Chen Yu stood in the village square, the morning sun barely breaking through a thick layer of clouds that hung low over the village. The air was heavy, carrying the scent of rain and the faint tang of incense from the platform where Spirit Sage Liu Mei waited. The crowd was larger than the day before, villagers packed tightly around the square, their whispers a constant buzz. Word of Chen Yu's level six soul power and mysterious martial soul had spread, and now every eye was on him, expectant, curious, and—worst of all—judging. His chest hummed, the sphere's presence restless, as if it knew what was coming.
Instructor Gao Lin stood to Liu Mei's left, his sharp gaze fixed on Chen Yu, while Liang Hao fidgeted beside him, his usual grin replaced by a nervous twitch. The platform was bare except for a single crystal orb, larger than the one used in the awakening ceremony, its surface etched with faint runes that glowed softly. Chen Yu's stomach twisted. This wasn't a simple soul power test. Liu Mei's presence, the orb, the crowd—it all screamed scrutiny, and he was the target.
"Chen Yu," Liu Mei called, her voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade. "Step forward. Today, we examine your martial soul in detail. Spirit Hall requires a full understanding of your potential."
Chen Yu climbed onto the platform, his small frame feeling smaller under her piercing gaze. The hum in his chest pulsed, sharp and insistent, and he fought to keep his face calm. He couldn't hide the sphere's existence, but he could hide its strangeness—its sentient presence, the way it warped space, the voice whispering *Seek*. If Spirit Hall knew the full extent of its power, he'd be a specimen, not a student.
"Summon your martial soul," Liu Mei said, her tone neutral but her eyes locked on him. The orb in her hand pulsed faintly, as if sensing his presence.
Chen Yu nodded, closing his eyes and reaching for the hum. The warmth in his chest flared, and the sphere appeared, hovering above his palm. Its iridescent surface shimmered—black, blue, silver—swirling like a captured storm. The crowd gasped, and Chen Yu felt the sphere's presence stir, curious, almost defiant. He clamped down on his soul power, keeping it steady, refusing to let the ripple effect leak out. The hum was loud in his ears, and he prayed Liu Mei couldn't sense the sphere's sentience.
Liu Mei stepped closer, her soul power pressing against him like a tide. "A relic-type soul," she said, her voice low. "But its aura is… layered. Complex. Hold it steady and channel your soul power into the orb."
She held out the crystal, its runes glowing brighter. Chen Yu hesitated, his mind racing. The novels hadn't mentioned anything like this orb, but he could guess its purpose: to analyze his soul's essence, maybe even its origins. If it picked up the sphere's strangeness—or worse, the starry void he'd seen in his visions—he'd be in deep trouble. But refusing wasn't an option, not with a Spirit Sage watching.
He touched the orb, his fingers trembling, and channeled a thin stream of soul power. The runes flared, and the orb glowed a deep blue, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Liu Mei's eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward, her presence overwhelming. "Level six, as expected," she said. "But there's something else. Your soul power carries a resonance, an echo. It's not normal."
Chen Yu's heart skipped a beat. "I don't know what you mean, ma'am," he said, keeping his voice steady. "It's just… hard to control sometimes."
She didn't respond, her gaze flicking between the orb and the sphere. The hum in his chest grew louder, and the sphere pulsed, its presence pushing against his control. He felt it—curiosity, hunger, a question directed at him. *Seek.* The voice was faint, but it was there, and he clenched his jaw, forcing it down. Not now.
Liu Mei's hand moved, and a faint glow enveloped the platform, a formation of soul power that made the air hum. "Summon your soul fully," she said. "No restraint. I need to see its limits."
Chen Yu's stomach dropped. Fully? That meant letting the sphere's power loose, risking the ripple effect, the space-warping vibration that had moved stones and vines. He couldn't do that, not in front of her. But her eyes were unrelenting, and the crowd's whispers had fallen silent, every ear straining for his response.
"I… I don't know how," he lied, his voice small. "It's too much. It makes me dizzy."
Liu Mei's expression hardened. "Do not lie to me, child. Your soul power is strong enough to handle it. Summon it fully, or I will force it out."
The threat hung in the air, and Chen Yu felt a chill. He knew what she meant—Spirit Hall had techniques to probe martial souls, to rip their essence into the open. It would expose everything: the sphere's sentience, the visions, maybe even his reincarnated nature. He had no choice.
He closed his eyes, reaching for the hum, and let the soul power flow, just enough to satisfy her without losing control. The sphere grew, its surface rippling faster, and the air shimmered, a faint vibration spreading outward. The platform creaked, and a pebble at the edge rolled toward him, stopping short. The crowd gasped, and Liu Mei's eyes widened, her hand tightening on the orb.
"Enough," she said sharply, and Chen Yu cut off the soul power, the sphere vanishing. He was panting, his head throbbing, but he'd kept the worst of it hidden—no starry void, no voice, just a glimpse of the ripple effect. Liu Mei stared at him, her face unreadable. "Your soul is… unique. Its aura suggests an ancient origin, possibly tied to a forgotten lineage. Spirit Hall will require further study."
Chen Yu nodded, his throat tight. "Yes, ma'am."
She turned to Gao Lin. "Continue his training, but monitor him closely. I'll recommend a transfer to a city academy for advanced testing. This soul is too valuable to remain here."
Gao Lin nodded, his eyes flicking to Chen Yu with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. The crowd erupted into whispers, and Liang Hao shot Chen Yu a wide-eyed look, half awe, half worry. Chen Yu stepped off the platform, his legs shaky, and the hum in his chest pulsed, restless and unsatisfied.
Training resumed, but Chen Yu was barely present, going through the motions of circulation drills and sparring. Liu Mei left the square, her white robe disappearing into the village elder's house, no doubt to draft her report. Chen Yu's mind raced. A city academy meant more scrutiny, more tests, maybe even Spirit Hall's elite poking into his soul. He needed to master the sphere before then, to hide its true nature, but every time he used it, it drew more attention—rogue soul masters, shadows in the night, now a Spirit Sage.
At dusk, Gao Lin dismissed them, and Chen Yu slipped away from Liang Hao's chatter, his heart set on the shrine again. It was risky, but he needed to practice, to understand the voice and the visions before Spirit Hall dragged him away. The village was quiet, the clouds heavier now, promising rain. He reached the shrine, its crumbling walls looming in the twilight, and slipped inside, kneeling on the stone floor.
He summoned the sphere, its glow casting shadows that danced like ghosts. He channeled soul power, slow and careful, and the air rippled, the vibration stronger now. The sphere pulsed, and the voice came again—*Seek*—louder, clearer. A vision flashed: the starry void, spheres spinning, that bright star pulsing with power. But this time, he saw more—a faint outline, like a gate, shimmering in the darkness, calling to him.
Pain flared, and he cut off the soul power, gasping. The sphere vanished, but the vision lingered, burned into his mind. A gate. A destination. Was that what the sphere wanted him to find? Or was it a trap, tied to the shadow that had chased him?
A low growl broke the silence, and Chen Yu froze. It was close, just outside the shrine, the same guttural sound from the night before. He scrambled to his feet, heart pounding, and peered through a crack in the wall. The cloaked figure was there, its form blurred in the twilight, but its eyes—glowing faintly, like a beast's—locked onto the shrine. The hum in his chest screamed, and he knew: it wasn't here by chance. It wanted the sphere, and it wasn't going to wait.
Chen Yu backed away, his mind racing. Run, fight, or hide—he had seconds to decide, and the rain was starting to fall, masking the sound of the figure's approach.