The Monster Is At Least Invincible at the Same Level, Right? What's Going On When You Lose to Someone at the Same Level?

Li Yusong stood in the doorway, the long staff in his hand nearly slipping from his grip.

His eyes were wide as he stared at Zhao Wuji, who had been smashed into the huge pit. His mouth opened, but not a single word came out.

Oscar stood beside him, disbelief written all over his face.

"Teacher... Teacher Zhao..."

Oscar stammered.

"He lost just like that?"

Li Yusong did not answer. His mind had gone completely blank.

Zhao Wuji, a seventy-sixth-rank Soul Sage, Shrek Academy's second-strongest fighter, second only to the dean, Flender.

On ordinary days, he could swagger through Suo Tuo City, and who would not have to make way for him?

But now?

He had been beaten by a young man who looked not even thirty, left sprawled on the ground and unable to get up.

From beginning to end, Zhao Wuji had only been taking a beating.

He had had no power to fight back.

"How is this possible..."

Li Yusong muttered to himself.

He had cultivated for more than half his life, only scraping his way to six rings and becoming a Soul Emperor after turning sixty, while Zhao Wuji was much stronger than him—a seventy-sixth-rank Soul Sage who had once escaped from the hands of sixteen bishop-level Soul Emperors. That sort of achievement was famous throughout the entire soul master world.

But today, Zhao Wuji had been crushed by an opponent of the same level.

He glanced at the young man standing at the edge of the pit, his lake-blue long hair drifting in the wind, then looked at the iron-tower of a man in the pit, covered in white frost and unable to move. His throat bobbed.

"That guy... what kind of monster is he?"

Across the street, Xiao Wu watched the moment Zhao Wuji was knocked into the pit and instinctively grabbed Tang San's arm.

"Third Brother..."

She turned her head to look at Tang San.

Tang San's expression was very ugly.

His brows were tightly furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes were fixed on Zhao Wuji in the pit, carrying an emotion that was hard to name.

Disappointment—no, not only disappointment, but anger too.

"Third Brother, are you okay?"

Xiao Wu asked carefully.

Tang San did not answer. He thought, Didn't Shrek Academy only recruit monsters? If they're monsters, shouldn't they at least be invincible at the same level? Even if he couldn't win, he shouldn't have been beaten like this, right?

Xiao Wu looked at his expression, hesitated for a moment, but still spoke.

"Third Brother... are we still going to join this academy?"

Tang San was silent for a while. He thought of Grandmaster Yu Xiaogang's words. Since Yu Xiaogang had told him to come to Shrek Academy, there had to be some arrangement behind it. So, even if Zhao Wuji and the others had performed worse than that other Shrek Academy, Tang San still chose to join.

Tang San gritted his teeth.

"We are."

Xiao Wu froze for a moment.

"But..."

"One win or loss doesn't prove anything."

Tang San's tone returned to calm.

"What academy has never lost? The key is looking at overall strength."

When he said this, however, his gaze still involuntarily flicked back to Zhao Wuji in the pit.

Zhao Wuji still had not climbed out.

Wu Zhangkong stood at the edge of the pit, looking down at Zhao Wuji from above. There was still no expression on that cold, stern face.

The Sky Frost Sword in his hand gave a slight shake, and the tip of the blade hooked up a money pouch hanging at Zhao Wuji's waist.

The pouch was bulging, heavy, and clearly held quite a bit of money at a glance.

The money pouch was lifted by the sword tip, traced an arc through the air, and landed steadily in Wu Zhangkong's hand.

Wu Zhangkong weighed the pouch in his hand, looked toward Zhao Wuji in the pit, and spoke coldly.

"With that little ability, don't go learning to pick fights with others."

"This will count as your apology."

Zhao Wuji lay in the pit and watched as his own money pouch was taken away. His chest heaved with anger, and he could not help coughing a few times.

"Cough, cough, cough—"

The coughing pulled at the wounds on his body, making him grimace in pain.

His body was covered in sword wounds. Though they were not deep, every single one carried a chill.

That cold had already seeped into his body through the wounds, roaming through his meridians and making the circulation of his soul power unbearably sluggish.

Zhao Wuji gritted his teeth and tried to get up, but after bracing one arm against the ground, he went limp again.

"Damn it..."

He cursed under his breath.

"This cold... is really fucking troublesome."

Zhao Wuji had thick skin and tough flesh; his defensive power was among the best at his level. But Wu Zhangkong's attacks, those ice-blue sword threads, slipped in everywhere, impossible to guard against.

