The morning haze drifted lazily over the forested edges of Shrek Academy. Shafts of golden light filtered through the leaves, dappling the ground in gentle patterns. The training field, usually occupied by students sparring or meditating, had been cleared and repurposed for something far more serious.
It was the first day of joint training.
Two banners stood erected at either end of the courtyard—one marked with the bold sigil of Team One: an emblem stylized in gold and black, practical and sharp. The other, marked with Team Two's insignia, shimmered with streaks of deep blue and violet—a design recently chosen by Ning Rongrong herself.
Flender stood in the center of the field, arms crossed as his sharp gaze swept across both sides. Beside him, Zhao Wuji wore a bemused expression, arms folded casually. Behind them, Liu Erlong leaned against a tree trunk, her crimson hair catching in the breeze, while Yu Xiaogang clutched a scroll in one hand, scanning it with practiced intensity.
Li Wei stood with his arms at his sides, his blazer jacket swaying gently in the wind. Team Two assembled behind him in an informal line: Zhu Zhuqing stood silent as a statue; Xiao Wu bounced on the balls of her feet, braiding a lock of her hair absentmindedly; Ning Rongrong stood just behind Li Wei, her expression thoughtful. Oscar yawned loudly but earned a sharp elbow from Meng Yiran beside him. Ma Hongjun fidgeted nervously, the tips of his ears red.
Across from them, Team One stood in perfect formation, clearly drilled into Yu Xiaogang's philosophy of structure and control. Dai Mubai was front and center, golden hair shining in the morning light, eyes focused but impassive. Tang San stood beside him, his hands behind his back, face unreadable. Tai Long cracked his knuckles, clearly eager to test his strength. The others—Huang Yuan, Jing Ling, Jiang Zhu, and the unknown substitutes—stood ready, disciplined.
"Today," Flender began, his voice carrying across the courtyard like a rolling drumbeat, "you will not be sparring. Today, you will learn how to move as teams. To breathe as units. The tournament is not won by strength alone—but by cohesion. Coordination. Timing."
He paused, letting the words settle.
"Each team will train under a different instructor. Team One will train with Grandmaster Yu Xiaogang." He nodded toward the man, who gave a slight bow. "His strategy has carried us through many years. Learn from him."
Team One bowed in unison.
"Team Two," Flender said, turning, "you will train under Zhao Wuji. And your captain, Li Wei."
"Well, you heard him," Zhao Wuji grinned. "Try not to die."
Li Wei said nothing at first. He only turned and looked at each of his teammates. His gaze lingered on them—Zhuqing's quiet strength, Xiao Wu's eager light, Rongrong's supportive warmth, Yiran's cold fire, Oscar's loyal steadiness, Fatty's uneasy hope.
"We're not training to pass time," he said. "We're training because we will be watched by Spirit Hall. By Heaven Dou. By enemies, allies, kings and monsters. You know why we're here. Let's make every second count."
Oscar gave a theatrical sigh. "No pressure, huh."
"Get into position," Li Wei ordered, voice firm.
___________
Zhao Wuji blew a whistle. Team Two shifted into formation. Li Wei stood at the front, Rongrong in the rear, her pagoda raised as a support pillar. Zhu Zhuqing and Xiao Wu took flanking positions. Oscar stayed in the middle, with Ma Hongjun beside him. Meng Yiran hovered close to the left flank.
"This isn't a spar," Li Wei said. "It's an execution run. Simulated ambush scenario. We move as if enemies can appear from anywhere. All directions. All terrain."
He raised his hand.
"Begin."
The group sprang into motion.
Zhu Zhuqing vanished almost instantly, blending with the shadows between trees. Xiao Wu flickered with teleportation, reappearing along the treeline to scout ahead. Ma Hongjun took to the air with his flame-enhanced wings, while Oscar tossed speed-enhancing sausages to the team.
Ning Rongrong activated her Nine Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda, beams of multicolored light streaming to each member. Speed. Power. Defense. It was like a symphony, one Rongrong played with serene precision.
Yiran summoned her Serpent Cane, tendrils of poisonous mist spilling forward in controlled arcs.
Li Wei moved at the center, Diendriver drawn.
"Formation hold," he called. "Sweep clockwise. Simulated enemy three o'clock. Xiao Wu, flank."
A blur of pink and silver as Xiao Wu teleported behind an invisible target, delivering a soulbound fracture strike. Her target would be disabled instantly in real combat.
"Rongrong, reduce power to Zhuqing, increase to Ma Hongjun."
"Done," she answered.
Ma Hongjun roared, flames spiraling out.
Zhao Wuji watched with raised brows. "This isn't normal team coordination. This is… near-military level precision."
Liu Erlong raised an eyebrow. "That's what happens when you put a tactician in a fighter's body."
Yu Xiaogang stood in silence. His eyes never left Li Wei.
_____________
Meanwhile, Team One began their drills.
Yu Xiaogang barked orders, his voice sharp.
"Tang San, adjust web positioning. Tai Long, don't push forward without support. Dai Mubai, reserve your spirit power. This is about attrition, not brute force."
Dai Mubai exhaled slowly. It wasn't that he disliked orders—but something about the mechanical way they moved grated at him.
Tang San glanced sideways. "We're efficient. But we're stiff."
"We follow Grandmaster's principles," Dai Mubai replied.
But even he couldn't help glancing at the other side.
Where Li Wei and his team moved like a wildfire.
"Begin again," Yu Xiaogang barked.
___________
Hours passed.
By noon, both teams gathered near the central well for water. Steam rose from the ground. Bodies were soaked with sweat. Muscles ached. Tempers flared.
Oscar flopped down beside the well, guzzling water. "I swear, my legs don't seem to belong to myself anymore."
"Good," Meng Yiran said, tossing him another sausage. "That means you're improving."
"You say that, but my soul says otherwise."
Xiao Wu twirled a grass blade between her fingers. "We're doing better than expected."
"We have to," Zhu Zhuqing said simply. "There's no one else to fall back on."
Ning Rongrong leaned back against a tree, eyes closed. "And we're still behind."
Li Wei approached slowly, towel draped over his neck.
"You all did well," he said. "But the real fight will make this look like warm-up stretches."
"Motivating as always," Oscar muttered.
__________
Across the courtyard, Dai Mubai looked toward them. His fingers tightened at his side.
Tang San approached. "You're watching him again."
"He's training monsters. Not students."
Tang San's expression darkened. "He leads them like they were born for it. Not only that, he had a knack for that."
"And maybe they were," Dai said. "But we're not done."
They turned back to Yu Xiaogang.
"Again!" the Grandmaster commanded.
_____________
As the sun began to dip behind the trees, painting the world in orange and violet, Flender gathered them one final time.
"The first day is over. Your progress will determine your path. Remember: two teams. One banner."
He let the words hang in the air.
"Dismissed."
Team Two drifted toward the dormitories, weary but still alert. Team One lingered longer, quietly discussing positioning and weaknesses.
Li Wei walked in silence. At his side, Ning Rongrong stepped closer.
"You know," she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "you didn't have to take everything on your shoulders."
He glanced at her. "Someone has to."
"We're here too. Don't forget that."
He stopped walking.
The sun struck her hair just right. Her eyes shimmered like soft jade. In that moment, the battlefield felt like another world entirely.
"I won't forget," he said.
She smiled.
And beside them, the wind carried the first distant chime of spring bells.
The tournament would come.
But before that—
They would be ready.