"It seems Sect Master Ning truly has a discerning eye."
Salas suddenly turned his gaze toward Ning Fengzhi and remarked quietly, "You favored this team from the very beginning. You must have known their team leader before the match, didn't you?"
"Why not introduce me to him?"
"I'm truly ashamed—I've only met him once." Ning Fengzhi shook his head with a noncommittal smile. "I merely wished to kindly remind Your Excellency the Bishop that Edward is not an easy man to deal with."
His words carried a subtle implication.
As the leader of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, one of the top three sects, Ning Fengzhi's relationship with Spirit Hall was complicated—an unspoken hostility, yet neither side openly crossed the line.
Simply put, they coexisted in veiled opposition, neither invading the other's territory.
Of course, if given the chance, Spirit Hall would not hesitate to suppress—or even eradicate—the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect. The reverse was also true.
This was not a matter of personal grudges but collective interests. Sacrifices were inevitable.
For now, both sides exercised restraint.
Underhanded schemes were one thing, but outright confrontation was another.
Ning Fengzhi's warning, however, was not born of fear that Xiao Tianyang might be recruited by Spirit Hall.
Rather, it was a calculated move.
Given Xiao Tianyang's temperament, Salas would only meet resistance.
Ning Fengzhi knew this well—and so, he played his hand in reverse.
The thought of his old rival returning disgruntled, humiliated, was deeply satisfying.
Even at his age and status, Ning Fengzhi retained a hint of childlike mischief.
But one had to admit—his judgment of character was sharp.
Or perhaps Salas simply hadn't anticipated it.
Almost immediately after Ning Fengzhi's words, Salas scoffed, "Sect Master Ning need not concern himself with this matter!"
….
Meanwhile, on the other side…Tang San and the others wore dazed expressions.
They could accept Edward's overwhelming combat prowess—after all, they had experienced it firsthand.
But if even his teammates were this terrifying… what did that mean for the four of them combined?
"How did she even manage this?" Ning Rongrong murmured, disbelief in her eyes. "Did any of you see it?"
"Not at all." Zhu Zhuqing pressed her lips together. "I only saw her third spirit ring flash, followed by her second… then the match was over."
"Same here!" Ma Hongjun and Oscar blurted in unison.
The two exchanged glances—a moment of camaraderie that sent a chill down Dai Mubai's spine.
"That must have been a mental-type attack," Tang San said gravely after regaining his composure. "Baixue's martial soul is likely a special variant tied to spiritual power. The attack was formless—nearly impossible to perceive with the naked eye."
"Then how did you see it?" Dai Mubai asked, surprised.
"Have you forgotten? My eyes aren't like yours." Tang San's tone was meaningful.
The group froze before recalling—Tang San's vision had been enhanced by immortal herbs.
Of course, what they didn't know was that while the herbs played a role, the true foundation was his Purple Demon Eye.
No herb alone could grant such a leap without a solid base.
"Is there any way to defend against this kind of attack?" Zhu Zhuqing asked, her expression solemn.
Even knowing Edward was Xiao Tianyang, she still wished to face him—and his team—on the arena.
"Not yet." Tang San glanced at Xiao Tianyang. "Brother Tianyang, any ideas?"
"Ah, you're overcomplicating things." Xiao Tianyang rubbed his forehead. "Spiritual power is still an extension of the soul. You've all taken immortal herbs—your souls are far stronger than ordinary soul masters."
"If You and the others stay vigilant, resisting this move shouldn't be too difficult." He paused, then sighed. "And honestly, you're overestimating the wrong people."
"Who are the students of Canghui Academy? What level are they? Comparing yourselves to them is just absurd."
The group snapped back to reality.
Xiao Tianyang was right—they'd been too quick to assume the worst.
Or rather, Baixue's display had shaken them.
Truthfully, even Xiao Tianyang had struggled the first time he faced such an attack.
But as he said—while mental assaults were deadly if unprepared, with even minimal spiritual defense, they wouldn't collapse instantly like Canghui's students.
"Brother Tianyang is right. We don't need to fear Edward excessively." Tang San suddenly spoke up.
'Huh? Did I say that?' Xiao Tianyang blinked, baffled.
Had Tang San misunderstood him?
"First, we can field seven members—they only have four. That's an advantage."
Tang San continued, oblivious to Xiao Tianyang's expression. "Second, given their past behavior, even if we faced them, they likely wouldn't all participate."
"And third… this isn't our advantage, but it benefits us."
"What is it?" Xiao Tianyang asked.
"Spirit Hall." A faint smirk curled Tang San's lips. "Our performance has been impressive, but the Whitebeard Team is even more eye-catching. With them drawing Spirit Hall's attention, Shrek Academy won't bear the brunt of the pressure."
"Besides, if trouble comes, they'll target Edward—not us."
The group nodded in realization—while Xiao Tianyang's face darkened.
'What kind of logic is this?!' He'd thought it was praise—only to realize he was being treated as a shield!
Objectively, Tang San's reasoning wasn't wrong.
"But Xiaosan, you're overlooking something," Ma Hongjun cut in. "Last time, even all seven of us couldn't defeat Edward. What if he joins the match?"
Tang San: "..."
After a long silence, he sighed. "That… is a problem."
Watching Tang San's deflated expression, Xiao Tianyang stifled a laugh.
'That's not just a problem—it's a disaster! If I hadn't been holding back all this time, do you really think your little schemes would work on me?'
'After all the training I've put you through?'
Of course, he couldn't say that aloud.
Instead, he offered a consoling cough. "Well, as they say, 'cross the bridge when you come to it.' No need to overthink it. The odds of facing the Whitebeard Team anytime soon are slim anyway."
…
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