The return journey from Heaven Dou City to Shrek Academy was quieter than the outbound trip.
The luxurious carriages rolled steadily south, but inside, thoughts churned.
Tang San spent hours staring out the window, mind dissecting every move from the exhibition match—searching for weaknesses in Heaven Dou's style, refining counters. Xiao Wu dozed against his shoulder, her rabbit spirit's instincts calm in his presence.
Dai Mubai and Zhu Zhuqing sat opposite each other, no longer avoiding eye contact. Words were few, but the silence felt different—tentative bridge-building rather than cold war.
Oscar and Ma Hongjun debated sausage flavors versus phoenix flame seasoning, laughter echoing occasionally.
Ning Rongrong and Jin Mori shared the rearmost carriage—officially for "strategy discussion," unofficially because no one dared question them.
They sat close, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm around her waist.
"The prince's offer bothered you more than you showed," she said quietly.
Mori nodded. "Not the offer itself. The calculation behind it. Empires, sects… they see power as pieces on a board. People become expendable."
Rongrong traced idle patterns on his hand.
"But you see us as people."
He turned to kiss her forehead. "Always."
She smiled, then grew serious. "The tournament is only four months away now. Every major academy will bring their best. Blue Tyrant Academy, Thunder College, Blazing Academy… and Spirit Hall's golden generation."
Mori's expression remained serene. "We'll prepare. You'll be ready."
"Not just ready," she corrected. "We'll win."
He chuckled softly. "That's my girl."
Back at Shrek, training intensified.
Grandmaster designed new regimens: endurance runs through nearby forests, simulated multi-opponent battles, spirit fusion technique experiments. Flender scrounged every resource—rare herbs for cultivation, spirit tools for practice.
Mori's role evolved further.
He began teaching advanced concepts—spirit power compression, domain awareness, intent reading. Concepts far beyond typical Spirit Master theory, drawn from his own transcendent experience adapted to this world's laws.
The students absorbed it hungrily.
One evening, after a particularly brutal session, Tang San approached Mori privately.
"Teacher Jin," he began, hesitation rare for him. "Your techniques… they feel different. Like they come from somewhere else."
Mori met his sharp gaze. Tang San's mind was too keen to hide from forever.
"They do," he admitted. "I come from another world. A place of different energies, different gods. I sent a part of myself here—to learn, to grow, to protect."
Tang San absorbed this without visible shock.
"Why tell me now?"
"Because you'll need to know for what's coming. Spirit Hall isn't just watching us. They're preparing something larger. And when the tournament arrives, they'll test more than our strength."
Tang San nodded slowly. "I won't tell the others. Not yet. But… thank you. For trusting me."
Mori placed a hand on his shoulder. "You carry the heaviest burdens, Tang San. Share them when you're ready."
As weeks turned to months, Rongrong's power grew dramatically.
Her fifth soul ring—absorbed under Mori's guidance from a rare auxiliary-type beast—pushed her boosts to sixty percent. Her pagoda's light now carried subtle healing properties, a mutation born from their joint meditation sessions.
Their love deepened in quiet moments.
Stolen kisses in the clearing. Hands held during group walks. Nights spent talking until dawn—her fears of failing her clan, his memories of lost friends softened by time but never gone.
One rare free afternoon, they escaped to a meadow beyond the academy.
Rongrong lay with her head in his lap, eyes closed as he played with strands of her silver hair.
"After the tournament," she said dreamily, "when we win… I want to show you the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan fortress. Not as heiress. Just as me."
Mori's fingers stilled.
"I'd like that."
She opened her eyes, looking up at him.
"And then… maybe we can travel. See more of this continent. Together."
He smiled, leaning down to kiss her gently.
"Wherever you want to go."
But peace was illusion.
Scouts reported increased Spirit Hall activity—golden generation teams training in secret, elders visiting major cities.
A letter arrived from Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan: Ning Fengzhi requested Rongrong's temporary return for "clan matters." The subtext was clear—pressure to align with traditional alliances against Spirit Hall's growing dominance.
Rongrong refused, reply written with steady hand: My place is with Shrek. With those who see me, not just my pagoda.
Her father's response was proud silence—no disownment, only acceptance.
Then, two months before the tournament, the storm broke.
A Spirit Hall delegation arrived unannounced at Shrek's gates.
Led by Chrysanthemum Douluo Yue Guan and Ghost Douluo Gui Mei—two Titled Douluo of fearsome reputation.
Flender nearly fainted.
Grandmaster's face went pale.
The students gathered defensively.
Mori stepped forward alone.
"State your purpose," he said calmly.
Yue Guan's effeminate smile was chilling. "Merely a courtesy visit. Her Holiness Bibi Dong wishes to extend personal invitation to the young expert who tamed the Titan Emperor. And to observe your… promising students."
Ghost Douluo's spectral form flickered. "Refusal would be unwise."
Mori's staff appeared in his hand with a soft chime.
"I decide what is wise for my students."
Pressure exploded—two Titled Douluo domains clashing against Mori's restrained aura.
The air warped. Ground cracked.
Students dropped to knees under residual force.
Rongrong struggled forward, pagoda glowing, boosting Mori subtly.
He felt it—warmth flowing into his spirit power.
The clash lasted seconds.
Then Mori tapped his staff once.
A golden ripple spread.
The two elders slid back three steps—unharmed, but undeniably repelled.
Yue Guan's smile faltered.
"Impressive control," he said. "Her Holiness will be most interested."
They departed without further conflict.
But the message was delivered.
Spirit Hall had measured him—and found him worthy of direct attention.
That night, the Seven Devils gathered in the courtyard.
"We can't avoid them forever," Dai Mubai growled.
"We won't," Tang San said quietly. "The tournament is neutral ground. We'll face them there."
Rongrong stood beside Mori, hand in his.
"And we'll win there."
Mori looked at each of them—his students, his family in this world.
"Then we train harder," he said. "Not just to win. To show the continent what true monsters look like."
Grandmaster nodded. "Final preparations begin tomorrow. No holding back."
As the group dispersed, Mori and Rongrong lingered.
She leaned into him.
"They're afraid of you," she whispered.
"They should be," he replied. "But not for the reasons they think."
She looked up, eyes fierce with love.
"We'll make them afraid of us—all of us."
He kissed her then—fierce, promising.
The tournament approached like gathering thunder.
Empires watched. Sects schemed. Spirit Hall plotted.
But at Shrek, seven devils and their transcendent teacher prepared—not as pieces on a board, but as a force united.
Love, friendship, determination forged in fire.
The storm was coming.
And they would meet it head-on.