Chapter 21: The Crucible of Shrek
The sun had barely risen over Soto City when the Shrek Seven Devils were already assembled in the academy's training ground. A thick morning mist hung over the field, dampening everything it touched. The world seemed half-awake — except for Grandmaster, whose cold, calculating gaze made the chill even sharper.
Today was not a day of rest.
Today was a day of pain.
---
The Unyielding Instructor
"Form up!"
Grandmaster's voice cut through the fog, sharp as steel.
There was no hesitation. The seven students scrambled into formation, standing at attention, though the tension in their shoulders betrayed their apprehension.
They had learned long ago that Grandmaster's training was never kind.
It was a crucible — one that burned away weakness and left only strength behind.
"Your performance in the Soto Grand Soul Arena was passable," Grandmaster began, pacing slowly before them. His words were clipped, emotionless. "But passable is not enough. A soul master who only survives a fight will never reach the peak."
His cold gaze swept over each of them, lingering just long enough to make them uncomfortable.
"Today, we train for dominance."
---
Endurance First
The morning began with a simple — yet brutal — routine.
"Ten laps around the academy grounds," Grandmaster commanded. "No spirit energy. Full speed."
Simple in theory. Torturous in practice.
The academy's grounds were vast, and the uneven terrain made running a test of both stamina and mental resilience.
Dai Mubai took the lead immediately, his tiger blood roaring, muscles honed for endurance.
Zhu Zhuqing followed closely, her feline grace giving her an edge over the rough ground.
Xiao Wu, ever energetic, kept pace effortlessly, though a mischievous smile was noticeably absent from her lips today.
Even Tang San, usually composed, was already breathing hard by the third lap.
As for Ning Rongrong and Oscar…
They suffered the most.
Ning Rongrong's Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda gave her incredible support abilities, but physical stamina was her Achilles' heel.
Oscar, though stronger than most auxiliary-type soul masters, struggled to keep up with the martial-oriented teammates.
And Grandmaster?
He watched.
Unmoving. Unforgiving.
---
The Price of Slacking
By the eighth lap, Ning Rongrong staggered, her face pale and drenched in sweat.
"I… I can't…" she panted, slowing to a walk.
The moment she did, Grandmaster appeared beside her, silent and predatory.
"You can't?" he asked softly — too softly.
Ning Rongrong flinched, as though his words had struck her.
"I…"
"Keep running," Grandmaster ordered, his tone like ice. "Or leave."
It wasn't a threat. It was a fact.
Shrek Academy accepted no weakness.
Gritting her teeth, Ning Rongrong forced her legs to move again, each step feeling like fire.
---
Combat Drills
When the laps ended, there was no break.
"Form pairs," Grandmaster commanded.
Dai Mubai and Zhu Zhuqing.
Tang San and Xiao Wu.
Oscar and Ning Rongrong.
Ayanokoji stood alone, as usual.
"Hand-to-hand combat. No spirit abilities. Winner stays."
The ground was already damp with morning dew and sweat as the first matches began.
Dai Mubai and Zhu Zhuqing sparred with feral intensity, their blows landing hard enough to bruise but never injure.
Tang San's movements were precise, economical — a reflection of both his innate talent and tireless training.
Xiao Wu was unpredictable, her soft-boned rabbit martial spirit granting her agility that bordered on supernatural.
Ning Rongrong and Oscar… fared less well.
But Grandmaster didn't care about fairness.
"Again," he said, each time one of them fell. "Until you can no longer stand."
---
Pain as a Teacher
As noon approached, the sparring sessions took their toll.
Oscar's lip was split.
Ning Rongrong's knuckles were bleeding.
Even Tang San sported a fresh bruise along his jawline.
But no one complained.
Because they knew better.
Grandmaster's lessons were never about comfort.
They were about survival.
---
The Mental Battle
"Sit," Grandmaster finally commanded, and the group collapsed onto the grass, gasping for breath.
But their reprieve was short-lived.
"Close your eyes," he ordered. "Focus on your martial spirits. Feel their strengths… and their limitations."
His voice, usually harsh, took on a different tone here — colder, more clinical.
"Power without control is useless. Control without understanding is dangerous."
A moment passed, the only sound their ragged breathing.
Grandmaster continued.
"There will come a day when your lives depend not on your strength… but on your ability to outthink your opponent."
His gaze darkened, a flicker of something old and bitter passing behind his eyes.
"If you cannot do that… you will die."
---
The Afternoon Gauntlet
"Spirit combat," Grandmaster announced once their breathing had steadied. "All seven of you. Against me."
A collective hesitation.
"Grandmaster, we—" Tang San began, but Grandmaster cut him off.
"You are soul masters now. If you cannot defeat a single opponent, how do you expect to survive the Continental Tournament?"
There was no arguing with that.
The Shrek Seven Devils exchanged glances — then nodded.
And the fight began.
---
The Harsh Reality
Even holding back, Grandmaster was overwhelming.
His martial spirit — Luo San Pao — wasn't powerful in the traditional sense, but his experience, tactics, and precision made him a nightmare to face.
Dai Mubai's raw strength was deflected effortlessly.
Zhu Zhuqing's speed was neutralized by cold calculation.
Tang San's Blue Silver Grass never touched him.
Xiao Wu's close-combat agility was turned against her.
Oscar and Ning Rongrong's support couldn't keep up with the relentless assault.
Even Ayanokoji, with his twin spirits, found himself on the defensive — and that was saying something.
---
The Collapse
By the time Grandmaster called an end to the session, the Shrek Seven Devils lay sprawled across the ground, utterly defeated.
"You lost," Grandmaster said simply, looking down at them.
There was no mockery in his tone — only cold reality.
"And that is why you train."
---
A Hard Truth
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the training field, Grandmaster stood alone, watching them.
They were talented — perhaps the most talented team of young soul masters he'd ever seen.
But talent wasn't enough.
They need more, he thought. They need to understand what it means to fight with everything on the line.
Because when the Continental Tournament came…
There would be no mercy.