Chen Yu barely slept, the hum in his chest a restless pulse that kept him tossing on his straw mat. The voice from the well—*Seek*—echoed in his mind, mingling with the vision of the starry void and the creeping dread of the Spirit Sage's arrival. He was running out of time to understand his martial soul, and the sense of being watched had grown stronger, a shadow that clung to him even in the safety of the orphanage. By the time Old Mei's spoon clanged against the pot at dawn, he was already up, his small body tense with anticipation.
He dressed quickly, avoiding Liang Hao's chatter as they headed to the square. The village was buzzing, more alive than usual, with villagers crowding the cobblestone paths and whispering about the Spirit Sage. A rank seventy soul master was a rare sight in a place like this, and their presence meant something big—something Chen Yu feared was tied to him. His stomach churned as he remembered Gao Lin's warning: *They'll test your soul themselves. If you're holding back, they'll know.*
The square was packed when they arrived, the air thick with the scent of incense and nervous excitement. A platform had been set up, draped in white cloth emblazoned with Spirit Hall's golden flame emblem. Instructor Gao Lin stood to one side, his expression unreadable, while the village elder, Li Shun, fussed with a group of local soul masters. Liang Hao nudged Chen Yu, his eyes wide. "Look at all this! Bet the Sage is gonna be some old guy with a beard down to his knees."
Chen Yu forced a smile, scanning the crowd. He spotted Lin Xiao near the back, her sharp eyes meeting his for a moment before she looked away. Her warning about Spirit Hall's interest weighed heavy, and he wondered if she'd seen anything else, anything that could help him navigate what was coming.
A hush fell over the square as a figure appeared, stepping onto the platform with a grace that belied their power. The Spirit Sage was not what Chen Yu had expected. She was a woman, perhaps in her forties, with long black hair tied in an intricate braid and eyes that seemed to pierce through the crowd. Her white robe shimmered with gold embroidery, and the emblem on her chest bore seven stars, marking her rank. The pressure of her soul power was overwhelming, a quiet storm that made the air feel heavy. Chen Yu's chest tightened, the hum of his martial soul flaring in response.
"I am Spirit Sage Liu Mei," she said, her voice clear and commanding, carrying across the square without effort. "Spirit Hall has sent me to evaluate the talents of this village, particularly those with high potential. Chen Yu, Liang Hao, step forward."
Liang Hao practically bounced onto the platform, his grin nervous but eager. Chen Yu followed, his steps measured, his heart pounding. Liu Mei's eyes locked onto him, and he felt exposed, like she could see the sphere's secrets pulsing in his chest. He kept his face blank, drawing on Ethan's years of masking stress in high-pressure meetings.
"Liang Hao," Liu Mei said, turning to the lanky boy first. "Wolf pup martial soul, level two innate soul power. Respectable for a village. Summon it."
Liang Hao obeyed, his wolf pup appearing above his shoulder, its small form snarling softly. Liu Mei nodded, her expression neutral. "Adequate control for your level. You'll continue training under Instructor Gao Lin. With diligence, you may earn a soul ring soon. Step back."
Liang Hao beamed, retreating to the edge of the platform. Chen Yu's turn was next, and the crowd's whispers grew louder, their eyes fixed on him. Liu Mei's gaze was unrelenting, her soul power pressing against him like a weight. "Chen Yu," she said. "Relic-type martial soul, level six innate soul power. Highly unusual. Summon your soul."
Chen Yu swallowed, reaching for the hum in his chest. He'd practiced this, keeping the sphere's presence restrained, but Liu Mei's aura made it harder, like trying to hold water in his hands. The air shimmered, and the sphere appeared, hovering above his palm, its iridescent surface rippling with dark colors. The hum was loud in his ears, and that sentient presence stirred, curious, almost defiant. He focused, keeping the soul power steady, not letting the sphere's strange effects leak out.
Liu Mei's eyes narrowed, and she stepped closer, her presence intensifying. "Interesting," she murmured. "Its aura is… complex. Older than it should be. Hold it steady."
Chen Yu's hand trembled, sweat beading on his forehead. The sphere pulsed, and he felt it push against his control, like a living thing testing its cage. The air rippled faintly, too subtle for the crowd to notice, but Liu Mei's expression sharpened. "You're restraining it," she said, her voice low. "Why?"
