Dai Mubai Arrives!

The school gate was made of stone pillars and iron, imposing and solemn. The bluestone plaque above the entrance bore the four characters "Shrek Academy," carved with bold, vigorous strokes. Beyond the gate lay a main road paved with bluestone slabs, leading straight to the teaching building. Newly planted saplings lined both sides; by next summer, they would have grown into a stretch of shade.

The training ground was laid with thick stone slabs, polished flat and smooth. They provided enough traction without scraping people raw when they fell. Various training equipment stood around it—climbing frames, balance beams, obstacle-course facilities—all custom-made according to Ma Hongjun's designs.

The classrooms had been renovated with new doors, windows, desks, chairs, and blackboards. The dormitories had been reinforced and fitted with new bedboards and bedding, with a small stove in every room so no one would freeze in winter anymore. Though the library was not large, it had shelves, tables, and chairs, and its soft yet bright lighting no longer strained the eyes at night. The infirmary was fully stocked with medicinal herbs, and Shao Xin's medicinal baths and decoctions could be prepared there in advance instead of being brewed fresh every time.

Shao Xin's cafeteria had also been expanded. The stove was bigger, the pots were bigger, and so was the storeroom. He could now cook for dozens of people at once without running himself ragged, even though the academy had only two students in total.

Beyond the hardware, the software had kept pace as well.

The school uniforms had been custom-made according to Ma Hongjun's designs. They were dark-blue, stand-collared jackets with double rows of bronze buttons, complete with epaulets, collar insignia, and cuff decorations. The belts accentuated the waist, while the trouser creases were razor-straight. The girls' version had been designed as a skirt uniform; although there were no girls yet, the equipment had been prepared in advance.

The first time Flender wore the full uniform and stood before a mirror, he froze for quite a while.

Zhao Wuji stood beside him with his arms folded and said in a mocking tone, "Headmaster Flender, are you going off to meet a match?"

Flender expressionlessly said, "Shut up," but the corners of his mouth in the mirror had clearly lifted a little.

When Ma Hongjun stood in the courtyard in his uniform, Oscar circled him three times, clicking his tongue nonstop.

"Hongjun, are you going somewhere to perform? Isn't this outfit a little too handsome...?"

"Don't call it a performance." Ma Hongjun tugged at his collar. "This is combat gear."

He simply would not tell the truth—the design of this outfit had actually come from German military uniforms from his previous life.

Oscar received a set too.

Once the boy put it on, he unexpectedly looked somewhat respectable. His fair, clean face and refined features, paired with the crisp dark-blue uniform, gleaming bronze buttons at his waist, and exquisite badge at his collar, made him look every bit like a young nobleman.

"Little Oscar, if you could stay this quiet and not talk all the time, you'd almost look human." Flender rarely made a joke.

"Headmaster, was that praise or an insult?"

"Figure it out yourself."

The academy's hardware and software had both risen to a new level, but recruitment remained bleak.

It was not that no one came. The ones who came simply did not qualify.

Flender's admission standards were written on a wooden sign hanging high at the entrance—only monsters accepted, no ordinary people.

Over the past year, people had come to apply one after another. Some were from Suotuo City, some from nearby villages and towns, and there had even been one who came from another city after hearing of the academy's reputation. But after testing, either their Martial Souls were too ordinary, their Soul Power fell short, or they were too old and had limited potential.

Flender accepted none of them.

Zhao Wuji privately discussed it with him. "Why not lower the standards a little? The academy has been built up so nicely, but there are only two students. It feels empty."

Flender's answer was blunt. "Not yet. We're not short on money now. We can wait."

Better to go without than accept inferior candidates. That was his principle.

Thus, while Shrek Academy already possessed the facilities of an advanced Soul Master Academy, and its faculty far exceeded the standard—two Soul Saints and three Soul Emperors, a top-tier lineup anywhere on the continent—it still had only Ma Hongjun and Oscar as students.

