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Chapter 4 - Thousands year old soul ring

The Spirit Awakening Ceremony concluded beneath a silent sky. One by one, the children stepped out of the stone hall, their footsteps heavy, their expressions dull.

Most had awakened common tools. Some—nothing at all. For villagers with no status, the ceremony marked either a rare chance to rise or the quiet end of a dream.

Only two faces stood untouched by disappointment.

Tang San, standing straight despite the lingering bruise on his cheek, and Eren, whose eyes held a calm that did not belong to a child.

Outside, sunlight stretched across the dusty square where Old Jack waited with crossed arms. The old man approached at once, eyes flicking from the children to Su Yuntao, who emerged just behind them, scroll tucked under his arm.

"Well?" Jack asked. "How was it this year?"

Su Yuntao exhaled. "Only two with spirit power. The rest… ordinary. Useless for cultivation."

Jack's face sank. "Worse than before."

Su Yuntao nodded. Then, his tone grew sharper. "The first—this boy here," he said, pointing toward Tang San, "despite the swelling on his face and forehead, awakened something that looks like Blue Silver Grass, but twisted. I've never seen it recorded before. For now, I've classified it as Blue Silver Pig."

Tang San turned, frowning faintly. "Who has the swollen cheek?"

Su Yuntao raised an eyebrow. "You, obviously."

The boy's eyes narrowed and whisper to himself. "Then you've already chosen the path to death."

Eren, standing behind them, lowered his head to mask the smirk curling his lips.

Unaware, Su Yuntao continued, "Despite the ridiculous appearance of his martial soul, this boy possesses innate full soul power. That's rare. He may be slow to progress early on, but his foundation is perfect."

Old Jack's expression shifted. "Innate full soul power with a pig-weed martial soul? Heaven really is blind."

Su Yuntao said nothing.

"And the other?" Jack asked, glancing at Eren.

Su Yuntao turned to the quiet boy. "His martial soul is a white lotus—delicate, healing in nature. The energy was subdued, but refined. His innate soul power is Level 3."

Jack blinked. "A lotus?"

"A rare healing type," Su Yuntao confirmed. "Not useful in combat, but in a team, indispensable. Spirit Hall values these kinds of support cultivators."

Jack nodded slowly, then gave Eren a rare, approving look.

"You did well, child. Even if your gift is not for battle, it is no less important."

Eren lowered his head slightly. "Thank you, Grandpa Jack."

Satisfied, Su Yuntao pulled a scroll from his robe and offered it to Jack.

"These are the official quota letters for Nuoding Academy. admissions for villages that produce soul power users. These two—" he gestured to Eren and Tang San, "—have earned them."

Jack took the scroll carefully. He glanced first at Eren.

"You're ready to join Nuoding Academy?"

"Yes," Eren answered without hesitation.

Jack turned to Tang San, but his words caught in his throat.

The boy was quiet, but there was something unreadable in his gaze—something that did not match his age.

Jack sighed. "...I will speak with your father."

Tang San gave a short nod.

As the village square slowly emptied and the dust settled from Su Yuntao's departure, Eren remained for a moment longer, gazing up at the sky.

The scroll bearing his name was tucked neatly beneath his arm. His steps were light as he turned away from the fading voices of Old Jack and Tang San and began walking home.

His pace quickened once he passed beyond the final row of houses. By the time his door shut behind him, he was already at the desk.

The paper and pen lay where he had left them—quiet, innocuous. Yet to Eren, they radiated a weight more significant than any treasure in this world.

He unfolded a clean sheet and exhaled slowly.

There was no hesitation.

In slow, deliberate strokes, he wrote:

[ "My soul power will rise to Level 20.

My first soul ring will be one hundred thousand years old, with no backlash, side effects, or limitations.

This soul ring shall grant me two abilities:

1. Phantom Seal – I may place invisible teleportation markers anywhere. Only I can see or sense them.

2. Blue Phase – My body enters an untouchable state for five seconds, immune to all physical and spiritual attacks, though I retain the ability to strike or interact.

These changes shall occur without disturbance, without detection, and without any lingering trace.]

The final dot landed with the gravity of a pact.

As soon as the ink dried, a heat spread through his chest—gentle at first, then blooming outward like wildfire across his limbs. Eren's body trembled, not from pain, but from the sheer pressure of surging power. His soul core, once shallow and quiet, stirred awake with fierce momentum.

The air grew thick.

The room darkened at the edges of his sight.

Then, without warning, the ground beneath his feet split with a thin, crimson seam—and from it rose a blood-red spirit ring, pulsing with restrained majesty. It coiled upward until it hovered around his waist, rotating in solemn silence.

A ring of one hundred thousand years.

The first in history, and no one would ever know.

Eren opened his eyes. His breathing was steady, but inside—he could feel it.

Power. Sharp. Clean. Silent.

He stretched his fingers and whispered, "Mark."

A faint flash passed across his window frame—gone in an instant. No trace. No aura. No sound.

He smiled.

Just as he lowered his hand, a movement outside caught his attention.

From the window, he saw Old Jack leading Tang San toward the run-down house near the edge of the village. Eren stepped closer, resting his palm on the sill. His eyes narrowed slightly.

The door opened. Jack entered. A few moments passed.

Then Jack stormed out alone, muttering curses under his breath and shaking his head as he walked away.

Eren tilted his head.

"So… the family drama begins."

His hand reached for the pen again, and a wicked glint passed through his gaze. He wrote without emotion:

[When Tang Hao sees Tang San's martial soul, instead of hugging him with pride,

he shall raise his hand and slap his right cheek, sending him flying out the window

to balance the left side from this morning.]

The ink shimmered slightly, then dried.

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