Just now, Nan Fusheng had used his third soul skill, directly manipulating the Zheng brothers—Zheng Long and Zheng Hu—into attacking each other.
The power of Spirit Threads depended entirely on the strength of Nan Fusheng's spiritual force. The closer the target was to him, the stronger the effect grew, exponentially.
And with his current spiritual power—even though this was only a projection—when his true consciousness was channeled into it, his spirit strength rose all the way to the Spirit Abyss Realm.
Meanwhile, the Zheng brothers' spirit power was only at the Spirit Connection Realm at best. How could they resist his control? Especially when they had chosen to rush directly at him.
"Impressive. As expected, anyone who makes it into Shrek Academy has some real skill. My name is Zheng Qiaran, ranked 30th on the Young Genius List. People call me Emerald Serpent Zheng Qiaran. And you are…?"
"Nan Fusheng." His tone was calm, almost dismissive.
"Nan Fusheng…" She searched her memory, wondering if she'd ever heard that name, or if it appeared anywhere on the Young Genius List.
But after thinking for a while, Zheng Qiaran realized she had no such record of him. Still, she didn't dare underestimate him.
If nothing else, the way he had so easily taken down her cousins was enough to set her on guard.
Besides, the soul skills of Spiritual-type Soul Masters were infamous for being strange and unpredictable. You never knew what they could do. Underestimating him could very well lead to disaster.
"Then let me test your strength myself!"
Her eyes flashed sharply. A green glow burst over her entire body. The jade-green serpent coiled on her arm shone brilliantly, spitting out a cloud of poisonous mist at Nan Fusheng.
At the same time, Zheng Qiaran's body flattened, sliding rapidly along the ground as she rushed straight at him.
It was common sense: Spiritual-type Soul Masters had strong spirit power but weak bodies, not much sturdier than Support-types. The best counter was to close the distance and finish them in one strike.
Otherwise, if he unleashed some unknown spiritual technique, the situation could turn against her.
Zheng Qiaran understood her own abilities well—her poison and serpent martial soul excelled in group fights. Close-quarters combat wasn't her forte.
But she had no choice. With no teammates at her side, she had to gamble. Against a fragile Spiritual-type Soul Master, her poisonous abilities gave her a natural advantage in melee.
With that thought, she pushed her speed even faster.
"…Wait, is this girl seriously charging straight at me like that?"
The poisonous mist obscured Nan Fusheng's vision, but not his spiritual sense. He clearly felt Zheng Qiaran barreling directly at him.
Yes—directly forward. Not even trying to flank him from the side. Just a head-on rush.
"Gate."
Yellow, purple, purple—three soul rings rose beneath him. This projection body carried his actual soul rings: one hundred-year, two thousand-year. Exceptional, though not yet monstrous.
His second soul ring lit up. A silver vortex appeared above him, swallowing the toxic fog whole.
"Got you."
The moment the poison was absorbed, Zheng Qiaran reached him. Her green light shimmered, hiding which soul skill she was activating.
Her body softened, boneless, and she coiled tightly around Nan Fusheng, binding him like a living rope.
Her right hand turned jade-green, jabbing toward his throat. The emerald serpent on her arm glowed like polished jade, opening its jaws to spit venom at his face.
"I think you're celebrating too early."
Nan Fusheng's voice rang calmly in her ear.
Zheng Qiaran froze. Her hand, which should have struck his throat, stopped dead—barely a fist's length away.
Even her serpent martial soul halted unnaturally, fangs parted, but it was unable to release its venom.
Right now, Zheng Qiaran looked every bit like a snake-woman entwined around him. Nan Fusheng could feel the warmth of her budding curves pressed against his back.
From the outside, the position looked unmistakably ambiguous—if you ignored the glowing green hand and venomous serpent frozen in mid-attack.
"Damn it! What is this ability? Spirit control?! Is this how he made Zheng Long and Zheng Hu kill each other?"
Zheng Qiaran struggled with all her might to reclaim her body. She poured soul power through her veins, but not even a finger twitched.
Her serpent martial soul also strained, but from its feedback, she could tell—it too was trapped, unable to act. She had gravely underestimated him. His ability was even more bizarre than she imagined.
"Well then… Zheng Qiaran, it's been a pleasure. Goodbye."
Nan Fusheng casually redirected her serpent martial soul, making it bite into her own arm.
Poison seeped toward her body—only to be instantly reabsorbed.
"Immunity to her martial soul's own venom?"
He muttered to himself. Zheng Qiaran smirked faintly, but Nan Fusheng just rolled his eyes. "What are you so proud of? I still hold the advantage here."
"Now then… truly, goodbye."
With that, he forced her body to uncoil and slide down off him. As she fell, her soft chest brushed against him several times, making the whole scene even more compromising.
Realizing what had just happened, Zheng Qiaran's face flushed crimson. She glared at him furiously, humiliated.
Yes, she had chosen to coil around him herself—but still! Did Nan Fusheng really not fault this situation?
Before she could direct her shame-filled gaze fully at him, her body hit the ground. Her limbs touched the forest floor, and in an instant, her figure dissolved into light—eliminated.
The rules were clear: once your limbs or torso were all down on the ground, you were out.