Shrek Interrogated by the Entire Internet: Who Wrote History? Who Compiled the Textbooks? Who Defined Evil?

"Forget everything else for now."

Gu Yue lowered the hand rubbing her brow, and her gaze became sharp and cold once more.

She turned and walked deeper into the Spirit Pagoda.

"First, investigate this era's history. Just how much has changed? Is it merely that our memories have gone wrong, or—"

Her steps paused slightly.

"Or has this world already been altered?"

Di Tian followed behind her. After a moment of silence, he said in a low voice, "My Lord, regarding the Golden Dragon King's bloodline—"

"The Golden Dragon King can wait."

Gu Yue's voice regained the majesty and composure befitting the Silver Dragon King.

"Our top priority is to uncover the Creator God's true nature."

"If that being truly descended upon this era, then everything we have done is meaningless before Him."

There was no fear or hesitation in her voice, only an extreme calm.

But Di Tian could hear it—the deepest apprehension, deliberately suppressed, that surfaced only when facing a truly unbeatable opponent.

He dropped to one knee, pressed his right hand to his chest, and spoke in a deep, resolute voice.

"As you command, My Lord."

Yet deep in his heart, as he watched Gu Yue's retreating figure, there was an indescribable complexity in his eyes.

What he had not told her was this.

In his memories, the Silver Dragon King who had led soul beasts to their pinnacle would never say something like, "Everything is meaningless before Him."

She would roar. She would fight. Even before the Creator God, she would spread her dragon wings and charge forward.

Even if she lost, she would lose gloriously, brilliantly, in a blaze of radiance.

But the My Lord before him was already calculating an escape route.

Di Tian buried that thought in the deepest part of his heart. Then he rose to his feet and vanished soundlessly into the air.

Gu Yue walked alone through the Spirit Pagoda's empty corridors.

She stopped before a floor-to-ceiling window and looked outside.

Slowly, she raised a hand and stared at her palm.

The dragon claw of her illusory self had covered the sky and blotted out the sun, capable of tearing apart the earth, overturning the seas, and devouring the entire world.

And now, her hand was pale and slender, as though it had never experienced battle.

Was this the price of her choice?

She had chosen seclusion.

Her other self had chosen battle, yet lost to an invincible being.

Whose ending was better?

At that moment, the entire Douluo Continent network was in an uproar.

That projection of the past had covered all of Eastsea City.

Hundreds of thousands had witnessed it firsthand.

Hundreds of livestreams had broadcast it simultaneously.

In the footage—

The six-winged angel knelt upon shattered city walls, crying mournfully toward the heavens.

The silver dragon that blotted out the sky unleashed a world-ending calamity.

And there was that figure drifting above the river of time, whose mere gaze brought an era to its end.

Every image spread like wildfire.

The Federation wanted to suppress the comments.

It was far too late.

The top ten trending topics on the Spirit Network had all been flooded.

The topic "Angel God Ninth Era World-Destroying Dragon" was followed by a crimson "Explosive" tag.

The servers crashed for a time.

Comments refreshed at a rate of thousands per second. No one could possibly keep up.

"What level of being was that dragon? It destroyed a civilization with one strike? Among all the god-level powerhouses recorded by the Federation, who could achieve something on that scale?"

"The Angel God said it was the Ninth Era. Ninth! Does that mean eight eras before it had also been destroyed? Where exactly does the history we know begin?"

"The key is what she saw at the end. Did you all see it? That shadow in the sky—I only glanced at it once, and my back is still breaking out in cold sweat."

The discussion spread like a prairie fire, blazing from the Spirit Network into the real world.

Teahouses, taverns, soul master guilds, academy dormitories—everyone in every major city was discussing the same thing.

Just as public opinion was about to be guided toward "A Great Revelation of Ancient Secrets."

A sharp voice stabbed into everyone's field of vision like a knife.

"The Angel God was the founder of Spirit Hall. And we all know who destroyed Spirit Hall ten thousand years ago."

Those words were like a bomb thrown into a pot of boiling oil.

"Sea God Tang San destroyed Spirit Hall, which means he personally wiped out the force founded by the Angel God herself?"

"In the history textbooks we studied, Spirit Hall was described as an evil organization that sought to unite the continent. But who compiled those textbooks? Shrek. And who wrote that history? Shrek."

"If the Angel God truly was humanity's earliest protector, then why were her descendants and her faction defined as 'evil'? Who defined evil?"

"How much history did Shrek destroy? We, the public, have the right to know the truth!"

The spearhead of public opinion began to point toward the academy that had stood at the center of the continent for ten thousand years.

And in the shadows, another force sensed an opportunity.

Holy Spirit Cult accounts sprang up like mushrooms after rain, flooding the comments beneath every trending topic.

"The god worshipped by our Holy Spirit Cult truly exists."

"He is the omniscient and omnipotent true Creator, the one to whom all things return."

"The world has already rotted away. Douluo Continent has long become a nursery for outer gods."

"The end of nine eras is proof! The final end is about to arrive, and a new era is about to begin."

"Only by believing in the omniscient and omnipotent Creator and following the Holy Spirit Cult's guidance can one qualify to enter the new era and become an innate ancient god of that era! Those wishing to join, contact—"

The post was banned less than three seconds after being published.

But new posts immediately sprang up.

Ban one, and ten appeared. Ban ten, and a hundred appeared.

The Holy Spirit Cult's paid commenters were like weeds—cut them down, and they grew back with the spring breeze.

Eastsea City, top floor of the Spirit Pagoda.

Leng Yaozhu sat behind her desk, her long legs crossed. One elbow rested on the armrest while her fingertips massaged her throbbing temple.

On the virtual projection screen before her, trending lists, public opinion reports, records of Holy Spirit Cult post removals, and urgent inquiry letters from major factions densely filled her entire view.

She was the Spirit Pagoda's vice tower master, an Ultimate Douluo, and a four-word Battle Armor Master.

In this age when the God Realm had lost contact, she stood at the peak of the entire continent's pyramid of power.

She had thought she was already accustomed to the feeling of controlling everything.

But now, staring at the urgent communication requests pouring in from conference rooms across the screen—

For the first time, she felt a chill seeping from her very bones.

That image—that figure drifting above the river of time.

She had only looked once, yet her back was still cold.

The Ninth Era.

The final end descending.

The Creator God.

And then there was the pile of chaotic reports submitted below: some speculated that a "Demon Era" might have existed.

Others claimed it was a conspiracy theory, that Shrek had altered and concealed the true history.

Leng Yaozhu tossed the reports aside, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

This world had suddenly become unrecognizable even to her.

"Beep—"

An encrypted communication came through.

Leng Yaozhu opened her eyes. When she saw the sender's name, her pupils contracted slightly.

Sky-Crossing Douluo, Yun Ming.

But that was not the important part.

The important part was the communication's heading—[Federation Highest-Level Online Conference · Emergency Agenda].