"So there you have it," Chen Junting said, spreading his hands as he saw the group's reactions settle. "Since none of us wants to keep fighting, we'll just toss the problem back to the one who set the rules."
No sooner had he spoken than—
"Clever brat—so that's your game."
Elder Xuan materialized before them, chicken leg in hand, his sharp eyes gleaming through tangled hair as he fixed Chen Junting with a knowing stare.
Without waiting for a reply, Xuan Zi turned to the teachers. "Take your eliminated students and go. These nine stay."
Wang Yan and the others moved quickly—but most eliminated Core Disciples remained rooted in place, faces twisted with resentment.
It wasn't sour grapes over losing quickly. They'd witnessed the monsters on stage: Soul Ancestors, over-limit soul ring absorbers, top-tier martial souls—they'd lost with full respect.
But Elder Xuan had promised seven winners. Now he kept nine.
Unfair! If two extra spots existed, they might've been among them.
Xuan Zi read their thoughts instantly. "My word stands—seven it is. How I choose those seven from nine? None of your concern. Got questions? Ask now—don't whine later about my 'bias.'"
He took a swig of wine, ignoring them, and studied the nine survivors with a calculating gaze.
Soon, the eliminated shuffled out. Only Xuan Zi and the nine remained.
The silence unnerved everyone but Chen Junting. Even Ning Tian's sapphire eyes clouded with worry.
They'd just outmaneuvered a Sea God Pavilion Elder.
Yet given the choice again, they'd do the same.
Chen Junting squeezed Ning Tian's hand—calming her.
Ahem—!
Xuan Zi coughed pointedly. These brats weren't cowed by his silence—they were flaunting affection in front of a lonely old man! He gulped more wine.
"As you heard," he grumbled, "only seven of you will join the Continental Advanced Soul Master Academy Team Competition. But you're not the main team—you're the reserve squad. Substitutes, plain and simple."
To their credit, the nine didn't look disappointed—they looked thrilled.
Their guess was right! The selection's purpose matched Chen Junting and Ning Tian's prediction three days prior.
Xuan Zi's brow furrowed. "You already knew?"
When they claimed it was a "guess," he relaxed—then muttered around a mouthful of chicken, "Had to be that brat Wang Yan. Who else could've guessed?"
Unseen, Wang Yan sneezed mid-walk, unknowingly saddled with blame.
"Now," Xuan Zi continued, "let's clarify: the two cut won't lack merit. They just don't fit the team's balance."
He pointed:
"You… you… you…"
After seven selections, only He Caitou and Wu Feng remained unchosen.
Their disappointment was palpable.
Xuan Zi's gaze lingered on He Caitou. Initially, he'd planned to cut Wang Dong and Wu Feng—keeping the optimal lineup: 2 attackers, 1 defender, 1 speed attacker, 1 controller, 1 support, 1 soul engineer. After all, aside from Huo Yuhao, only they had the lowest soul power levels—with no hope of matching others' growth in five years.
But then he recalled Wang Dong's fusion skill with Huo Yuhao. Swapping Wang Dong for He Caitou made sense.
And Huo Yuhao's dual-Core status already covers the soul engineering quota.
Thus, the seven were set.
"Senior He," Huo Yuhao began, stepping toward He Caitou—
"Don't worry, Yuhao," He Caitou cut in, shrugging. "You making it is a win for Soul Engineering too."
Chen Junting and Ning Tian pleaded with Xuan Zi. "Elder Xuan—can't you bend the rules?"
"Bend them?" Xuan Zi scoffed. "This isn't about rules—it's legacy. You're reserves now, but barring disasters, you'll be next tournament's main team—this generation's Shrek Seven Monsters. Can't have nine 'Seven Monsters,' can we?"
Chen Junting pressed, smooth as silk: "What if we call them rotating reserves? If the main team falters and reserves prove insufficient, having extras ensures no gaps. And rotating members wouldn't break your 'seven' promise—after all, unrejected candidates deserve some reward, right? Otherwise, a loss might embolden the Sun Moon Empire to reignite war."
Xuan Zi's bleary eyes snapped wide.
This brat not only stole his arguments—he'd even patched the loophole in his promise!
...And it made perfect sense.
Seizing the moment, Chen Junting played his trump card: "Ten thousand years ago, the first Shrek Seven Monsters brought four peers of equal strength to the tournament."
Xuan Zi blinked in surprise. "You know that?"
"Naturally," Chen Junting smiled. "Our ancestors Ning Rongrong and Oscar rose to fame in that tournament. The sect documented every detail."
He leaned in. "So, Elder Xuan… what's your verdict?"
Xuan Zi stared at him, torn. With a frustrated wave, he sighed: "My decision isn't final."
He addressed the group: "All nine of you—keep this secret. Leak it, and you lose your spot and Core status."
Then, to Chen Junting: "Per regulations, you'll train with me weekly. Come all nine to the first session. I'll announce the final decision then."
He paused. "Oh—and later, the main team will join your sessions. You'll recognize them… their lineup hasn't changed much."
A chill ran through the group.
The seven Inner Court seniors from the class exam—exactly seven.
Chen Junting met Xuan Zi's gaze—and caught the elder's mocking glint.
Well. It is what it is.
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