The awakening ceremony ended, but the square of Holy Soul Village still buzzed with life.
The villagers surrounded Xiao Tian like a tide, their voices rising in excitement.
"Level four innate soul power! A Black Tiger martial spirit!"
"Xiao Tian, you're the pride of our village now!"
"Perhaps one day, he'll be like the Spirit Masters from the city—bringing honor back to Holy Soul Village."
Old Jack's wrinkled face glowed with pride. "Heavens bless us. Our village has gone too long without a Spirit Master. Xiao Tian, you must study hard, cultivate diligently, and never forget where you came from."
Xiao Tian smiled faintly, bowing his head with practiced humility. "Yes, Grandpa Jack. I will remember."
The cheers only grew louder. Mothers brought out freshly baked flatbread, fathers offered their best homemade wine, and even the children clustered around Xiao Tian, their eyes wide with admiration.
"Brother Tian, can you show us your tiger claws again?"
"Will you become stronger than the Spirit Hall teachers?"
"Will you protect us from wolves at night?"
Xiao Tian indulged them, summoning the faint shadow of his Black Tiger. Gasps filled the air, awe painted on every small face.
But at the edge of the square, Tang San stood quietly. No one paid him much attention.
His Blue Silver Grass spirit was dismissed as useless, his innate full soul power words lost on the villagers. To them, he was simply the son of Tang Hao—the drunkard who lay about all day, fixing farm tools only when he had no choice.
"Poor boy," one villager muttered under his breath. "Strong maybe, but what good is grass?"
"Just like his father. Can't expect much."
Tang San didn't defend himself. He only bowed slightly toward Old Jack, then turned and slipped away toward the broken hut he called home.
No one noticed except Xiao Tian, whose sharp eyes followed him until his figure vanished.
That evening, the village held a modest feast in Xiao Tian's honor. A bonfire crackled at the center of the square, flames dancing into the night sky.
Old men laughed as they recalled the rare times Spirit Masters had visited their village. Women hummed folk songs, the melody weaving with the flickering light. Children danced around Xiao Tian, pulling at his sleeves, while proud fathers raised cups of weak wine in toast.
"To Xiao Tian, Holy Soul Village's future Spirit Master!"
"To the Black Tiger!"
The words "Spirit Master" echoed again and again, each repetition deepening the villagers' joy. For them, Xiao Tian's achievement was not just personal—it was hope for the entire village.
Xiao Tian accepted their praise with a calm smile, but inside, his thoughts remained sharp. They cheer because they don't understand. To them, Tang San is nothing, and I am their pride. But one day, they will realize the true monster born in their midst. By then, I must be strong enough… strong enough not to be left behind.He clenched his fist under the firelight, the shadow of his tiger spirit flickering faintly at his back.
Far from the bonfire, hidden in the darkness of the dilapidated hut, Tang San sat before his silent father. His hands still carried the faint scent of Blue Silver Grass, his heart burning with unspoken determination.
The laughter of the villagers reached him faintly, but he said nothing.
For one boy, tonight was a celebration.
For the other, tonight was the first step into a secret destiny.