The afternoon sun faded behind thick gray clouds as the wind rustled the aged rooftops of Nuoding City. A calm, focused boy stood at the edge of the training ground behind Nuoding Intermediate Spirit Master Academy. Clad in a simple black tunic, his expression was serene, yet his eyes glimmered with quiet intensity. Tang San had always preferred the silence of discipline over the noise of praise.
It had been months since his first spirit ring hunt. Since then, every day had been routine—but not ordinary. Every morning began with Grandmaster's specialized martial training. Every afternoon was spent assisting the blacksmith, hammering metal with his father to improve control over his Blue Silver Grass. And each night, when the world around him sank into silence, he sat cross-legged, entering deep cultivation through the Mysterious Heaven Technique.
He was still only at Level 19, but it was the most stable Level 19 one could reach. His cultivation, though slower than prodigies with god-bestowed talents, had become increasingly refined. Unlike others, who surged ahead in power but left unstable cracks in their foundations, Tang San's control over spirit power was nearing perfection.
And now, Grandmaster had given him a new task.
"You've reached the threshold of your first bottleneck. There's no rush to get your second ring. What you need now is experience. Actual combat, Tang San. Blood, movement, instinct—those are things a book cannot teach."
Thus, with Grandmaster's quiet arrangement, Tang San found himself standing before the underground spirit battle hall beneath the city's eastern merchant quarter.
The Hidden Arena
The underground arena wasn't large, but it was lively. Bright spirit lights lit the circular stone battlefield, and dozens of spectators—mercenaries, rogue spirit masters, and even some merchants—lined the benches, drinking and shouting. There were no noble heirs here. No uniforms. Only raw spirit power and the sound of fists on flesh.
Tang San wore a mask. Grandmaster had insisted. He wasn't supposed to be here, not officially. As a student of the academy, he risked disciplinary action if caught. But he needed this. Real combat would forge his instincts and awaken dormant potential.
His opponent was a young man in his teens, wearing a sleeveless vest and bearing the emblem of a wolf on his shoulder. He had a beast-type spirit—Shadow Claw Wolf, and was Level 20 with a single spirit ring.
Tang San, still only Level 19, was clearly at a disadvantage. But he showed no fear.
As the referee shouted "Begin!" the battle erupted.
Combat Prowess
The moment his opponent dashed forward, claws gleaming with dark light, Tang San's feet slid back—not out of fear, but calculation. Years of training in the Tang Sect's movement arts combined with Grandmaster's teachings allowed him to flow like water between strikes.
Slash!
A claw grazed his shoulder, but Tang San had already retaliated. Blue Silver Grass surged from his palm like a whip, wrapping around the young man's ankle. A sudden tug, a rotation of the wrist, and the boy fell to the ground hard.
But the Shadow Claw Wolf spirit gave his opponent agility and strong recovery. The young man flipped back up and came in with a leap, this time launching a flurry of attacks.
Tang San stepped lightly, controlling his breathing, conserving spirit power. He refused to use it unless necessary.
And then, with the precision of a master, he activated his first spirit ring.
Blue Silver Bind!
Golden light surged around his grass, which darted like a serpent and wrapped around both arms of the attacker. This time, the boy was locked tight.
With a controlled pull, Tang San flipped him again, then struck his neck with the side of his palm—non-lethal, but enough to knock him out cold.
Silence followed.
Then a wave of applause and startled murmurs echoed through the arena.
"He won?"
"He's not even twenty yet! Look at his control!"
"Who is that kid?"
Whispers in the Shadows
Tang San bowed politely and left the arena without a word, ignoring the offers of silver coins and challenges. Grandmaster was waiting in a dim corner, arms folded.
"You showed good control. But next time, don't take a claw to the shoulder. It was avoidable."
Tang San bowed his head. "Understood, teacher."
Grandmaster sighed. "Your instincts are improving. Keep practicing. You'll need it—especially before your second spirit ring hunt."
As they left, neither of them noticed a man in a tattered cloak watching from the upper benches. His face was partially hidden, but his eyes were sharp—too sharp for an ordinary rogue spirit master. He said nothing, but his gaze lingered on Tang San's departing figure.
"That boy… he's cultivating the forbidden essence. I see the residual pulses. So it chose him after all…"
Then, like a shadow, he disappeared into the crowd.
Nightfall Training
That night, back in the dormitory, Tang San sat cross-legged as he always did. But his body ached from the battle. Despite the pain, he smiled faintly. He had felt something in the heat of combat—a connection between spirit power and movement, between his mind and his instincts.
As he breathed in, spirit energy in the air swirled around him, drawn to the black stone near his dantian. It pulsed once—dim, warm—and the cultivation cycle became smoother.
He didn't know what the black stone truly was. The cloaked man who had handed it to him all those months ago never appeared again. Grandmaster knew nothing about it, and Tang San didn't dare reveal its presence to anyone.
He only knew one thing:
It made him better.
Not instantly. Not dramatically. But night after night, it refined him. Strengthened him. Helped him step just a little further ahead of his peers.
And that was enough.
End of Chapter 15