Time, like a flowing river, never paused.
Three years passed since the awakening of the Blackstone Abyss Hammer, and East Sea City saw the growth of a youth whose name was slowly returning prestige to the once-stagnant Clear Flow Clan.
Qiang Ming had changed—but not in the way some boys did when they were granted wealth and power. He did not grow loud. Instead, his quiet calm remained, sharpening like a blade refined in darkness. His gaze, once soft and inquisitive, now carried an edge—an invisible pressure that weighed on those who met it.
His purple eyes, strange and piercing, reflected an unusual sense of control, like a young sovereign who had already seen too much.
Yet his face remained boyish. His black hair, still tied back in a traditional warrior's tail, was streaked now with natural purple highlights—clear markings of his Martial Soul's influence. His limbs were long and sturdy, and his posture always disciplined, almost elegant. Even his walk exuded silent confidence.
But perhaps more important than how Qiang Ming looked was the woman who shaped the boy he became.
Her name was Su Yang.
A golden-haired woman with wide green eyes, she moved through the Clear Flow manor like a celestial flame—calm, powerful, and utterly untouchable. At just under thirty years of age, she was a Rank 58 Soul King, a Two-Word Battle Armor Master, and, to the surprise of many, a Six-Star Blacksmith registered with the Forgemaster's Guild.
She had been hired at a great cost by Duke Qiang Shen himself. Her role? More than a tutor. She was Qiang Ming's mentor in spirit, battle, refinement—and above all, self.
~Flashback~
"I don't care if your hammer can split the heavens," Su Yang had said on their second month together. "If all it does is break, then you're no better than a dumb beast."
They stood before a blazing forge deep in the northern halls of the manor. Su Yang wore a leather apron over her robes, her delicate fingers already blackened with soot. She handed him a raw metal ingot, etched with spiritual veins.
"Blacksmithing," she continued, "isn't just about making things. It's about understanding your hammer. About focus, control, temperance. Do you think your Martial Soul enjoys being a tool of destruction all the time? Use it to create. And you'll discover sides of it you never imagined."
Qiang Ming had stared at the ingot for a moment. Then he nodded.
And so began his second cultivation path—Forging.
Now, at the age of nine, Qiang Ming was no mere noble heir.
He was a refined practitioner of the hammer.
His Martial Spirit had reached Rank 21, and his combat prowess had already outclassed many of the adult guards stationed around the manor. Yet he rarely used his full strength.
Only Su Yang had seen it.
In their daily spars, she challenged him relentlessly. Her Battle Armor gave her superior defense and mobility. Yet Qiang Ming had something else—a hammer strike that defied conventional power.
"Show me the technique," Su Yang called one evening as they faced off in the central courtyard. A dome of reinforced barriers surrounded them.
Qiang Ming's yellow soul ring pulsed once.
He raised the Blackstone Abyss Hammer and took a wide stance. Purple light began to leak from the hammer's surface, curling around the weapon like steam rising from boiling mercury. The glow grew brighter, more intense, coalescing toward the hammer's core.
Su Yang narrowed her eyes. "You've been holding back, haven't you?"
Qiang Ming smiled slightly, then whispered, "Soulquake Blow."
He stepped forward.
Then swung.
The hammer struck the ground with a detonating pulse—not from the force of the impact, but from the concentrated energy that exploded outward in a shockwave. The barrier around the training ground flickered violently as the stone cracked beneath Su Yang's feet.
She crossed her arms defensively her soul energy rousing up in protection.
BOOM.
Even she was pushed back two steps.
When the light faded, Su Yang laughed—not with mockery, but with genuine satisfaction.
"Finally," she said, brushing dust from her shoulder. "You're learning to listen to your Martial Soul. That wasn't brute force—that was will. That was rhythm."
Qiang Ming exhaled slowly, lowering the hammer.
His soul ring dimmed. His expression was calm. But deep inside, something had clicked.
And in the dark corners of his spirit sea, the second ring—still hidden from the world—stirred faintly.
In private, Su Yang once remarked to Qiang Shen, "He's a forgemaster in the making. But more than that, he's someone who could change the temperament of the Clear Flow inheritance. It's not just about power anymore. It's about balance. He creates. He destroys. That hammer of his… it might be more than a Martial Soul. It might be a key."
The Duke did not reply.
But he began making preparations.
For enrollment.
For challenge.
For the next stage of Qiang Ming's path.