Chapter 32: The Spectacle of Pride (Continued)
"You little brats," Ye Zhiqiu snarled, taking a heavy, earth-shaking step forward. "You dare cripple my students in the street? I will personally break your legs!"
With a deafening roar, Ye Zhiqiu unleashed his Martial Soul.
"Black Tortoise, Possess!"
A dense, freezing wave of blue light erupted from his body. His back hunched slightly as a massive, phantom turtle shell materialized behind him, radiating an absolute, bone-chilling cold. The temperature in the street plummeted instantly, frosting the edges of the dirt road. From beneath his feet, five spirit rings rose in a terrifying, rhythmic sequence: one white, two yellow, and two deep purple.
He was a Level 53 Spirit King.
The overwhelming pressure of a Spirit King completely snuffed out the arrogant flames of the three Shrek boys. Dai Mubai staggered backward, his white tiger aura flickering weakly against the crushing weight of Ye Zhiqiu's freezing spirit power. Tang San gritted his teeth, feeling his Blue Silver Grass begin to frost over, while Ma Hongjun's phoenix flames actively shrank back.
Ye Zhiqiu crossed his arms over his armored chest, his eyes burning with fury.
"You think you are geniuses because you have thousand-year rings?" the Spirit King spat, his voice echoing in the cold air. "I will teach you what true power is. Come at me, all of you! If you can break my Black Tortoise defense, I will let this matter go. If you cannot, you will all kneel and apologize to my academy!"
Ye Zhiqiu looked past the three boys, his gaze landing on the rest of the Shrek students standing near the tavern doors. "The rest of your little gang can join in, too. I don't care how many of you there are!"
Hearing the challenge, Dai Mubai, Tang San, and Ma Hongjun immediately looked back over their shoulders.
They expected to see Zhu Zhuqing already in motion. They expected to hear Oscar chanting his sausage incantations. They expected Ning Rongrong's pagoda to be glowing with support buffs.
Instead, they saw nothing.
Oscar, Ning Rongrong, Xiao Wu, and Zhu Zhuqing were standing perfectly still on the tavern porch, their arms crossed or hanging loosely at their sides. And standing slightly in front of them was Bai Ming, entirely unbothered, his hands clasped behind his back as if he were watching a mildly entertaining street play.
"What are you doing?!" Dai Mubai yelled, his royal pride completely fracturing under the sheer panic of facing a Spirit King. "Get out here! He's Level 53! We need Rongrong's buffs and Oscar's supply! We are a team!"
Tang San also frowned deeply, his eyes locking onto Xiao Wu, silently urging her to step forward and help him execute a combined assault.
Before anyone on the porch could move or speak, Bai Ming slowly shook his head.
"A team?" Bai Ming's smooth, metallic voice cut through the freezing tension like a heated blade. He didn't raise his voice, but the absolute, crushing authority in his tone made everyone in the street pause.
Bai took a single, slow step off the porch.
"You did not fight as a team," Bai stated, his pitch-black eyes locking onto Dai Mubai and Tang San with surgical precision. "You three picked this fight without reason. You three decided to use these students as punching bags simply to vent your own frustrations."
Bai Ming's eyes narrowed slightly, shedding the polite aristocrat and letting a sliver of the King Beast's harsh, brutal judgment bleed through.
"You three thought that because you were slightly more powerful than them, you could do exactly as you pleased, crippling them in the street without a second thought. Tell me, Tang San. Tell me, Dai Mubai... if you crush the weak simply because you have the strength to do so, then what is the difference between you and the Evil Spirit Masters of this continent?"
The street fell dead silent. Even the groaning Canghui students stopped making noise.
The crowd of watching mercenaries gasped collectively, shrinking back into the shadows. In the world of Douluo Dalu, "Evil Spirit Master" was the absolute worst insult a person could hurl. Evil Spirit Masters were blood-sucking, psychotic murderers who operated entirely on the belief that the strong could harvest the weak. To lump students of a legitimate academy in with those monsters was a devastating, unforgivable accusation.
