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Shanyang Village was a small settlement nestled close to Gu Yun City—home to just over a hundred households. The villagers lived by the rhythm of the sun: rising at dawn, resting at dusk, sustaining themselves through farming and hunting. Life here was simple, quiet, and uneventful.
But today was different.
The sun had long since set, and countless stars speckled the night sky. After dinner, the villagers gathered at the village entrance, lanterns in hand, gazing silently into the distance—waiting.
Their murmurs rose and fell, all circling one name.
Beyond the village gate, a lone figure slowly emerged from the darkness. Seeing the familiar rooftops so close, Junting's tired eyes flickered with warmth. Though Shanyang wasn't far from Gu Yun City, it had still taken him half a day to make the journey back after leaving the city.
At the front of the waiting crowd, an elderly man—the village chief—stared intently down the path, worry etching his voice as he muttered, "It's so late already… Has something happened to Junting?"
Beside him, a woman holding a kerosene lamp patted his withered hand with her free one and chuckled. "Oh, stop fretting, Chief. That boy's never been one to cause trouble. Maybe the Song Manor kept him—after all, he might've become a soul master! Hey, hey, look! Isn't that him coming now?"
Even as she spoke to reassure him, her sharp eyes caught sight of a small, familiar silhouette hurrying down the road. She immediately called out.
Though aged, the village chief's vision remained keen. Recognizing Junting at once, his tense expression melted into relief. Before he could step forward, Junting broke into a sprint and reached them in moments.
"Chief, Aunt Hu," Junting greeted first. Seeing the entire village gathered just for him sent a wave of warmth through his chest. "Everyone… I'm back."
"Good. You're safe."
The words had barely left the chief's mouth when his eyes locked onto the cloth pouch slung over Junting's shoulder. Without waiting for an explanation, he snatched it up, weighed it in his palm—and his face darkened with anger.
"You… you didn't even go through the awakening!?"
The crowd's mood shifted instantly. There was anger, yes—but more than that, disappointment. A deep, aching sense of betrayal, as if their hopes had been carelessly tossed aside.
"Everyone, this was returned to me by the Song Manor," Junting said quickly, realizing they'd misunderstood. He couldn't help but smile wryly.
Without another word, he summoned his martial soul.
The moment the Seven Kill Sword appeared, the villagers were struck with awe—some staggered back, others gasped.
"Uncles, aunts, grandfathers, grandmothers—look! This is my martial soul: the Seven Kill Sword! And my innate soul power… is innate full soul power!"
To the people who'd raised him, Junting held nothing back. He told them the truth, plainly and proudly.
For a full thirty seconds, silence reigned.
Then—chaos erupted.
"Did he just say full innate soul power!?"
"Junting never lies! He really has full innate soul power! Our village is going to produce a powerful soul master!"
Everyone knew what "full innate soul power" meant.
In that instant, Shanyang Village exploded with joy—something never seen before in the quiet night.
Only when exhaustion finally overtook them did the celebration quiet down.
But before leaving, the village chief pressed the ten gold soul coins back into Junting's hands. "Junting, becoming a soul master means you'll need soul rings. The village can't offer much… but these ten coins are all we have to give."
Later that night, alone in his small hut, Junting sat by a flickering kerosene lamp, wide awake.
The awakening of the Seven Kill Sword, combined with his full innate soul power, had ignited a storm of thoughts in his mind—but above all, one goal stood clear: securing his first soul ring.
"Sword Bamboo…"
He unrolled a hand-drawn map showing the mountain ranges near Shanyang Village. While most of the area was home to ordinary beasts, deeper within the mountains lay ten-year soul beasts—and even traces of century-old plant-type soul beasts.
And among them, he knew, was the Sword Bamboo.
"Confirmed. That's my first soul ring."
…
The next morning, with the villagers' help, Junting packed dried rations and supplies before setting off into the nearby mountains to hunt his first soul ring.
Though the range was "near" Shanyang, the actual distance was considerable—likely a full half-day's journey at his pace.
"The Sword Bamboo can unleash sword qi in its attacks," Junting mused as he walked, recalling what he knew. "That alone makes it perfect for my martial soul's soul skillrequirements. As a bamboo-type soul beast, it won't die unless its root system is destroyed. And to safely reach the roots… I'll need to cut down the stalks first, disabling its offense."
"Hope I find one of the right age…"
…
By the time Junting reached the mountain foothills, the sun was already sinking toward the horizon. He decided to camp outside the range for the night and venture deeper at dawn to search for the Sword Bamboo.
That evening, he sat alone by a crackling fire.
The wood popped and hissed in the flames, but instead of sleeping, Junting chose light meditation. Yet just as his mind began to settle, a sharp sense of unease prickled his skin.
His eyes snapped open.
Scanning the darkness with razor-sharp focus, he rose slowly—and summoned the Seven Kill Sword.
Killing intent radiated from him, stirring the unseen presence in the shadows.
From the underbrush, a shape suddenly lunged.
Without hesitation, Junting swung his blade.
Blood sprayed. A head tumbled to the ground.
Only then did he see—it was just an ordinary rabbit.
But he didn't relax. Not even his breathing quickened. His instincts screamed: the real intruder had used the rabbit as bait… and now saw him as tonight's meal.
Somewhere in the dark, the true predator waited—for the moment Junting let his guard down.
Then—his hairs stood on end.
He twisted sideways just in time, slashing the Seven Kill Sword toward the left front.
"Meeeooww!!!"
A piercing shriek tore through the night. Before him stood a small, winged creature—no longer than a foot—covered in pale green fur with tiger-like stripes. Its eyes glowed violet-red, and a fresh gash bled along its flank, fury blazing in its gaze.
Though tiny, the beast radiated pressure. Clearly, it was a soul beast.
"Ten years old? Then I can handle it."
He sensed no lethal threat—only manageable danger.
But before Junting could act further…
Swish!
A sudden strike descended from above. The creature collapsed instantly. A faint white glow rose from its body, slowly coalescing into a pristine white soul ring.
Yet Junting ignored the ring entirely.
Gripping the Seven Kill Sword tighter, every nerve in his body coiled like a spring—tense, alert, ready.
Someone—or something—else was here.
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