The banquet hall on the top floor of the Star Luo Grand Hotel had been converted into a temporary venue for the draw.
Massive crystal chandeliers hung overhead, flooding the entire hall with dazzling light, bright as day.
Representatives from the sixteen teams that had advanced from the round-robin stage stood neatly arranged in the center of the hall. Surrounding them were reporters from major media outlets and nobles of the Star Luo Empire.
A suffocating tension permeated the air.
For the spectators, this was merely a ceremony to decide matchups.
But for the teams present, it was a life-or-death gamble.
No one wanted to run into the legendary powerhouses in the very first round—especially the Sun Moon Royal Soul Engineer Academy team that possessed the "monster" Liu Yuan.
"Quiet, everyone."
On the raised platform, the Prime Minister of the Star Luo Empire stepped forward in formal attire. His expression was solemn as his steady voice echoed throughout the hall via a soul tool amplifier.
"First, congratulations to the sixteen teams here for successfully advancing to the knockout stage. Next, we will proceed with the drawing ceremony for the Top Sixteen matchups."
"The rules are simple. There are sixteen numbered balls inside the draw box, labeled from one to eight, with two balls of each number."
"First, representatives of the eight teams that placed first in their respective groups will draw. After that, representatives of the second-place teams will draw."
"The two teams that draw the same number will face each other in the first round of the knockout stage!"
As soon as the rules were announced, the atmosphere below the stage grew even heavier.
A completely random draw, with no avoidance rules—this meant endless uncertainty.
"Alright. Without further delay, the drawing ceremony begins!"
At the Prime Minister's signal, a staff member brought out a large, fully sealed golden draw box.
The Prime Minister glanced at the list in his hand.
"Will the representative of the first-place team from Group One, the Heaven Dou Empire Royal Academy, please come forward to draw."
A low murmur rippled through the crowd.
Soon, the draw proceeded in an orderly fashion.
One representative after another stepped onto the stage, pulling out the small ball that would determine their fate.
"Heavenly Spirit Advanced Soul Master Academy, Number One."
"Zhengtian Academy, Number Three."
…
Before long, the first four teams had completed their draws.
"Next, will the representative of the first-place team from Group Five—the Sun Moon Royal Soul Engineer Academy—please come forward to draw!"
As the announcement rang out, every gaze in the hall instantly locked onto the young man in red-and-white team attire, his expression calm and indifferent.
Liu Yuan.
This name had already become synonymous with "terror" throughout Star Luo City—and even across the entire soul master world.
As Liu Yuan stepped forward, the representatives of the teams that had yet to draw all held their breath, eyes filled with prayer and dread.
"Please don't let it be him… please don't let it be him…"
"Gods, protect me—let me avoid this calamity!"
Some even clasped their hands together, muttering prayers under their breath.
Even Ma Xiaotao, standing near the back of the crowd, pressed her red lips tightly together.
Although she had already recovered from her injuries, the overwhelming sense of being completely crushed last time still haunted her like a nightmare.
Under the watchful gaze of the crowd, Liu Yuan walked up to the draw box.
He casually reached inside and almost immediately withdrew his hand.
The motion was so relaxed it looked like he was simply picking an apple from a fruit bowl at home.
Opening his palm, a red ball lay quietly in his hand.
Liu Yuan glanced at the number, his eyebrows lifting slightly, then showed it to the referees and the crowd.
"Sun Moon Royal Soul Engineer Academy, Number Eight!"
The referee announced loudly.
"Phew…"
In that instant, the representatives of several teams standing ahead of Liu Yuan—those who had already drawn—let out collective sighs of relief, as though they had just survived a catastrophe.
"Great! It's not Number One!"
"And not Number Three either!"
"We're not facing Sun Moon! There's still hope!"
In stark contrast, the second-place teams that had yet to draw turned pale.
Their hearts leapt straight into their throats.
Number Eight.
At this moment, that number felt like a death sentence.
Whoever drew the other Number Eight would be packing their bags.