Tang San's face turned completely red, his fists trembling with fury. His Tang Sect teachings justified his actions—he only attacked those who provoked him. But the mirror Bai Ming was holding up was terrifyingly clear. Dai Mubai looked equally enraged, his tiger claws extending.
"We are not Evil Spirit Masters!" Dai Mubai roared, his pride entirely wounded. "They insulted us first! The Shrek Academy motto is clear! 'A Spirit Master who doesn't dare to cause trouble is mediocre!' We are just not afraid of causing a ruckus!"
"We aren't evil," Tang San added, his voice cold and defensive. "We are simply defending our pride."
Bai Ming stared at them for a long, agonizing moment. Then, a slow, dark, highly mocking smile spread across his face.
"I see," Bai murmured softly, the sound carrying effortlessly to their ears. "You are simply brave warriors, unafraid of causing trouble."
Bai Ming gestured elegantly toward the towering, furious Spirit King standing right behind them.
"Then you can also deal with the consequences yourselves," Bai declared flawlessly, entirely dismissing their excuses. "If you are so brave, why are you begging us to face your consequences for you? You wanted a ruckus. You have one. Enjoy."
Bai Ming's cold, absolute refusal to help hung in the air, completely shattering whatever remaining confidence Tang San, Dai Mubai, and Ma Hongjun had.
A deep, booming laugh suddenly erupted from the center of the street. Ye Zhiqiu threw his head back, highly amused by the internal fracture of the Shrek Academy students.
"HAHAHA! Well said, young man!" Ye Zhiqiu mocked, pointing a thick, frost-covered finger at Dai Mubai. "Even your own teammate has the sense to recognize foolishness when he sees it! You three are nothing but arrogant brats who don't know the immensity of heaven and earth. If your friends won't help you, then prepare to have your legs broken!"
"Shut up!" Dai Mubai roared, his pride pushed entirely past its breaking point. "White Tiger, Intense Light Wave!"
Dai Mubai didn't hold back. His second spirit ring flared, and a massive sphere of blinding, highly condensed white light erupted from his mouth, shooting directly at the Spirit King.
"Phoenix Fire Wire!" Ma Hongjun screamed, his purple ring glowing as he unleashed a torrent of ultra-hot crimson flames to merge with Dai Mubai's attack.
Tang San's eyes flashed purple. Dozens of thick, venomous Blue Silver Grass vines burst from the frozen dirt, completely wrapping around Ye Zhiqiu's legs to lock him in place for the incoming bombardment.
It was a perfectly coordinated, maximum-power assault from three elite Spirit Elders.
Ye Zhiqiu didn't even blink. "Black Tortoise, Freezing Water!"
The Spirit King's first and second rings lit up simultaneously. A dense, swirling vortex of freezing black water erupted from his turtle shell. Tang San's Blue Silver Grass instantly frosted over and shattered like cheap glass. The freezing vortex expanded outward, crashing directly into Dai Mubai's light wave and Fatty's phoenix fire.
HISS!
A massive cloud of steam engulfed the street, but it only lasted for a second. The absolute, Level 53 chill completely snuffed out Ma Hongjun's flames and dispersed the light wave effortlessly.
Before the three boys could even process their failed attack, Ye Zhiqiu burst through the steam.
"My turn," the Spirit King growled.
He moved with surprising speed for a defense-type master. He slammed his heavy, frost-coated shoulder directly into Dai Mubai's chest. The White Tiger cried out in pain, the sound of cracking ribs echoing as he was sent flying backward, crashing heavily into the dirt.
Tang San used his Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track to dodge a sweeping kick, but the sheer freezing ambient temperature slowed his movements. Ye Zhiqiu simply backhanded him. The force was like being hit by a boulder; Tang San was thrown violently off his feet, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth as frost began to aggressively spread across his clothes.
