"G-g-give me... a master?" Ren Arakawa stood dumbfounded.
In his heart, he murmured, Tang San had a Title Douluo father, and now the system actually wants to give me a master too? And not just any master—one at the Title Douluo level.
With a sudden ripping sound, the air split.
A figure descended from the sky.
It was an old man, dressed in a pristine snow-white robe. His hair and beard were pure white, and his long silver hair was neatly tied behind his head. His face was plain, yet his skin was as delicate as a baby's, and his expression was utterly indifferent. His eyes seemed to see nothing in the surroundings as he stood quietly without a word. But even in stillness, he gave off an aura as if the entire world revolved around him.
The old man landed with his sword and stepped onto the soil of Holy Soul Village.
Looking around, his gaze finally settled on Ren Arakawa.
He stared at Ren, and Ren stared back at the mysterious old man who had suddenly arrived in the village.
Another swish followed as the air tore apart again.
A man appeared on a nearby rooftop. Without a sound, he leapt down and landed steadily beside the old man.
This second figure was a middle-aged man. His face was handsome and dignified, with a refined and gentle demeanor. He wore a spotless white robe, and though he looked to be around forty, his gentle eyes and modest posture made him appear just like an ordinary man. His sleek black hair flowed freely behind him—effortless, natural, and free from pretension.
"Uncle Jian, is this the place?" the man asked.
"He was here just now. Why is he suddenly gone?" the old man frowned, his voice sharp like a blade, capable of cutting into one's soul.
Uncle Jian? Ren Arakawa blinked. That title triggered something in his memory. In the world of Soul Masters, those with such overwhelming strength, white hair, and the ability to fly with a sword, and who were respectfully called "Uncle Jian," were extremely rare.
A name emerged in Ren's mind: Sword Douluo Chen Xin, the guardian Douluo of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan.
Ren shifted his gaze to the middle-aged man—noble and regal in bearing. That must be Ning Fengzhi, the clan leader of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan.
"By the time, it should be about when children of school age in nearby villages are awakening their martial spirits. Has he already left?" Ning Fengzhi pondered aloud.
"I think he's still here," Sword Douluo said, his gaze sharp and deep as he looked directly at Ren Arakawa.
When passing through this area, Sword Douluo had sensed a strange fluctuation. It wasn't weak, and being someone who lived and breathed the way of the sword, he immediately sensed the presence of a powerful sword-type martial spirit nearby.
Judging from the fluctuation, Sword Douluo concluded that the martial spirit was not inferior to his own Seven Kill Sword.
Out of curiosity, the two men had arrived at the Spirit Hall of Holy Soul Village.
"Level 30 soul power!" Ning Fengzhi exclaimed, eyes locked on Ren.
"Level what?!" Ren Arakawa was startled.
He had only just awakened his martial spirit and didn't know how to hide his soul power. Under Ning Fengzhi's scrutiny, he realized something about his strength.
So that's why the system hadn't rewarded him earlier when he complained! His innate soul power was ten levels higher than Qian Renxue's, so naturally, he didn't qualify for the system's reward trigger.
"Kid, what's your martial spirit? Show me," Sword Douluo asked firmly.
"Sure," Ren said with a slight smile. With a flip of his right hand, a translucent Nine-Hearted Xuanhall flower appeared in his palm.
"Nine-Hearted Begonia?" Ning Fengzhi, whose own spirit was the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda, was visibly surprised.
To him, the Glazed Tile Pagoda was recognized across the continent as the number one support-type martial spirit. But only he knew the truth—that the real number one support-type spirit wasn't his, but the Nine-Hearted Begonia.
So seeing Ren summon what looked like it, naturally struck a chord in him.
"No, this isn't the Nine-Hearted Begonia," Ning Fengzhi muttered. "It looks identical, but the color and texture are clearly different."
Ren's martial spirit looked like the Begonia, but it had no color and was crystal-clear, like it had been carved from jade.
Even though it wasn't the Begonia, Ning Fengzhi could feel that its quality surpassed the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda.
A flash of shock flickered in Sword Douluo's eyes before he regained his composure. "I wasn't talking about that spirit. I meant your sword-shaped martial spirit."
"Sword-shaped martial spirit?" Ning Fengzhi echoed in shock.
He repeated the words softly, then suddenly gasped. "Uncle Jian, you mean… he's awakened twin martial spirits?!"
Sword Douluo nodded with rare emotion.
His eyes blazed like he'd discovered a gold mine, fixed unwaveringly on Ren.
Not just him—even Ning Fengzhi, a man wealthier than kingdoms, stared with blazing eyes.
Throughout history, only two known people had possessed twin martial spirits. One of them was Bibi Dong, the Pope of the Spirit Hall.
If a soul master could possess two spirits, it meant they could hold up to eighteen spirit rings.
Each ring enhanced a soul master's abilities, and nine extra rings would be an immense advantage.
But neither of them knew that Ren Arakawa didn't just have two spirits—he had three.
Which meant, his maximum number of spirit rings wasn't eighteen… it was twenty-seven!
"Son, show me your sword-type spirit," Sword Douluo demanded forcefully.
"Alright," Ren replied with slight helplessness.
Sword Douluo's own martial spirit was the Seven Kill Sword. As a Title Douluo, he was obsessed with the sword. It wasn't surprising that he had detected Ren's sword aura.
Ren raised his left hand. A golden miniature sword floated above his palm.
One side of the blade was engraved with sun, moon, and stars; the other, with mountains, rivers, and trees. The hilt bore ancient symbols—on one side, a depiction of agriculture; on the other, a strategy for unifying the world.
Brilliant light flowed over the sword's surface, and its aura was overwhelming.
Even though it had no spirit rings yet, faint ripples emanated from it.
Boom!
The moment the sword appeared, Sword Douluo felt a tremor from his own Seven Kill Sword spirit. As if something world-shaking had occurred.
"Son, you actually awakened twin martial spirits," Ning Fengzhi exclaimed, staring straight at Ren. "Son, have you two gotten engaged yet?"
"Have you two gotten engaged yet?" he asked again.
Ren and Sword Douluo both froze, staring at Ning Fengzhi in shock.
His meaning was obvious—he wanted to marry his daughter Ning Rongrong to Ren!
"Fengzhi!" Sword Douluo exclaimed in a low voice.
"Ahem!" Ning Fengzhi cleared his throat awkwardly, then asked, "Son, where are your parents? Can you take us to see them?"
"My parents have already passed away," Ren replied.
"They're dead?" Ning Fengzhi frowned slightly.
Marriage was a major event, traditionally requiring parental consent and matchmaking. Ren's lack of living parents made things complicated.
"Son, what is your name?" Sword Douluo asked, his gaze piercing like a blade.
"Ren Arakawa. Ren, as in edge of the water. Arakawa, like a towering peak."
"Ren Arakawa… lush green leaves and vivid blossoms, mountains towering over lesser hills. A fine name," Sword Douluo praised.
Then, after a pause, he added, "It seems today I, Sword Douluo, must insist."
Insist? Ren blinked.
Did he mean… Sword Douluo wanted to take him as a disciple?
(End of Chapter)