like battering rams.
Dai Mubai met them head-on, White Tiger possession activating—muscles bulging, claws gleaming. "White Tiger Intense Light Wave!"
A blazing beam shot forward, forcing two rhinoceroses to veer.
Tang San's Blue Silver Grass erupted from the ground, entangling ankles. Xiao Wu teleported into close range, waist throws sending one opponent tumbling. Zhu Zhuqing flickered like shadow, claws raking weak points. Ma Hongjun's phoenix flames roared, forcing separation. Oscar's sausages flew through the air—recovery and detoxification as needed.
Rongrong moved.
No longer static, she danced along the edges—footwork drilled night after night with Mori.
"Seven Treasures turn out glass! First: Strength! Second: Speed! Third: Defense!"
Prismatic lights enveloped her teammates in sequence, forty-percent boosts stacking perfectly. She shifted position constantly, never lingering long enough to be targeted.
The Rhinoceros captain bellowed, redirecting his charge toward her—the obvious support.
Rongrong's eyes widened, but training took over. She dodged sideways, pagoda spinning.
The captain thundered past, missing by inches.
In that moment, Zhu Zhuqing appeared behind him—boosted speed making her a blur. Nether Hundred Claws rained down, shredding armor.
The crowd erupted.
One Rhinoceros down.
The battle turned decisively. With Rongrong's flawless support, the Shrek Seven overwhelmed their opponents—coordination honed by weeks of training shining through.
Four minutes later, the last Rhinoceros fell.
Victory.
The announcer's voice thundered: "Winners—Shrek Seven Devils!"
Cheers rained down. Some spectators rose to their feet.
In the contestant lounge afterward, adrenaline still pumping, the team celebrated quietly—tired grins, back slaps, Oscar's triumphant sausage chant.
Rongrong found Mori waiting near the exit.
Her face was flushed, hair slightly disheveled, but her eyes sparkled.
"I did it," she said breathlessly, stopping before him. "I didn't freeze. I moved. The boosts landed perfectly."
Mori's smile was warm, proud. "You were magnificent."
The words hit her harder than the crowd's cheers. Heat rose to her cheeks.
"I couldn't have done it without…" She trailed off, gesturing vaguely toward the nights of training.
He shook his head. "It was you on that field. I only helped you find the path."
For a moment, they stood close—closer than teacher and student perhaps should. The noise of the lounge faded.
Then Xiao Wu bounded over, breaking the spell. "Teacher Jin! Did you see Rongrong? She was amazing!"
Mori laughed softly. "I did."
The group gathered their winnings—substantial for a first victory—and headed back to the academy under starlight.
Later that night, in the familiar clearing, Rongrong's private lesson continued.
But the focus shifted.
Instead of footwork or positioning, Mori taught her something new: spirit power circulation during stress.
They sat facing each other, knees almost touching, palms pressed lightly together as he guided her energy flow.
"Breathe," he instructed. "Feel the pagoda not as a tool outside you, but as an extension of your heart."
Her spirit power responded to his gentle guidance—smoother, warmer, more responsive.
After an hour, she opened her eyes, wonder in her expression.
"It's… stronger. The boosts feel like they could go higher."
Mori nodded. "Because you're not forcing it anymore. You're harmonizing."
Silence fell, comfortable yet charged.
Rongrong didn't pull her hands away immediately.
"Teacher Jin…" she began, then hesitated. "Why do you spend so much time with me? The others train hard too."
He considered his answer carefully.
"Because you remind me that strength isn't always in claws or flames," he said quietly. "Sometimes it's in the light that lets others shine brighter. And because…" His voice softened. "I enjoy your company."
Her breath caught.
The admission hung between them—simple, honest, profound.
Rongrong's fingers tightened slightly around his.
"I enjoy yours too," she whispered.
Moonlight filtered through the trees, silver on her hair, gold in his eyes.
Neither moved to close the distance. Not yet.
But the slow burn kindled brighter.
In the shadows beyond the academy walls, a figure in white robes observed from afar.
A Spirit Hall scout, eyes narrowed.
"The Shrek Seven Devils… and that teacher. Report to the Supreme Pontiff. This academy bears watching."
Far deeper, in the Star Dou Forest's core, ancient eyes opened fully.
A low rumble shook the earth—felt only by the oldest beasts.
The ripple had grown.
The guardian of the forest stirred.
And in a realm beyond worlds, the true Jin Mori opened his eyes in meditation.
A faint smile touched divine lips.
"Good," he murmured to the void. "Protect them a little longer."
The echoes grew stronger.
The story had only just begun.