As the last child finished his awakening, the Spirit Grandmaster led our small group out of the hall. The village chief, Old Meng, hurried over, his face etched with a familiar, hopeful tension.
"Esteemed Spirit Master," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "did... did anyone awaken with spirit power?"
The grandmaster gave a noncommittal grunt. "One did. The silver-haired boy. A Book spirit, with an innate soul power of Rank 2." He paused, giving Jin a dismissive glance. "With dedication, he might reach the rank of Spirit Grandmaster in his lifetime. If his luck is exceptionally good, perhaps even a Soul Elder."
Old Jack's shoulders slumped with a flicker of disappointment, but he forced a smile. "Good, good! That is wonderful news for our Holy King Village!"
The Spirit Master simply nodded, making a few notes about Jin's martial soul before striding away, his duty here clearly finished. He was already on his way to the next village.
After a moment, the chief walked over and placed a warm, wrinkled hand on my head. "Work hard in the future, Jin," he said, his voice a mixture of genuine encouragement and quiet pity. "Our village might finally have a Spirit Grandmaster to protect it."
"Mhm, Chief. I will work hard to become powerful," I replied, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. I could feel the old man's emotions through a sense that was not quite my own—he felt hope for my supposed innate power, but also a deep pity for the misfortune that clung to me like a shroud. He didn't know the half of it. My mind was already leagues away, grappling with a far greater fear: the unknown source of my own soul.
As someone said "The greatest fear of mankind is Fear of Unknown"
"The primary soul master academy will begin its enrollment in two months. I will handle the arrangements for you," the chief said, giving my head one last pat before turning to head home.
I walked back to my isolated stone house, the familiar weight of fear a heavier cloak than usual. Inside, I collapsed onto the wooden bed, the powerlessness I felt a suffocating pressure. I knew nothing about my martial souls.
'It should be impossible for me to awaken such powerful spirits,' I thought, my mind racing. 'The memories of the original Jin are clear on this: his mother was a commoner with an ordinary Book martial soul. And his father...'
A sharp, splitting pain lanced through my skull, as if a dam had burst deep within my consciousness. Suddenly, memories that were not my own—memories that had been suppressed by the sheer weight of my 40-year past life—flooded my mind.
His father's face. His name. His martial soul. I remembered it all now. And I remembered why I had forgotten. The original Jin hadn't just died; he had died in agony, his mind collapsing under a terrible, unexplainable psychic pressure that had plagued him his entire, unlucky life. The fear I felt deepened into a cold, chilling dread. The curse in this bloodline wasn't just misfortune; it was fatal.
After what felt like an eternity, the pain subsided, leaving me trembling but with a new, terrifying clarity. I sat up and, with a thought, summoned my martial soul. The simple, worn book appeared, floating silently before me. Looking at it now, with the knowledge of my past life, a name sprang to mind.
'The Book of Misfortune... one of Han Jue's main dharma treasures.' The recognition was instant, but it made no sense. 'How? It's illogical. A martial soul can't just mutate into a conceptual weapon from another universe, especially one that was above the level of a normal god.'
As if in answer to my thoughts, a wave of information flooded my brain, emanating not from my memory, but from the souls themselves, explaining their fundamental nature.
The Book of Misfortune: This soul is the crystallization of a generational curse, given form by a foreign primordial energy. It can be used to curse anything, from physical objects to abstract concepts. Using its power consumes soul power. Cursing a target too powerful or for too long without sufficient strength will result in a backlash that drains the user's lifeforce and damages their cultivation foundation.
The Primordial Judgmental Sword: This soul is the manifestation of primordial energy, shaped by the need to balance and judge the curse. It will not allow any foreign object or external spiritual effect to contaminate its vessel (the user's body). Until its wielder reaches a sufficient level of strength and moral clarity, it will actively suppress any action it deems "unjust" or "evil."
I fell back onto the bed, a cold sweat beading on my forehead. The pieces were falling into place, painting a horrifying picture.
'My strength is not nearly enough to understand the true origin of these powers,' I concluded, my heart pounding with a familiar, justified paranoia. 'And the rules... I have to be careful. I can't just curse my enemies to death, or the backlash will kill me first. If these souls were truly given to me by some malevolent entity from beyond this world, then every use of their power could be leading me into a greater trap.'
They had the appearance of Han Jue's legendary treasures, but I understood now. They were fundamentally different, a unique and terrifying fusion of a primordial soul and an ancient curse. My own personal, ticking time bomb.
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The next morning, I woke up and completed my morning schedule with the practiced efficiency of my past life. The dull headache from yesterday's awakening had subsided, replaced by a low thrum of energy—the new, settled power within my soul.
I sat on the edge of my bed and focused my will inward. With a thought, I summoned my second Martial Soul.
The air in the small stone house grew instantly cold, heavy with an ancient, terrifying pressure. The Primordial Judgmental Sword appeared in my hand. It was beautiful, a simple blade of dark, unreflective metal, yet it felt like the absolute center of reality. The moment it manifested, I felt my soul power draining away like water from a sieve. One second, two seconds… the flow was a torrent. At ten seconds, I was already feeling light-headed. At fifteen, my vision began to swim.
With a gasp, I quickly dispersed the Martial Soul, sending it back into the depths of my spirit. I stumbled back onto the bed, breathing heavily.
'My soul power has recovered to Rank 3 overnight, likely due to the purity of this body,' I calculated, my mind racing. 'At this rate, I should recover the power I lost yesterday within a week. But the consumption... it's unsustainable. With my current Rank 3 soul power, I can only manifest the sword for about eighteen seconds. After I reach Rank 10, if my calculations are correct, I might be able to sustain it for a full minute. One minute. That is the only window I have to fight, to survive.'
I clenched my fists. 'And my martial soul's information was clear. I can only absorb rings from beasts the sword deems "evil." That means I need to become a hunter. Which means I need to learn how to fight. I have to master swordsmanship.'
Knock, knock.
The sound from the wooden door startled me. I immediately smoothed my expression, composing myself before opening it. It was Elara, a bright smile on her face.
"Congratulations, Jin! You can officially become a Soul Master now!" she cheered.
For a fleeting moment, a genuine warmth spread through my chest. Maybe, just maybe, I could overcome the challenges of this world.
Elara puffed out her chest playfully. "From now on, you have to call me Senior Elara. I'm your senior now!"
'From the original Jin's memories, Elara is one year older,' I recalled. 'She awakened a Fire Fox martial soul with an innate soul power of Rank 5. A true talent.'
"Then, Senior Elara," I said, offering a small, practiced smile, "you will have to take care of your junior in the future." It felt strange calling a little girl 'senior,' but in this world of power, she had earned the title.
Her smile widened, clearly delighted. "Of course! As your senior, I'll protect you!"
We joked for a few more minutes, her cheerful energy a stark contrast to the cold, calculating thoughts swirling in my own mind. After she left, the warmth of the interaction faded, replaced by the grim reality of my situation.
I closed the door, the solitude a welcome comfort.
'The training starts now,' I thought, my gaze hardening. 'Two months until the academy begins. I have no skills, a useless public martial soul, and my only weapon is a blade I can barely hold for a minute. There is no time to waste.'