Beneath the silver veil of the forest canopy, dusk brushed the world in hues of indigo and gold. The air hung thick with the scent of moss and blood, the echoes of battle still trembling in the silence. In the heart of the Star Dou Great Forest, a young girl clutched the hand of the boy who had just saved her life.
"Brother Qian Yu!" Ning Rongrong's voice rang out, sweet and insistent, like wind chimes in a summer breeze. Her eyes, wide with admiration and something softer—something innocent and blooming—shimmered in the dappled light. "You saved me! Mama used to say that she fell in love with Papa because he saved her too. So… I want to be like Mama!"
She tugged at his hand with the stubbornness only a child in the throes of first affection could muster. "Okay? Is that okay with you?"
Qian Yu blinked, caught between amusement and awkwardness, a small chuckle escaping him. "Haha… Let's talk about that when you're older, alright?"
"Okay!" Rongrong beamed, her cheeks flushed. "Then when I grow up, I'll come find you for sure!"
Before the boy could respond, an older man gently stepped in and placed a hand on the girl's shoulder.
"Rongrong, that's enough," said Chen Xin, Sword Douluo, his tone soft but firm. He looked at Qian Yu and bowed politely. "Please forgive her childishness. She can be a bit… exuberant."
Qian Yu only smiled, his expression calm beyond his years. "It's no trouble," he said, nodding.
Chen Xin studied him carefully. Something about this child unsettled him—not in a dangerous way, but in how little he resembled any boy his age. His poise, his composure... they whispered of experiences far beyond a child's world. The more Chen Xin observed him, the deeper his curiosity grew. Who was this boy, really?
One thing was clear: he was no ordinary soul master.
But the greatest mystery of all was the sword—the God-Slaying Sword—that hung invisible yet palpable in Qian Yu's presence. Could this boy be a successor of that legendary swordmaster?
Trying to keep his tone casual, Chen Xin gestured toward the still body of a fearsome beast nearby—a soul beast with a deep, ancient aura. "Little friend, that creature was a thirty-thousand-year-old soul beast. May I ask… what you plan to do with it?"
Qian Yu offered another faint smile. "Naturally, I intend to take its soul ring."
The elder Douluo froze.
"You… plan to absorb a thirty-thousand-year soul ring?" Chen Xin's voice dropped with disbelief.
It was nearly unthinkable. Even the strongest young soul masters would never dare attempt such a feat. A ring that old could tear a child apart from the inside out. And this boy—he couldn't be more than six or seven.
"Forgive me," Chen Xin said, his brow furrowed in concern. "You're powerful, that much is clear. But if you try to forcefully absorb that soul ring… your body might not survive the strain."
Before he could say more, Qian Yu calmly raised his hand. A single soul ring emerged around him—a dark, deep onyx halo that shimmered with an ancient luster.
It was black.
A ten-thousand-year soul ring.
And it was his first.
Chen Xin staggered back a step, speechless.
"This… this can't be. A black ring? As your first?!"
Beside him, Ning Rongrong's jaw dropped. "It's really black… That means it's over ten thousand years old, right?"
As the heiress of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan, she had been raised among soul masters and knew well the progression of soul ring colors. Her own first ring was a modest yellow, just over a hundred years old. But Qian Yu…
He looked straight at Sword Douluo, voice steady. "It's true that soul ring absorption has limits. But those rules don't apply to me. As long as my body can withstand it, I can absorb any ring I choose."
The swordsman's gaze darkened with awe. He bowed slightly. "Qian Yu, if you trust me, allow me to stand guard while you absorb this soul ring. This forest is no place to let your guard down, and the process will leave you vulnerable."
Qian Yu nodded, recognizing the sincerity in the old man's eyes. Sword Douluo was a man of principle—a titled Douluo with honor etched into every line of his face. Qian Yu knew he could trust him.
He bowed back. "Thank you. I'd be grateful."
Chen Xin smiled and turned to Ning Rongrong. "Rongrong, you too. Begin your absorption."
She nodded and walked toward her defeated soul beast. A golden-yellow ring hovered into view, glowing with warmth and promise.
Elsewhere, Ye Chen knelt before the massive tiger he had slain. Its death had been swift. A black ring pulsed above its lifeless form.
Qian Yu approached the beast he had chosen. As he sat down in the lotus position before it, the black soul ring drifted forward, resonating with his breath. Sword Douluo took his post, eyes sharp, ready to strike down any threat that dared approach.
Even for Qian Yu, this was no small task.
Absorbing a thirty-thousand-year soul ring as a second ring was venturing into dangerous extremes. He could feel the pressure already—like a mountain balancing on the edge of his ribs.
But he had a secret advantage.
His martial soul, Nether Night Hibiscus, wasn't just a weapon—it was a wellspring of healing. If his body broke, the flower would mend him.
As the ring began its descent, Qian Yu inhaled, summoning his soul power. Shadows trembled. Energy surged inward like a tide.
A low hum filled the forest, and then—a brilliant flash of light erupted around him.
His body convulsed.
Chen Xin stepped forward in alarm. "What's happening?"
Blood beaded at Qian Yu's skin, seeping through his robes.
"This… It's too much. He's forcing it." Sword Douluo's voice cracked with dread. "Can he survive it?"
But just as despair began to flicker in his eyes, a new light broke through the gloom—a soft green glow, blooming from within Qian Yu's chest. It spread like spring sunlight, gentle and warm, knitting together torn flesh, soothing over muscle and bone.
Chen Xin blinked. "Healing? Is he… is he a support-type soul master too?"
That radiant green glow, the very soul of life itself, had saved him.
Time trickled by.
And then—slowly—Qian Yu opened his eyes.
He rose with the grace of someone twice his age, stretching his limbs, his breath deep and calm.
Ning Rongrong ran to him, worry etched across her delicate face. "Qian Yu-ge! Are you okay?"
Chen Xin was close behind. "How do you feel? Did it go well?"
Qian Yu didn't answer at first. Instead, he raised his hands. Two black rings spun around him like silent sentinels, their brilliance casting light across the clearing.
"I'm fine," he said. "The absorption was… perfect."
Relief washed over both of them.
Qian Yu grinned and glanced at the tiger's remains. "Now then," he said with a mischievous twinkle, "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. How about I roast us some meat?"
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