At the same time, six spirit rings materialized around Max in sequence:
One purple, three black, and one red.
The sheer pressure made the air feel heavy. But it was the last ring—the red ten-thousand-year ring—that truly struck fear into the hearts of all watching.
Zhao Wuji's eyes widened in horror as the realization hit him like a hammer. His confident demeanor shattered.
He now understood exactly who he was facing.
Mo Tian—Dean of Ghidorah Academy.
The same man who, despite not being a Titled Douluo at the time, had once killed a Titled Douluo from the Xingluo Empire when they threatened his academy.
And now, here he was… standing before him, calm and composed, while Zhao Wuji had unknowingly challenged him.
A cold sweat broke out on Zhao Wuji's forehead.
He didn't dare make another move.
Zhao Wuji's throat tightened as he took a half-step back, his Spirit Saint aura shrinking in the overwhelming presence of Mo Tian's three-headed dragon.
The pressure was suffocating—not just spiritual, but psychological. A red spirit ring. Only those who had killed or subdued spirit beasts over 100,000 years old possessed such a terrifying badge of power. And now, it hovered around a man the world feared and respected in whispers.
With a clenched jaw, Zhao Wuji slowly withdrew his Martial Spirit. The seven spirit rings around him vanished in order, and the pressure he exerted on the area evaporated like mist under the sun.
"…You win," Zhao Wuji muttered, the words scraping his pride. He turned his head sharply toward Dai Mubai and Ma Hongjun.
"Kneel."
The two flinched, their eyes wide, refusing to believe what they'd just heard.
"I said—kneel." Zhao Wuji barked, his voice now stern, devoid of warmth.
They hesitated—but not for long. Dai Mubai, heir to the Xingluo Empire, and Ma Hongjun, Shrek's fire-user, slowly lowered themselves to the ground. Their knees hit the dirt with audible force. Biting back humiliation, they lowered their heads.
"We're sorry…" Dai Mubai forced the words out through clenched teeth. "We didn't recognize your strength… and we disrespected your students."
"Forgive us…" Ma Hongjun added, voice barely above a whisper.
Max didn't even look at them. He simply turned his head toward Jin Lian, Su Xuluo, and Bai Chao, and said calmly:
"Do you accept the apology?"
Jin Lian snorted. Su Xuluo and Bai Chao exchanged glances before Su Xuluo nodded coolly. "As long as they remember who they're dealing with next time."
Max gave no further acknowledgment to the kneeling duo. Instead, he turned and began walking back toward the inn.
"Let's go. We leave for the Star Dou Forest in the morning. I don't want to waste any more time on worms."
Zhao Wuji didn't stop him. He couldn't. He simply stood there in silence as the dean of Ghidorah Academy walked away, followed by his prodigies—each of them holding their heads high.
Tang San and the others stood frozen, their fists clenched tightly as they watched Max step past them, each of his words laced with a cold, undeniable truth.
"Fix your teachings," Max said, pausing for a moment just as he reached the edge of the stairs. His voice cut through the air like a blade. "Teaching students that causing trouble is strength and those who don't is mediocre. I am merciful... but not everyone is like me. If it had been any other Titled Douluo—" his gaze swept over Dai Mubai and Ma Hongjun, "—they would already be dead."
With that, he turned and walked off, cloak fluttering behind him, his students silently following in his wake.
The atmosphere around Shrek Academy's group was suffocating. No one dared speak.
Zhao Wuji's expression was dark as he looked down at Dai Mubai and Ma Hongjun once more, the sting of humiliation still fresh on his face.
"Go rest," he said flatly. "Think of this as a nightmare… and nothing more."
He didn't wait for a response.
Zhao Wuji turned on his heel and left, disappearing into the corridor of the inn, his heavy steps echoing with the weight of a lesson neither he—nor his students—would soon forget.
As Zhao Wuji disappeared from sight, the tension in the air slowly dissipated—but the damage had been done.
Dai Mubai remained kneeling, sweat beading on his forehead, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. Ma Hongjun sat beside him, his face pale, eyes wide with lingering fear. Neither dared move, humiliated not just by their defeat, but by how easily they had been dismissed—like children misbehaving in front of a true predator.
Tang San finally exhaled, a low breath through gritted teeth.
"…He was too strong," he muttered, barely audible. "A Red Spirit Ring... at Spirit Emperor rank… and that Martial Spirit—"
"The Three-Headed Dragon," muttered Ning Rongrong, eyes narrowed. "That wasn't any ordinary beast. Did you see the pressure it exuded? That wasn't just Spirit Power—it felt like an powerful Titled Douluo."
Zhu Zhuqing crossed her arms. "They said he's Mo Tian. The Dean of Ghidorah Academy. I heard rumors, but… I thought they were exaggerated."
Xiao Wu shivered, holding her arms as if she could still feel the chill of his presence. "If even a Titled Douluo died to him while he was a Spirit King, then… what level is he really at now?"
Tang San remained silent, eyes deep in thought.
Meanwhile, upstairs in the inn, Max sat calmly in his room, sipping tea as his students quietly unpacked their things.
Max returned to his room, the door clicking softly shut behind him. Inside, Rize, Gwen, and Malaika were already waiting—each of them draped in soft silks, bathed in the low golden glow of spirit lamps. This scene was enough to make nay man go crazy, although they are all only 12 years old but in this world peopel marry at the age of 12 as their bodies mature at this age in this world.
" It seems you guys are more eager than me" He said as they all smiled and then Max took the dive and three blood flowers bloomed that night.
***
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