He had not released his Martial Soul True Body, but neither had the other party. In Zhao Wuji's heart, he was extremely wary of this young man, Wu Zhangkong.

He took a deep breath, endured the pain wracking his body, and shouted toward Oscar.

"Oscar! Sausage!"

Oscar hurriedly snapped back to his senses and ran quickly to the edge of the pit, already holding a sausage in his hand as he passed it over.

"Teacher Zhao, here!"

Zhao Wuji took the sausage and swallowed it down in a few bites.

Once the sausage entered his stomach, a warm current surged through his whole body. The pain at his wounds lessened somewhat, and his soul power also began to recover slowly.

But that cold inside him remained stubborn. It was not something a single recovery sausage could dispel.

Zhao Wuji propped himself against the ground and slowly sat up, panting heavily a few times.

"Oscar, go get a healing soul master."

His voice was somewhat weak.

"Huh?"

Oscar froze for a moment.

"Go, now!"

Zhao Wuji glared at him.

"Oh, oh, all right, all right!"

Oscar nodded repeatedly, then quickly disappeared from Zhao Wuji's sight.

Zhao Wuji leaned against the wall of the pit, eyes closed, breathing hard.

That cold was still wreaking havoc inside his body.

By now, Tang San and Xiao Wu had already walked up to Li Yusong.

Li Yusong sat at the entrance, looking at the young man and young woman walking over. His expression was somewhat dark.

He thought these two were here to cause trouble.

After all, their academy had just lost face in full view of everyone. Zhao Wuji had been beaten down, the money pouch had been snatched away, and he had not even been able to fight back.

At a time like this, who would think this academy was reliable?

"You two, what are you doing?"

Li Yusong's tone was not very friendly.

Tang San looked at Li Yusong, his expression calm.

"Registering."

Li Yusong froze.

"Registering?"

He looked Tang San up and down, then glanced at Xiao Wu, his brows furrowing.

"Didn't you just come over from across the street?"

Tang San nodded, his expression turning slightly unnatural.

"The other side... wasn't willing to take me."

Li Yusong raised an eyebrow.

"They weren't willing to take you? Why?"

Tang San was silent for a moment before speaking.

"Probably because they looked down on my Blue Silver Grass martial soul."

"Blue Silver Grass?"

"Mm."

When Li Yusong heard that answer, the corner of his mouth curled into a cold smile.

"Looking down on Blue Silver Grass?"

He glanced at the brand-new academy across the street, a trace of mockery flashing through his eyes.

"Isn't that academy across the way supposed to turn ordinary people into monsters? Don't they say they take in the low and send them out high, take in the high and send them out excellent? What, they won't accept Blue Silver Grass now?"

His voice was very low, low enough that only Tang San and Xiao Wu could hear it, because if he spoke any louder, he was afraid Wu Zhangkong would come straight over and beat him up.

Li Yusong withdrew his gaze and looked at Tang San, the expression on his face easing a little.

"Come, hold out your hand."

Tang San held out his hand.

Li Yusong gripped Tang San's wrist and began feeling his bones.

This was Shrek Academy's rule: applicants could not be over twelve years old, and their soul power level had to be above twenty-one.

"Age qualifies."

He let go and pointed at the crystal ball on the table.

"Test your soul power."

Tang San placed his hand on the crystal ball and sent in his soul power.

The crystal ball lit up, its radiance dazzling.

"Level twenty-nine."

Li Yusong nodded, a trace of satisfaction flashing through his eyes.

"Qualified."

He picked up a pen, wrote down Tang San's information on the paper, then pointed at the money box beside him.

"Ten Gold Soul Coins. Put them in."

Tang San glanced at the money box, the corner of his mouth twitching. They were already in such a sorry state, yet they still clung desperately to money. Him going in was giving them face.

Still, Tang San took a money pouch from his robes, counted out ten Gold Soul Coins, and put them into the money box.

Xiao Wu also took out ten Gold Soul Coins and put them in.

Li Yusong nodded and handed them two wooden tokens.

"Go on in."

Tang San accepted the wooden token and strode into that shabby, run-down Shrek Academy.

Tang San did not look back in Wu Zhangkong's direction. He had made up his mind that he would make that Shrek Academy regret it.

And at that moment, amid the crowd, a figure draped in a gray robe stood quietly.

The man looked to be in his forties, his face covered in stubble, his appearance unkempt. His gaze passed through the crowd and fell on Wu Zhangkong, lingering there for a long time.

The gray-robed man watched for quite a while, then turned and disappeared into the crowd.