Ma Hongjun tried to run, but a wave of black water slammed into his back, extinguishing his remaining flames and forcing him to his knees, shivering uncontrollably.
"Is that all the ruckus you can cause?" Ye Zhiqiu sneered, walking slowly toward Tang San, who was struggling to push himself up from the frozen ground. The Spirit King's third, purple ring began to glow ominously. "Let me show you the price of arrogance."
Ye Zhiqiu raised his heavy, freezing fist, preparing to deliver a crippling blow that would undoubtedly shatter Tang San's legs.
On the tavern porch, Bai Ming let out a soft, highly annoyed sigh.
He was still holding the delicate porcelain teacup he had brought out from the restaurant. The sounds of breaking bones and freezing water were incredibly loud, and the fight was officially beginning to disrupt his evening tea time.
Before Ye Zhiqiu could bring his fist down, Bai Ming slowly lowered his teacup.
He didn't shout. He didn't summon a Martial Soul. He simply turned his head and locked his dead, pitch-black eyes directly onto the Spirit King.
Deep within Bai Ming's Dantian, the Cosmic Origin Core rotated a single millimeter. He allowed a microscopic, highly condensed fraction of his true, multiversal King Beast aura to leak out—targeting it specifically and exclusively at the man in the street.
Ye Zhiqiu's raised fist froze in mid-air.
The Spirit King's breath caught in his throat. The freezing blue light of his Black Tortoise spirit instantly flickered and died. His pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks.
It wasn't a physical pressure; it was a biological, existential terror. In Ye Zhiqiu's mind, the street, the tavern, and the students completely vanished. He suddenly felt as though he were standing alone in the dark abyss of a primordial forest, staring up into the eyes of an ancient, world-ending predator. His Martial Soul shrieked in absolute, helpless submission. His blood ran cold—not from his own ice, but from the paralyzing realization that if he moved a single muscle, he would be instantly, flawlessly erased from existence.
Ye Zhiqiu couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. He was completely, utterly paralyzed by the gaze of the apex predator standing on the porch.
Tang San, shivering on the ground, looked up in confusion. He had braced for the bone-shattering impact, but the Spirit King was just standing there, sweating profusely, staring blankly past him in sheer terror.
"Alright, that's enough noise for one night."
A heavy, booming voice echoed from the tavern doorway.
Zhao Wuji stepped out onto the porch, wiping foam from his beard after finishing his barrel of ale. He glanced at Bai Ming, who was calmly taking another sip of tea, and then looked at the paralyzed Spirit King in the street.
Following the Shrek motto of never backing down from a fight—and recognizing that his students had been thoroughly beaten—the Vice Dean decided it was time to clean up the mess.
Zhao Wuji didn't even bother summoning his Vigorous Vajra Bear spirit. He simply cracked his knuckles, casually walked down the steps, and marched right up to the petrified Ye Zhiqiu.
"You hit my students. Now I hit you," Zhao Wuji stated plainly.
The Vice Dean pulled his massive right arm back and delivered a devastating, open-handed slap directly to Ye Zhiqiu's face.
CRACK!
The sound was like a thunderclap. Ye Zhiqiu's feet left the ground entirely. The Level 53 Spirit King was launched horizontally through the air like a ragdoll. He flew completely across the street and smashed violently through the thick wooden wall of an opposing merchant stall, disappearing into a cloud of splintered wood and dust. He didn't get back up.
Silence descended upon the border town once more. The Canghui students stared at the massive hole in the wall where their teacher had just been casually swatted, their jaws hanging open in disbelief.
Zhao Wuji didn't even look at the wreckage. He simply turned around, let out a massive, jaw-cracking yawn, and scratched his belly.
"Alright, show's over," Zhao Wuji grunted, looking at the bruised, shivering, and deeply humbled trio in the dirt. "Go to bed. We cross the tree line at dawn, and I don't want to hear any complaining about your ribs."
