Shrek's Crushing Defeat, Glory Belonging Only to Gu Sheng!

Bibi Dong did not speak immediately.

Her gaze fell upon Gu Sheng.

Within those beautiful eyes, complex emotions flowed.

It was by no means the condescension of a superior looking down upon a subordinate; it was more like a powerhouse standing at the pinnacle, earnestly appraising another of her own kind who was about to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her.

Gu Sheng did not avoid her gaze.

He met Bibi Dong's eyes calmly, his expression composed, his spine held straight.

The air in the room seemed to solidify in that instant.

A moment later, Bibi Dong's red lips parted slightly.

"Martial Soul Hall needs you."

Her voice was very soft, yet carried an unquestionable power.

Gu Sheng merely smiled slightly, not uttering any clichéd vows of loyalty.

But his attitude had already made everything clear.

Bibi Dong withdrew her gaze with satisfaction and turned around gracefully.

"The award ceremony is about to begin."

"Go and prepare yourself well."

Having said that, she took the two Douluo, Chrysanthemum and Ghost, and left the backstage like a gust of wind.

The door to the Shrek Academy lounge was tightly shut.

No lights were on in the room, and the dim light made the atmosphere feel even more oppressive.

Not a single person spoke.

Even the sound of breathing was deliberately kept very low, as if they feared breaking this deathly silence.

Tang San sat alone on a wooden chair.

His entire body was submerged in shadows, his head bowed deeply, and disheveled hair obscured his face.

His hands rested flat on his knees.

Those hands, which should have been incomparably steady, were trembling at a minute frequency.

Dried blood still remained under his fingernails, traces left from clawing at the rubble earlier.

Dai Mubai leaned powerlessly against the cold wall.

Both of his arms were wrapped in thick bandages, with faint traces of red blood seeping through.

His eyes were squeezed shut, and he remained motionless, not wanting to look at anyone in the room, nor wanting others to see the despair in his eyes.

As the captain of Shrek Team, he had lost this battle completely.

Ma Hongjun lay spread-eagled on the cold floor.

His eyes, which usually carried a hint of lewdness, were now hollow and devoid of any luster.

He stared blankly at the mottled ceiling above.

"My fire..."

He murmured over and over again in a voice only he could hear.

The silence of his martial soul made him feel as if he had become a cripple.

Zhu Zhuqing curled up on a chair in the furthest corner of the room.

She hugged her knees tightly, burying her pretty face into them.

Her shoulders were heaving violently.

The sounds of her desperately suppressed sobbing were particularly jarring in the quiet room.

Xiao Wu sat in the corner on the other side.

Her originally rosy face was now deathly pale, devoid of any color.

She hugged her shoulders, her body shivering incessantly.

The suppression of her bloodline, coming from the depths of her soul, had not yet fully dissipated, leaving her without even the strength to stand.

Oscar and Ning Rongrong sat side-by-side on a bench.

Oscar pulled at his own hair, his head lowered as he stared at the floor.

Ning Rongrong was silently shedding tears.

Her Glazed Tile Pagoda had not lit up even once from start to finish.

Flender stood before the window.

He had his back to everyone, his hands clasped behind him.

Yet, the shoulders of the usually shrewd and stubborn Dean were slumped.

His spine was no longer straight, and he looked as if he had aged ten years in an instant.

Yu Xiaogang sat in the chair beside Tang San.

He crossed his hands, his thumbs pressing firmly against his forehead.

His breathing was heavy and ragged, each breath accompanied by a tremor in his shoulders.

How could it end like this...

His heart was screaming in madness, yet reality struck him like a heavy slap across the face.

Before the match, how arrogant and high-spirited they had been.

They had firmly believed that with their Seven-in-One Fusion Skill and Tang San's Weapon Soul Avatar, they could sweep aside any opponent.

But now, they were nothing more than a pack of stray dogs.

Their former pride had been smashed to pieces in the face of absolute strength.

The Shrek Seven Devils.

At this moment, they had become seven heaps of lifeless, rotting mud.

The grand plaza of Martial Soul City, the venue for the award ceremony.

Representatives from various factions had already begun to take their seats one after another.

The spectators in the stands were buzzing with discussion, but the moment the Martial Soul Hall Team entered, the noise came to an abrupt halt.

Xie Yue walked at the very front of the formation.

His right arm was still wrapped in layers of white bandages.

Yet his stride was firm, his back held straight, displaying the pride expected of a spirit master from Martial Soul Hall.

Hu Liena walked by his side.

Her charming and moving face had returned to its usual calm.

Only when she glanced at the figure walking at the very end did a faint, strange light flicker in her eyes.

Yan walked toward the back of the formation.

His arm was encased in a thick splint, the entire limb immobilized against his chest.

But his eyes were startlingly bright, having swept away his previous dejection.

Although he had been injured in this battle, the victory of Martial Soul Hall filled him with heartfelt pride.

Gu Sheng walked at the very end of the team.

He had changed into a clean, black martial outfit.

The collar was slightly open, revealing the perfect lines of his collarbone.

The instant he stepped into the venue, the gazes of over twenty thousand spectators converged upon him in a single heartbeat.

Within those gazes were terror of the unknown, awe for the strong, and burning adoration.

Gu Sheng remained expressionless.

He ignored these complex stares, walking with composure to his designated spot before standing quietly.

In the royal viewing gallery.

Xue Qinghe sat upright in his chair, his gaze locked firmly onto Gu Sheng.

The corners of his mouth curled upward, almost imperceptibly.

On the high platform, the previously noisy scene suddenly fell silent.

Bibi Dong slowly rose from the Pope's throne, walking with elegant steps toward the podium.

Her movements were not fast, yet every step she took carried an aura of nobility.

All clamor subsided at this moment.

Her Eminence the Pope was going to personally present the awards to the champions of this tournament.

This was the highest honor in the entire spirit master world.

Meanwhile, outside the lounge of Shrek Academy.

A deacon of Martial Soul Hall raised his hand and knocked lightly on the door.

"Shrek Academy, the award ceremony has begun. Please have all team members enter."

The deacon's voice was formulaic, devoid of any emotional color.

Inside the room, Flender did not move; he continued to stare out the window, saying nothing.

Yu Xiaogang slowly raised his head.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his voice was terribly hoarse.

"Flender."

"Take the children out there."

"Even though we lost the match, we cannot lose our final shred of backbone."

Flender closed his eyes in pain, then took a deep breath and turned around.

He looked at the dejected children, trying his best to make his voice sound gentle.