My soul power has already risen to rank thirty? No… It's more than that. If I obtain another spirit soul, my soul power should soar even further.
Nan Fusheng carefully sensed his cultivation and discovered that he had unknowingly reached the thirtieth rank. This must have been due to the portion of sealed vitality within his body being absorbed during his ascension, causing his soul power to spike.
At the same time, his spiritual power had undergone an explosive growth—far surpassing any previous increase.
Sequence Four bore the title of "Half-God, Half-Man." From this step onward, Beyonders were no longer truly human. In both body and essence, they had already embarked upon the path toward divinity.
But Nan Fusheng also noticed a troubling shift. When he ascended to Sequence Four, his emotions had become… indifferent. Not erased, but dulled.
It was like a human looking at an insect—aloof, detached, condescending.
The potion from the Source Castle seemed to lack the imprints left by former users. It was pure. Yes, that was the word—pure.
In Lord of the Mysteries, Beyonders lost control so easily, not just because the very foundation of that world was chaos and madness, but also because every potion carried remnants—the spiritual imprints of previous drinkers.
If not that, then it was the influence of higher-sequence beings upon the lower, especially within the three main pathways of the Fool. The closer one approached Sequence Four, Sequence Three, or even higher, the stronger the pull of the hidden Tyrant Consciousness within the potion, waiting to revive and seize control.
Other pathways had similar issues: high-sequence Beyonders inevitably exerted influence on those below them. Thus, rituals were essential—not only to raise the success rate but also to anchor one's sense of self.
But Nan Fusheng was different. His greatest challenge during ascension was the pain of mental fragmentation and the difficulty of re-establishing his self-identity afterward.
As for any so-called Tyrant Consciousness? There was nothing. Not a trace. It was as if he were the potion's original owner.
Still, the growing indifference was a problem. If left unchecked, then as he climbed to higher sequences, his emotions would only continue to fade—until he became a true god, cold and detached from the mortal world.
That was not what he wanted. He considered himself a man of humor, a seeker of amusement. He had no desire to become one of those lofty hermits who cut themselves off from the world.
"My body also seems to have changed…" Nan Fusheng sensed something different about himself but could not pinpoint exactly what it was. Still, he felt certain the change was positive.
"Next, how should I deal with them?" His gaze fell on the remaining six members of the Water Dragon Team. Should he kill them—reclaim his Time Worms and devour them as nourishment—or let them live?
"Zhang Wuji must not be killed. His family has considerable influence here in Tianhai City, and his talent is impressive. He could serve as a suitable clone. But the other six… they're much less valuable."
Meanwhile, back at the Tianhai Stadium's arena.
Even though Nan Fusheng's group had left, the atmosphere was anything but calm. The excitement had only intensified. The audience erupted into passionate discussions:
"Worth it, worth it! The ticket price was worth every coin. Not only did we see the legendary Shrek Team fight twice in a row, but we also witnessed their defeat! This will be a massive headline!"
"Wuwuwu… my invincible Shrek Team, how could they lose? I demand a full investigation into the Water Dragon Team. I suspect cheating!"
"Oh, come on. Isn't it boring to always watch Shrek win? Think about it—seeing a supposedly undefeated, legendary team fall… isn't that far rarer, far more thrilling?"
"You don't get it! I bet tens of thousands of Federation coins on Shrek to win. Now they've lost… my money, it's gone! (╥﹏╥)"
"Water Dragon Team is amazing! The geniuses of our Tianhai City won't lose to anyone. Even Shrek's so-called legends can't defeat us!"
"Pfft, that's only because these were just Shrek Academy's ordinary students. Didn't you notice two of their members were children, barely ten years old? They didn't even send out their main force."
People's joys and sorrows were not the same. For most, seeing the legendary Shrek Academy finally defeated was exhilarating. Watching a legend collapse was far more stimulating than seeing it endure.
And besides, most of the stadium's eighty thousand spectators were from the Eastern Sea region, many being locals of Tianhai City itself. Seeing their city's talents triumph over outsiders? Of course, they were delighted.
Beneath the stage, however, Shen Yi—who was carrying Ye Xinglan—wore a grim expression.
They had lost. The Shrek Team, undefeated for millennia across the Federation, had lost. Even if they hadn't fielded their strongest lineup, defeat was still defeat.
Suppressing her frustration, Shen Yi immediately checked Ye Xinglan and the others for injuries. Thankfully, they were merely unconscious—no serious harm done.
As for the so-called "Zhang Sanfeng," the host, he had vanished at some unknown moment. Luckily, the staff helped carry the Shrek Team back to the medical room.
Hearing the medics confirm that the students were unharmed, Shen Yi finally breathed easier. But relief quickly gave way to dread—how was she supposed to report this to the Academy?
Shrek Academy had trusted her, yet she had let them down. Their proud title of "Monsters" was now stained.
To her, the defeat was entirely her responsibility. If she hadn't agreed to the rematch, they never would have lost. And yet…
Shen Yi glanced at Ye Xinglan, who had been silent since entering the medical room. She sighed. Though she hadn't known the girl long, she already understood her character.
Ye Xinglan was excellent in every way, save for her stubbornness. To her, Shrek's honor was absolute and inviolable.
This defeat would weigh heavily on her. Without careful guidance, she might very well trap herself in endless self-recrimination.
Shen Yi's heart felt unbearably heavy, but she still forced herself to speak, attempting to comfort her student.
Xinglan… I know this has hit you hard. But listen to your teacher…