Shrek Academy, Dean's Office.
Flender lounged comfortably in the oversized chair within his office. These past few years had been rather leisurely for him. Though he was the dean, much of the academy's daily operations no longer required his direct involvement. Liu Erlong managed the administration, and the responsibility of teaching the students rested upon the Grandmaster, a leading authority in soul master theory.
As the head of the academy, he also no longer had to worry about finances. The Heaven Dou Empire had dedicated a special fund to cover all operational expenses.
Life was as comfortable as it could be. And with Chen Xiaoming holding the honorary position of vice dean, even the Spirit Hall didn't dare stir up trouble for Shrek Academy.
In short, things couldn't have been any better.
Knock, knock, knock.
A series of knocks rang out on the office door.
"The door's open. Come in," Flender responded lazily.
With a creak, the door swung open, and Zhao Wuji walked in, grinning from ear to ear. Over the years, he had refined himself both mentally and physically, breaking through to Rank 81 and stepping into the ranks of Soul Douluo.
Flender cast him a casual glance, initially indifferent, but when he shifted his gaze toward the doorway, he froze.
A figure, dressed in white with silver hair flowing freely, stepped into view. His handsome features carried a faint, gentle smile, like a spring breeze brushing across one's face.
"Dean Flender, long time no see!"
The figure smiled lightly and greeted Flender before helping himself to the tea on Flender's desk.
It was none other than Chen Xiaoming. Seeing the freshly brewed tea and fine tea set, he made no effort to be polite.
After all, he had served as Shrek Academy's vice dean for over five years without taking a single coin in salary.
"Come in, stop hiding."
Just as Flender was about to express his surprise, he felt another wave of familiar energy outside the door. His excitement surged, and he abruptly stood up.
Tang San, Dai Mubai, Grandmaster, Liu Erlong, and the others stepped into the room.
Flender swept his gaze over the six figures before him, momentarily at a loss for words.
Shrek's Seven Devils… they would always be his greatest pride.
"This is a rare reunion; Flender should definitely treat us to a feast!"
Chen Xiaoming had become even more carefree over the years. Every smile and gesture carried a unique charm, making it impossible for anyone to dislike him.
The thought of making Flender foot the bill immediately excited Zhao Wuji. Five years had passed, Shrek had transformed, yet Flender's miserly nature had remained unchanged.
One had to admire his consistency.
Dai Mubai, Tang San, and the others exchanged greetings with Flender, while Chen Xiaoming quietly brewed tea. Five years hadn't been spent idly—somewhere along the way, he had mastered the art of tea-making, using it as a means of cultivation and relaxation.
Rumor had it that he had even discussed the Dao with Tang San's aunt at some point.
"Here, have a taste."
Chen Xiaoming pushed the tea toward them. Tang San, Dai Mubai, and the others sat down, intrigued. Flender's sharp eyes immediately noticed something unusual about the tea. He picked up the cup, tapped its surface lightly with his finger, and took a slow sip.
Dai Mubai, Zhu Zhuqing, Ning Rongrong, and Tang San followed suit, savoring the drink. Meanwhile, Zhao Wuji and Ma Hongjun simply downed theirs in one gulp.
Why bother with elegance? Gulping it down was the most satisfying way.
Chen Xiaoming didn't mind. Whether one sipped or chugged, it all ended up the same way.
To him, the Dao of Tea was about refining one's mind, eliminating distractions. If one's heart wasn't calm, no technique would yield results.
"Now then, as I once promised, I would take you all to the land of the gods. Our five-year agreement has reached its end, so it's time I told you everything."
Seeing Ma Hongjun's eager expression, Chen Xiaoming chuckled softly. He wasn't telling them this for their sake but for his own closure.
With a flick of his hand, a silver radiance spread from his palm, instantly enveloping the entire office.
The light wasn't oppressive—on the contrary, it was as gentle as a breeze. Yet everyone, from Tang San to Flender, felt an inexplicable shift in their surroundings.
"Don't worry. This is just my domain. I simply don't want anyone else listening in."
Chen Xiaoming didn't elaborate further. Five years had passed, and with the deepening of his bloodline's essence, his strength had naturally increased. Was that so surprising? His domain had also grown stronger—was that surprising too?
"Now, listen carefully."
He brought their attention back, his tone solemn.
"This continent has gods. Reaching Rank 100 and ascending to godhood is not a myth—it is entirely possible."
The Grandmaster, who had remained silent until now, suddenly had a glint in his eyes. Rank 100… it truly existed?
"There are generally two ways to become a god. One is to break through to Rank 100 through sheer soul power. The other is to inherit a god's position."
"You don't need to concern yourselves with the first method. Let me explain the second."
Skipping over the first option without hesitation, Chen Xiaoming's words left everyone momentarily stunned. But they didn't question it—after all, if he hadn't told them, they wouldn't have even known such secrets existed.
"The conditions for godhood inheritance are as follows. First, one must reach at least Rank 95 and become a Titled Douluo. Second, one must locate a divine inheritance site. Third, one must pass the god's trial. In most cases, successfully completing the trial allows one to break past Rank 100 and attain godhood."
He raised three fingers. He didn't bother explaining further, but just these three points alone left Ma Hongjun gulping in disbelief.
"Teacher Chen… Rank 95… that's so far away from us!"
Ma Hongjun couldn't help but exclaim. He was only Rank 61—though the gap seemed like just 34 levels, he had no confidence in closing that distance within three or four decades.
Flender and Zhao Wuji exchanged glances. At their age, even reaching Soul Douluo had been difficult. Becoming Titled Douluo? That was beyond their reach.
"Sigh… no wonder Rank 100 is considered a legend."
The Grandmaster sighed softly. The conditions for ascension were so stringent that the first requirement alone eliminated 99% of soul masters.
How many Titled Douluo existed across the continent? The number of those above Rank 95 could probably be counted on one hand.
Seeing the Grandmaster's reaction, Chen Xiaoming remained silent. After all, not just any Rank 95 Titled Douluo could inherit a god's position.
Gods had their own selection criteria—they considered one's martial soul and innate potential. Even Oscar had almost been rejected back then.
Had it not been for the fact that Nine-Colored Goddess had already chosen Ning Rongrong, the Food God wouldn't have handed down his divine position to someone who spouted nonsense about "stiff, stiff golden flies."
It would've been a disgrace to the divine title, stripping it of all its dignity.
His gaze unconsciously drifted toward Ning Rongrong, and he couldn't help but shake his head with a sigh.
"Truly… the best cabbages always end up getting eaten by pigs."
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