But today, Flender had dressed neatly early in the morning and sat waiting by the school gate.

Today was admission day.

Although he had not recruited a single student in the past year, he had never missed an admission day. Even if there was only a one-in-ten-thousand chance, he would wait at that gate.

Ma Hongjun and Oscar stood behind him in their uniforms, one on each side, like a pair of guardian statues.

Sunlight fell across the bluestone walls, coating them in gold.

"Teacher, will anyone come today?" Oscar asked boredly.

"They will." Flender's tone was as certain as always.

"You say that every time."

"And every time, I'm right. I just don't accept the ones who come."

"Then didn't they come for nothing?"

Even if they came for nothing, they still had to come. Whether I accept them or not is my business."

As Ma Hongjun listened to their conversation, his eyes remained fixed on the dirt road outside the gate.

The newly built walls, imposing gate, stylish advanced uniforms, and the presence of two Soul Saints and three Soul Emperors—everything at Shrek Academy was ready now, save for one thing: an "official advanced academy certificate."

That was not something money could buy.

It required official recognition from Spirit Hall or the empire. Flender had said that there was no rushing such a matter; they had to wait for an opportunity.

At the far end of the road, a figure appeared.

Ma Hongjun's gaze sharpened slightly.

The figure drew closer. At first it was only a blurry outline, but it gradually came into focus—it was a youth of eleven or twelve, tall and slender, far taller than most children his age. He wore a dark, fitted outfit and walked quickly, every step carrying the oppressive aura of a ferocious beast.

As sunlight fell across his face, Ma Hongjun saw his features clearly.

A pair of sinister eyes—blue on the left, green on the right.

Heterochromatic pupils.

The youth's features were sharply defined, and his brows carried a fierceness and arrogance unsuited to his age. His lips were faintly pursed—not smiling, yet not quite unsmiling either. It was an innate expression of looking down on everyone else, as though no one in this world was worthy of a second glance from him.

Ma Hongjun's heartbeat skipped.

The name in his memories overlapped with the face before him.

Dai Mubai.

A prince of the Star Luo Empire, bearer of the White Tiger Martial Soul, the eldest of the Shrek Seven Devils.

He had finally come.

The youth stopped at the school gate. His gaze swept from the imposing entrance to the wooden sign beside it, passed over Flender, paused briefly on Ma Hongjun and Oscar, then returned to Flender's face.

"Is this Shrek Academy?" The youth's voice was somewhat low and deep, unlike that of an eleven- or twelve-year-old child.

Flender studied him, and an almost imperceptible gleam flashed through his eyes.

"I'm here to enroll," the youth said.

Flender did not answer immediately. His gaze lingered on the youth for a long time, moving from top to bottom, then from bottom to top.

"How old are you?"

"Ten. Nearly eleven."

"Martial Soul?"

The youth did not waste words.

He raised his right hand, and a ball of white light lit up in his palm. Within the radiance, the phantom of a white tiger emerged behind him, its eyes wide, fangs exposed, radiating a chilling pressure.

White Tiger.

One of the finest Beast Martial Souls.

Flender's pupils contracted slightly. He had seen many Beast Martial Souls, but there were few who could cultivate a tiger's might to this degree at such an age.

"Soul Power."

The youth activated his Soul Power, and two Soul Rings rose from beneath his feet.

Two yellow Soul Rings.

The most standard kind.

Flender nodded in satisfaction.

Ma Hongjun and Oscar exchanged a look, neither of them particularly surprised.

The Testing Crystal lit up, and the number flickered.

Level twenty-nine.

A peak Soul Grandmaster.

Flender stared at those two yellow Soul Rings for a long time in silence.

His gaze shifted from the Soul Rings to the youth's face. In those heterochromatic eyes, he saw something familiar—not arrogance, not swagger, but the ruthlessness of someone driven into a dead end, with no choice but to carve out a bloody path on his own.

"What is your name?" Flender asked.

"Dai Mubai."