"I'm not," Chen Yu lied, his voice steady despite the strain. "It's hard to control. I'm still learning."
She studied him, then held out a crystal, larger and clearer than the one used in the awakening ceremony. "Test your soul power again. Fully."
Chen Yu touched the crystal, channeling his soul power as he had before. It flared, a deep blue light pulsing steadily, brighter than Liang Hao's. The crowd gasped, but Liu Mei's face remained impassive. "Level six, as reported," she said. "But your soul's aura suggests more. We'll need a deeper examination."
Chen Yu's heart sank. A deeper examination meant trouble—maybe a forced summoning, maybe even probing his soul's essence. He knew from the novels that Spirit Hall had techniques to analyze martial souls, and his sphere was too strange to withstand scrutiny. He nodded, keeping his face blank, but his mind was racing. He needed a way out, a distraction, anything to delay this.
Liu Mei turned to Gao Lin. "Continue their training. I'll send a report to Spirit Hall. Chen Yu, you'll remain here for now, but expect a summons. Your soul requires… special attention." She paused, her eyes locked on him. "Do not hide anything from us. Spirit Hall values talent, but it demands loyalty."
"Yes, ma'am," Chen Yu said, his throat tight. He nodded, his throat tight. The sphere vanished as he released it, but its hum lingered, sharp and restless. Liu Mei dismissed them, turning to speak with the elder, and Chen Yu stepped off the platform, his legs shaky. Liang Hao clapped him on the back, oblivious to the tension. "Level six again, Yu! You're gonna be a monster!"
Chen Yu forced a smile, his eyes scanning the crowd. Lin Xiao was gone, but he felt her warning in his bones. Spirit Hall was closing in, and the sphere's behavior—pushing against his control, almost defiant—only made things worse. He needed to practice, to master it, but where? The well was compromised, and the barn was too exposed now. He needed somewhere truly hidden.
Training resumed under Gao Lin's watchful eye, but Chen Yu was distracted, going through the motions of circulation drills and sparring. Liang Hao noticed, his grin faltering. "You're quiet today, Yu. That Sage freak you out?"
"Just tired," Chen Yu said, dodging a half-hearted jab. But he wasn't think so much of it—his mind was on the sphere, on that voice. *Seek.* What did it mean? Was it a clue to his soul's power, or a warning of something else? And who had been watching him—the shadow in the forest, the rustle at the well? It wasn't just Spirit Hall. Something else was out there, drawn to his soul.
As dusk fell, Gao Lin dismissed them, assigning more meditation exercises. Chen Yu slipped away from Liang Hao's chatter, his heart set on finding a new practice spot. He wandered to the village's eastern edge, where the fields met a crumbling stone shrine, its roof caved in and overgrown with vines. It was far from the village to be private, and the shrine's walls hid it from view. He slipped inside, the air cool and musty, and knelt on the cracked stone floor.
He summoned the sphere, its glow casting eerie shadows on the walls. He channeled soul power, careful pushing to push gently, testing. The air rippled, and a loose stone shifted, drawn toward the sphere. He adjusted his focus, and the ripple sharpened, pulling harder. The sphere's presence was strong, its hum a deep vibration, and that voice came again, faint but clear: *Seek.* A vision flashed—a starry void, spheres spinning, and a single star brighter than the rest, pulsing with power.
Pain flared, and he held on, his head throbbing. He pushed harder, and the sphere pulsed, the air warping around it like a distortion. The shrine walls creaked, and a vine snapped, curling toward the sphere. Then, a sudden chill—a pressure, not his own, pressed against his chest. He cut off the soul power, gasping, and the sphere vanished. The shrine was silent, but the hum was wild, warning him. He froze, listening. Footsteps. Faint, but close, just beyond the shrine.
He crept to a crack in the wall, peering out. A shadow moved in the moonlight, tall and cloaked, too silent to be human—or at least, not an ordinary human one. His blood ran cold. Not Spirit Hall. Something worse. The hum pulsed, urgent, and he knew—he had to run, now, before whatever was out there found him.