Within the Shrek team, Xuan Zi was already sweating profusely.
The chicken leg he had been stuffing into his mouth had frozen halfway, and even his beloved wine had lost all flavor.
"Number Eight… Number Eight…"
He chanted frantically in his heart, praying that some other team would hurry up and draw that cursed number.
He wasn't foolish.
He knew better than anyone how bad Shrek's current state was.
Morale was low. Their mindset had collapsed. On the surface, they seemed to have a full lineup, but in reality, they were strong outside and weak within.
If they ran into the Sun Moon team now, at the height of its momentum, it would truly be a disaster.
It would be best—best if some other unlucky team drew Sun Moon, while Shrek faced a weaker opponent, secured a clean win, and rebuilt these kids' confidence first.
But fate always seemed to enjoy cruel jokes at moments like this.
As the draw continued—
"Star Luo Royal Academy, Number Two."
"Dou Ling Royal Academy, Number Four."
…
One by one, the second-place teams stepped up and drew their numbers.
Every time someone reached into the box, Xuan Zi's heart clenched violently, hoping that Number Eight would finally appear.
But—
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
That damned red Number Eight ball seemed to have grown legs, hiding stubbornly in the corner of the box, refusing to show itself.
As the number of remaining teams dwindled, and fewer balls remained in the box, the sensation of the God of Death closing in made Xuan Zi's breathing turn ragged.
"Why hasn't it come out… why hasn't anyone drawn Number Eight yet? What are these useless idiots doing?!"
Xuan Zi roared in his heart, even wishing he could rush forward and draw the ball himself.
Finally.
It was Shrek's turn.
As the second-place team from Group One, they were among the last few to draw.
"Next, will the representative of Shrek Academy, Ma Xiaotao, please come forward to draw."
Hearing her name, Ma Xiaotao took a deep breath. Her usually tall and fiery figure looked stiff and tense.
She glanced back at Xuan Zi.
His cloudy old eyes were bloodshot. He forced out an extremely ugly, encouraging expression and whispered hoarsely:
"Xiaotao… don't be afraid… just draw… as long as it's not Eight…"
Ma Xiaotao nodded and walked toward the platform with heavy steps.
The short distance of a few dozen meters felt like a thousand jin pressing down on her shoulders.
All eyes were fixed on her.
Some were sympathetic.
Some were gloating.
Others were watching with bated breath.
Off to the side, Liu Yuan stood with his arms crossed, watching the red-clad figure approach the draw box with a faintly amused expression.
That gloating feeling in his heart grew stronger.
"Come on… let me see if fate is really on my side."
Ma Xiaotao reached the draw box.
Her hand trembled slightly as she reached into the dark opening.
There weren't many balls left inside.
Her fingertips brushed against a cold sphere.
"This is it."
She clenched her teeth and, as if surrendering to fate, yanked her hand out.
The entire hall fell deathly silent.
Every gaze locked onto her hand.
Ma Xiaotao slowly opened her palm.
At that moment, time seemed to freeze.
On the ball in her hand, a bright red number stood out starkly—
8.
"Boom!"
It was as if a massive bomb had detonated in the crowd.
The previously silent hall erupted instantly!
"Holy hell! Number Eight!"
"Shrek drew Number Eight—they're facing Sun Moon!"
"Oh my god! Is a 'Mars colliding with Earth' showdown happening in the first round?!"
"What Mars colliding with Earth? More like Mars smashing an egg—how can Shrek beat Sun Moon in their current state?"
"This is brutal! Is the defending champion really getting knocked out in the Top Sixteen?!"
Shouts and heated discussions surged like a tsunami, engulfing the entire hall.
And at the center of the storm—
Xuan Zi.
The moment he saw that number, it was as if a bolt of lightning had struck him.
Clatter.
The wine gourd that never left his side slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor, fragrant wine splashing everywhere.
But he didn't notice at all.
His face was deathly pale, his eyes bulging, lips trembling as he stood there, unable to utter a single word.
"…It's over."