A faint smile played at Feng Yao's lips as his gaze slowly swept across the Shrek group. "What's wrong? Are the proud heirs of the Upper Three Sects afraid of a commoner Soul Master like me?"
His tone was casual, yet every word struck at the heart. Tang San's face instantly darkened, the violet light in his Purple Demon Eyes churning violently. Yu Tianheng clenched his fists, lightning involuntarily bursting around him and exploding into tiny arcs across the ground. Even Ning Rongrong could not help frowning.
His words sounded offhand, but they had struck directly at the crux of the matter. Feng Yao understood the mentality of sect disciples all too well—Martial Souls were not only the foundation of their sects, but also the basis of their pride.
If they chose to retreat now, it would not merely damage their personal honor. It would also tarnish the centuries-old reputation of the sects behind them.
The Shrek group struggled inwardly. Feng Yao gently stroked the strings, that faint smile still at his lips. This was more effective than any provocation—when sect honor was placed on the scales, these proud heirs had no path of retreat.
In the VIP seats, Ning Fengzhi's scepter paused slightly. They all understood that Feng Yao had already forced Shrek into a position where they had no choice but to accept.
"Xiao San, accept his challenge!" Dai Mubai's tiger eyes widened, his voice ringing with force. "With the seven of us joining hands, how could we fail to withstand a single move from him?"
Lightning flickered around Yu Tianheng as he said gravely, "This is not merely about personal honor. It concerns the dignity of our sects."
Tang San's gaze swept over every teammate—Dai Mubai and Zhu Zhuqing nodded slightly, Xiao Wu clenched her small fists,