Spirit City glimmered under the silver wash of the moon. Towers rose like spears of obsidian and jade, and in the heart of it all, the Supreme Pontiff Palace glowed faintly with golden light.
Inside, the training hall was silent—except for the faint hum of spirit energy saturating the air.
Oscar sat cross-legged on the floor, a sausage floating lazily above his palm. His expression was calm but his lips were curved into a little smirk.
"Mother," he said, looking up at Bibi Dong, who stood before him like a queen in shadow and light. "You really make it sound dramatic. 'Sit straight, breathe deep, focus your mind'… I already look like a sage with sausages."
The sausage rotated like a tiny moon.
Bibi Dong blinked, the corner of her lips twitching. She had prepared herself for solemn meditation, perhaps even tears of exhaustion from the boy. Instead, he cracked jokes at his own cultivation session.
"You treat your talent too lightly," she said softly, though the warmth in her eyes betrayed her scolding tone.
Oscar grinned. "No, no, I take it very seriously. Look." He waved a hand, and the sausage floated higher, glowing faintly. "This is a sacred artifact. A sausage worthy of history."
"…Sacred?"
"Yes. One day, Spirit Hall's enemies will hear the name Oscar and tremble. Not because of my looks—although that's already a problem for them—but because of the terror of my sausages."
The smirk widened. "Imagine it: Oscar the Sausage Tyrant. Doesn't it sound glorious?"
Bibi Dong covered her mouth, but a laugh slipped through despite her. She quickly composed herself, though her eyes still shone.
"You're insufferable," she murmured.
Oscar leaned back, resting on his hands with mock pride. "Insufferably handsome, insufferably talented, insufferably beloved by my wonderful mother. A true tragedy."
Her stern mask cracked again, this time into a genuine smile. For a moment, she almost forgot she was the Supreme Pontiff, the ruler of millions. Here, she was simply his mother.
Training began in earnest after his antics. Bibi Dong surrounded him with a dense wave of spirit power. The energy pressed like a storm against his body, but Oscar simply smirked and drew it in, his breathing smooth.
She narrowed her eyes. So calm. As though his meridians were carved for this.
Minutes later, the Creation Pearl in his hand pulsed like a living star. His spirit power rose and rose, each cycle tighter, more refined.
"Enough," she commanded.
Oscar opened one eye, lips quirking. "Are you sure? I was just starting to enjoy the pressure."
Her brow arched. "And if I doubled it?"
He grinned. "Then I'd still enjoy it. I'm very adaptable. My sausages and I can handle anything."
Bibi Dong exhaled sharply, half amused, half exasperated. "One day, your tongue will cause more trouble than your power."
"Then it's a good thing I have you to protect me," he teased.
She rolled her eyes, but her heart softened. He carried himself with such pride, yet there was no arrogance—only a boy's confidence wrapped in humor. And beneath that, she could feel it: a calm as steady as the ocean depths.
This was no ordinary child.
"This much spirit power cannot remain unshaped," she finally said, her tone shifting back to serious. "Tomorrow, we leave for the Star Dou Great Forest. It is the only place worthy of your first spirit ring."
Oscar tilted his head, eyes gleaming with excitement. "So soon? I haven't even packed snacks."
"You will not need snacks."
"I'll have you know, Mother, snacks are vital for the soul. Especially sausage."
She shot him a warning glare, but he only smirked wider. "Fine, fine. No snacks. Just glory."
Far from Spirit City, in Nuoding Village, dawn's light fell on the cracked walls of a small church. Children fidgeted nervously inside as the village elder and a spirit master oversaw the annual Awakening Ceremony.
Tang San stood quietly among them. His clothes were plain, his gaze clear and calm. He did not shuffle or whisper like the others.
One by one, the children stepped forward, hands pressed to the Awakening Stone. Spirits appeared: wolves, sparrows, farm animals. Some received cheers, most received sighs.
When Tang San's turn came, whispers spread.
"Blacksmith's boy."
"Too quiet, that one."
"Don't expect much."
He ignored them. Without hesitation, he pressed his hand to the stone.
Blue light spilled forth, forming into slender vines that spread across his palm. Leaves trembled faintly, glistening with dew.
"Blue Silver Grass," the spirit master announced, his tone flat. "Innate soul power… rank ten."
The villagers murmured. Blue Silver Grass was weak, almost useless. But rank ten at awakening? That was rare.
The children snickered, not understanding. "Trash grass."
"Even if he trains, what can grass do?"
Tang San withdrew his hand, expression calm, unshaken by the laughter. He returned to his place without a word.
The elder's brow furrowed. Rank ten… such talent with such a poor martial spirit. A pity.
But Tang San's eyes gleamed with something hidden: quiet determination. They don't know me. They don't know what I carry.
When he returned home later, Tang Hao's gaze sharpened as his son showed him the result. Blue Silver Grass unfurled in one hand. Then, at his father's urging, Tang San clenched his fist.
A weight pressed down on his soul, and from his other palm, a hammer appeared. Black, simple, heavy with history.
Tang Hao's eyes narrowed. "Remember this. Never show it. Never speak of it. The world is not ready for your hammer."
Tang San nodded silently. His calm deepened. If the world thought him weak, let it. He would grow in silence, in shadows, until he was strong enough to reveal his truth.
Meanwhile, back in Spirit City, Oscar sprawled on his bed, tossing the glowing sausage up and down like a toy.
[Main Quest: Obtain first spirit ring (time limit: 30 days).]
[Side Quest: Cultivate to Rank 31 before obtaining first ring.]
The Balance System's prompts hovered in his mind, but he waved them off with a smirk. "Yes, yes, I know. Work hard, train, blah blah. But can we talk about how good my hair looks under this moonlight?"
The pearl pulsed faintly in his hand, almost like it was sighing at him.
"Don't give me that attitude," Oscar chuckled. "You're a pearl, I'm a man. Only one of us has to look majestic in public."
He rolled onto his side, eyes drifting to the moon. His humor dimmed slightly, replaced by a steady pride. Innate rank thirty. Three martial spirits. And the Dragon God's pulse in my veins. The world won't ignore me.
The door creaked open. Bibi Dong entered quietly, her presence filling the room like warmth in winter.
"You haven't slept," she said, though her voice held no scolding.
Oscar propped himself up on an elbow, smirking. "I was bonding with my pearl. It doesn't snore, unlike certain bishops I've overheard."
Bibi Dong gave him a sharp look, but the corners of her lips twitched again. He had a way of breaking through her stern armor, piece by piece.
"Tomorrow," she said softly, "we leave at dawn. The Star Dou Great Forest awaits."
Oscar leaned back with a mock sigh. "Finally. I was beginning to think you were keeping me locked up so no girls could see me."
She crossed her arms, arching a brow. "Perhaps I should."
He laughed, bright and easy. But then his gaze steadied, his voice lowering. "Don't worry, Mother. In the forest, no matter what waits, I won't fall behind. I'll make you proud."
Her heart softened further, the last of her mask slipping away. She reached out, brushing a hand through his hair. "You already do."
Oscar's smirk softened into a smile, not of pride alone but of warmth, genuine and bright.
The moon dipped lower, and dawn crept closer.
In one corner of the continent, Tang San clenched his fists around hidden strength.
In another, Oscar prepared to stride into danger with pride and laughter.
Two destinies. Two beginnings.
And tomorrow, in the depths of the Star Dou Great Forest, the world itself would begin to tremble.