Chapter 63 – The Storm of Ice and Fire, The Elemental Convergence
As the Shrek Seven Devils stepped onto the sand, they were met not by one academy, but by a unified front. Feng Xiaotian, Huo Wu, Shui Yue'er, and Xue Wu stood at the vanguard. The air around them was a chaotic swirl of freezing mist and scorching heat.
"Shrek has relied on individual brilliance for too long," Feng Xiaotian declared, his dual-headed wolf spirit howling as he took to the sky. "Today, you face the harmony of nature itself!"
The match began with a terrifying synchronization. Shui Yue'er and Xue Wu began their rhythmic dance, a performance that chilled the very air. Their soul power merged, creating a localized blizzard that specifically targeted the Shrek side of the ring.
"My flames!" Ma Hongjun yelled, struggling to ignite his Phoenix fire. The heavy, damp frost of the blizzard acted as a perfect dampener, suppressing his heat before it could even manifest.
With the fire-support neutralized, Huo Wu stepped forward. She didn't launch her fire at Ma Hongjun, she channeled it into the winds created by Feng Xiaotian. The result was a Storm of Ice and Fire, a swirling vortex of frost needles and explosive embers that tore through Tang San's Blue Silver Grass like it was tissue paper.
Tang San realized within minutes that they were being pushed to the brink. His team was blind in the blizzard, and the constant thermal shock of the frost-fire storm was cracking their defenses.
I have no choice, Tang San thought, his eyes flashing with a desperate light.
He took a central position, his fingers moving in a blur. To coordinate the defense of six people against such a complex, multi-layered elemental assault, he needed more than just his eyes. He activated the Distraction Heart Control.
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In the VIP stands, Ning Fengzhi stiffened. His calm, elegant facade shattered for a split second as he leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Tang San's movements.
"That movements, that rhythm... the way he is partitioning his soul power into three, no, four distinct streams to guide his teammates simultaneously," Ning Fengzhi whispered, his voice cold. "That is the Three-Aperture... no, he has reached the Four-Aperture Distraction Heart."
The Bone Douluo narrowed his eyes. "The girl Rongrong really gave away the foundation of our sect for this boy? Look at him, Fengzhi. He uses it as if he were born into our clan, yet he hasn't even the decency to acknowledge the source of where it came from"
Ning Fengzhi didn't speak, but his knuckles turned white as he gripped his cane. The investment he had planned was starting to feel like a betrayal. He watched Tang San use the technique to pull his teammates back from the edge of the storm, realizing that the hero of Shrek had a very flexible definition of Self-Created.
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High above the chaos, Lakan sat beside Bibi Dong, his silver eyes tracking every micro-movement Tang San made. While the crowd cheered at Tang San's "miraculous" coordination, Lakan let out a sigh of genuine disappointment.
"Do you see it, mommy Dong'er?" Lakan asked, pointing toward the ring. "The way he holds his wrist when he redirects the energy? He is mimicking the form of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, but he lacks the 'Root.' The Heart Control isn't just about dividing the mind; it's about the resonance between the spirit and the auxiliary soul power. He is forcing it with brute mental strength."
Bibi Dong nodded, her regal posture a stark contrast to the desperate struggling below. "It is a hollow gesture. A technique without the lineage's soul is like a puppet on strings. It will work against these children, but it will snap under true pressure."
"Exactly," Lakan smirked, that teasing and playful expression returning. "He's like a child who found a master's sword and thinks he's a swordsman because he can swing it. He hasn't realized that every time he uses a stolen skill, he's just digging his own grave deeper. The more he relies on the Tang Sect and the Glazed Tile secrets, the less he understands his own Martial Soul."
The battle concluded in a feat of pure physical endurance. Tang San, pushed to the absolute limit of his soul power, used the Controlling Crane, Capturing Dragon to physically yank his teammates out of the path of Feng Xiaotian's final 64-Strike Storm Gale.
With a final, desperate surge, Tang San used a Blue Silver Prison, not to trap the enemies, but to create a shield for a last-second counter-attack by Dai Mubai. The Star Luo prince, fueled by frustration and a need to prove himself to the watching Zhuqing, shattered the exhausted defenses of the Five Elements Alliance.
The referee raised Shrek's hand. They had won.
But as they stood there, gasping for air, covered in burns and frostbite, there were no cheers of "Monster." The audience looked at Tang San with a growing sense of unease. They had seen him use techniques that belonged to other sects, and they had seen the Shrek team struggle like common brawlers rather than the "invincible prodigies" they claimed to be.
The rest of the Shrek team looked at Tang San with a mixture of awe and expectation. They knew he had more techniques—he had taught them the basics of energy circulation, after all. To them, he was their "living library," the one who always had a secret hidden in his sleeve. They didn't feel distrust; they felt a dangerous dependency.
"We... we did it," Oscar wheezed, leaning on his sausage stand.
"Don't celebrate yet," Tang San said, his voice raspy as he coughed up a bit of blood. He looked up at the VIP booth, where Lakan was already turning away, seemingly bored by the display. "The real wall is still standing."
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In the darkest corner of the stadium, the Slaughter King adjusted his hood. He had seen enough. He had seen the way Tang San used his mind to control others, a skill that reminded him of the darker manipulations of the Slaughter City.
But more importantly, he had seen Lakan's reaction.
"The Holy Son is bored because he sees through the farce," the King chuckled darkly. "He knows the rabbit's time is coming. The Heart Control won't save them when I unleash the Blood Feast."
The Slaughter King began to trace a crimson rune on the stone floor beneath his feet. He was waiting for the final match, the moment when the revelation of the 100,000 years old soul beast would shatter the peace of Wuhun City. That was when he would strike, not for the tournament, but for the divine essence he sensed within Lakan.