Zhao Wuji didn't even look at the wreckage. He simply turned around, let out a massive, jaw-cracking yawn, and scratched his belly.
"Alright, show's over," Zhao Wuji grunted, looking at the bruised, shivering, and deeply humbled trio in the dirt. "Go to bed. We cross the tree line at dawn, and I don't want to hear any complaining about your ribs."
The Vice Dean trudged back into the tavern, leaving Tang San, Dai Mubai, and Ma Hongjun picking themselves up from the freezing mud.
On the porch, Bai Ming gently placed his empty teacup onto a nearby wooden table. He let out a soft, highly aristocratic sigh, shaking his head.
"So crude," Bai murmured, loud enough for his shivering classmates to hear. "Applying brute force to a situation that merely required a bit of discipline. Vice Dean Zhao really is far too heavy-handed."
Bai Ming stepped lightly off the porch. He didn't walk toward his battered dorm-mates. Instead, his silver robes glided smoothly across the frost-covered street toward the massive hole in the merchant stall.
The terrified Canghui students were frantically trying to dig their teacher out of the splintered wood. Ye Zhiqiu groaned, blood trailing from his mouth. His cheek was swollen to the size of a melon, but the sheer physical pain was nothing compared to the absolute, lingering terror in his heart.
As the silver-robed boy approached, Ye Zhiqiu's eyes snapped open. He scrambled backward into the rubble, his breath hitching. He knew. The students thought Zhao Wuji was the monster, but Ye Zhiqiu knew exactly whose aura had paralyzed him moments before the slap.
"P-please..." Ye Zhiqiu wheezed, throwing an arm over his face.
Bai Ming stopped a few feet away, his posture flawless, his pitch-black eyes entirely calm. He offered the terrified Spirit King a polite, impeccable bow.
"Peace, Teacher Ye. You have nothing to fear from me," Bai Ming said, his metallic voice smooth and courteous.
With a flick of his wrist, the void-black spatial ring gleamed. Three pristine, glowing jade boxes materialized in Bai Ming's hand. He casually tossed them into the rubble, where they landed softly by the Spirit King's knees. The lid of one box popped open, revealing a cluster of high-grade, blood-replenishing spirit herbs radiating a gentle, soothing warmth.
"A small token of my apology for my academy's abhorrent lack of manners," Bai Ming stated, entirely ignoring the dumbstruck expressions of the Canghui students. "I must genuinely thank you for teaching my peers a much-needed lesson in humility tonight. They were acting like uncultured thugs, and you disciplined them appropriately."
Ye Zhiqiu stared at the priceless herbs, his mind completely failing to process the situation. A twelve-year-old monster with the aura of an ancient god was apologizing to him?
"As for Vice Dean Zhao..." Bai Ming sighed, casting a sidelong glance back toward Tang San and Dai Mubai, who were watching the exchange with wide, humiliated eyes. "You must forgive his overreaction. He is rather overprotective of those two idiots because of their... complex family backgrounds. He fears retaliation from their elders if they are beaten too severely. It is a pathetic crutch they rely on, but alas, it is out of my hands."
Dai Mubai flinched as if he had been physically struck. The mention of his royal family background being used as a shield completely shattered whatever pride he had left. Tang San's fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms as he is angry but also confused as what Bai Ming meant with this?
"Take the herbs, heal your students, and have a safe journey back to your academy," Bai Ming smiled politely at Ye Zhiqiu. "Good evening."
Without waiting for a response, the silver-robed aristocrat turned on his heel. He glided back across the street, his pristine boots barely making a sound on the gravel.
He walked right past Tang San, Dai Mubai, and Ma Hongjun without sparing them a single glance, ascending the porch steps where Ning Rongrong, Xiao Wu, Oscar, and Zhu Zhuqing were waiting in stunned silence.
"Come along, the rest of you," Bai Ming instructed smoothly, leading his designated spectators back into the warmth of the tavern. "We have an early morning tomorrow. The real hunt begins at dawn."