The first thing he felt was pain—searing, unrelenting pain that shot through his body like burning steel.
Surya Pratama's breath came in ragged gasps. His hands trembled, his vision blurred. The bus horn blared one last time before everything went silent.
So this is how it ends, he thought, the taste of iron filling his mouth.
He had been just another 24-year-old in Jakarta—an ordinary young man with nothing particularly special about his life, except for one thing: he was a complete novel addict.
His tiny rented apartment was filled with stacks of books, from ancient epics like Mahabharata to Chinese webnovels that could run for thousands of chapters.
And among those novels, there was one he loved above all: Soul Land. He had read every single part, from Soul Land 1 to Soul Land 5. He had even devoured fanfictions—AU stories, reincarnation tales, crossovers.
But unlike most fans, Surya had a special fondness for a certain tragic hero from Mahabharata—Karna. The firstborn son of a goddess, abandoned at birth, cursed by fate despite his unmatched skill and loyalty.
If only Karna had been born under different circumstances, Surya often thought, he would have been a god among men.
The irony was, Surya's own life wasn't that different. Born as the eldest of three in a poor family, he had to give up school early to work. He was never the favored child, never the one people believed in.
And now, lying on the asphalt, surrounded by the smell of gasoline, he thought of Karna one last time.
If I could live again… I want to live like him. I want the strength to stand against the world, even if the world rejects me.
Darkness claimed him.
Warmth.
When Surya opened his eyes, the burning pain was gone. Instead, he felt soft sunlight brushing against his cheeks. He blinked and found himself lying on a straw mat, inside a small wooden hut.
The ceiling was made of rough planks. The air smelled faintly of hay and smoke from a distant kitchen fire. Outside, he could hear the sound of wooden wheels creaking and horses snorting.
His mind was still hazy, but the moment he sat up, a sharp clarity struck him—memories not his own flooded in.
Name: Jin Yang.
Age: 6 years old.
Status: Orphan, adopted by an old coachman in Red Willow Village.
World: Douluo Continent.
"Douluo… Continent?" he whispered, his voice trembling.
He knew that name. He had read it thousands of times. This was the world of Soul Land—where martial souls defined destiny, where spirit masters ruled over commoners, where Shrek Academy stood as the pinnacle of talent.
And this was the era of Huo Yuhao, the genius of Spirit Eyes.
Surya—no, Jin Yang—couldn't believe it. He had not only reincarnated… he had reincarnated into the exact world he had dreamed about for years.
But excitement was quickly replaced by dread.
He was the son of a coachman. In this world, that meant nothing. Worse, in the memories he had inherited, Jin Yang was known as "the abandoned boy"—his real parents had left him at the doorstep of the old coachman when he was just a baby.
And tomorrow… was his Martial Soul Awakening Ceremony.
"Oi, lazy brat! Get up and help me with the horses!"
The gruff voice jolted him out of his thoughts. The door creaked open and an old man stepped in—a weathered figure with skin tanned like old leather, his back slightly hunched but his eyes still sharp. This was Uncle Ma, his adoptive father.
"Yes, Uncle Ma!" Jin Yang scrambled to his feet.
He stepped outside and was greeted by the sight of Red Willow Village—a humble settlement of barely fifty families. The air was fresh, but the ground was dusty. Wooden houses stood close together, surrounded by small fields of wheat and barley.
Uncle Ma's livelihood came from transporting goods between villages. His only possessions of value were his two sturdy horses and a wooden cart. Life was hard, money was scarce, and people… well, people weren't kind.
As Jin Yang carried buckets of water to fill the horses' trough, he caught sight of two boys watching him from a distance. They were about his age but dressed in cleaner clothes.
"Look, it's the abandoned son of the coachman," one boy whispered loudly enough for him to hear.
"Think he'll awaken a trash martial soul? Probably just a broom or something," the other laughed.
Jin Yang ignored them, but deep inside, Surya's pride burned. In his past life, he had known exactly how cruel people could be to those born at the bottom. But here, such cruelty could decide a person's entire future.
If he awakened a useless martial soul tomorrow, his fate would be sealed.
That night, as the old oil lamp flickered in the corner, Jin Yang lay on the straw mat, staring at the ceiling.
He remembered every fact he had read about Soul Land. Spirit Masters awakened their martial souls at age six. Each martial soul was unique—some were powerful from the start, some useless forever. The number and quality of soul rings would determine their strength.
In the novel, there were cases of hidden potential—trash martial souls that turned out extraordinary—but those were rare.
His thoughts drifted to Karna again.
A hero with divine power, but cursed by fate. A warrior who mastered every weapon, yet was bound by loyalty to those who didn't deserve it.
"If I have to live as Jin Yang," he murmured to himself, "then I'll carve my own destiny. No matter what martial soul I awaken… I will become the Sun's chosen."
Outside, the night was still, but the moon seemed brighter than usual. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled.
And in the depths of Jin Yang's soul, something stirred—a faint golden warmth, like the first light of dawn.
Tomorrow would decide everything.
The Martial Soul Awakening Ceremony would either chain him to a life of mediocrity… or set him on the path to challenge even the gods.
But Jin Yang didn't know yet—his martial soul was not of this world.
It was the inheritance of a hero long forgotten… the legacy of the Sun.