Chapter 1 – Chains at Birth
The night of Yu Tianghen's birth was quiet. Too quiet.
The Yu family had once been a proud line of warriors, respected in Donhai City, but their light was fading. Generations of mediocrity had left them weakened, surviving only because of one figure—their patriarch, Yu Jianhong.
Yu Jianhong, Dean of Donhai University, Level 88 Soul Douluo, and the last true pillar of their name.
It was into this fragile lineage that Yu Tianghen was born.
His mother wept silently as she held him for the first time. His father stood by the bedside, sword strapped to his back, gaze fixed on the far horizon. They had already made their choice. The Abyss Battlefield was calling, and with it, their duty as soldiers of humanity.
"Father," Yu Tianghen's mother whispered, voice trembling as she turned to the old man standing in the shadows. "Take care of him… if we do not return."
Yu Jianhong's weathered face did not move, but his hands trembled ever so slightly as he accepted the child. His gaze swept over the infant—fragile, yet alive. A silver chain phantom shimmered faintly behind the baby, the family's martial soul inheritance.
"Go," he said, voice heavy with command and sorrow. "Fulfill your duty. Leave the boy to me."
The parents exchanged one last glance, then left. Their backs disappeared into the night, towards the Abyss where countless lives were lost each year.
And thus, Yu Tianghen was raised not by his parents, but by his grandfather.
---
From the very beginning, he was… different.
Most infants cried, wailed, or giggled mindlessly. Yu Tianghen's eyes, however, were unsettlingly calm. His cries were mechanical, timed almost like a signal of need rather than true distress. By the time he could crawl, he already watched the world with a quiet, unnerving focus.
At age 5, the truth revealed itself.
I… remember.
The thought struck him like lightning. Not his past life, not who he had been, but the vast tapestry of a story: Soul Land. He knew this world. Its future. Its fate. The gods who manipulated everything. Tang San's shadow looming over all life.
And then another voice, sharper, colder, sank into his consciousness. Ruthless, merciless, logical to the extreme. Fang Yuan's mentality.
Not Fang Yuan's life, not his experiences, but his way of thinking—a predator's logic, a schemer's heart, a demon's patience.
Yu Tianghen sat on his bed that night, staring at the moon outside his window. A faint silver glow reflected off his childish face.
"So that's it," he whispered, his voice low and cold. "This world is nothing but chains. Chains of destiny. Chains forged by gods. Chains held by Tang San himself."
A smile flickered across his lips.
"Chains are meant to be broken."
From that day forward, Yu Tianghen was no longer just a child.
---
Donhai University was both his home and his cage. As Dean, Yu Jianhong had no time to be a doting grandfather. He was stern, distant, and disciplined, treating the boy more like a student than blood.
But that suited Yu Tianghen just fine.
He studied diligently, devouring books and cultivation scrolls long before most children could even read. His peers mocked him at first—calling him a lifeless bookworm, saying he had no talent.
But Yu Tianghen never retaliated with childish anger.
He simply smiled at them, eyes calm, as though he already knew the end of their story. And slowly, his intelligence revealed itself. He answered questions that even older students failed. He analyzed martial soul theories with frightening clarity. Teachers whispered that the Dean's grandson was "gifted."
But Yu Jianhong saw more.
One evening, he found the boy practicing alone in the courtyard. Not martial arts—Yu Tianghen was studying ants. He crouched silently, watching as one colony overwhelmed another.
"Why are you wasting time on insects?" Yu Jianhong asked, arms folded.
Yu Tianghen turned, his childish face devoid of innocence. "Survival of the fittest. The weak are eaten. The strong devour. Even ants understand this law. Shouldn't humans?"
The old man's eyes narrowed. There was no naivety in the boy's words. Only cold truth.
From then on, Yu Jianhong kept a closer watch.
---
At age 6, everything changed.
The war at the Abyss raged on, endless tides of darkness clashing against humanity's fragile defense. His parents fought valiantly at the front lines. They never returned.
Yu Jianhong received the news in silence. The message arrived in a blood-stained letter, carried by a weary messenger.
"Both perished," the soldier reported grimly. "They fought to the last breath. They saved many."
Yu Jianhong's hands trembled. His chest burned with grief. But when he looked at his grandson, he swallowed it all.
The boy was too young. Telling him now would only break him. And so, Yu Jianhong chose silence.
"They're still fighting," he said when the boy asked. "One day, they will return."
Yu Tianghen simply nodded. He did not cry. He did not ask further. He simply stared at his grandfather for a long time, as though trying to pierce through the lie.
Then he turned back to his books.
That night, alone in his room, he whispered to the moon again.
"Dead."
He didn't need confirmation. The look in his grandfather's eyes had been enough. And strangely, he felt nothing. No tears, no grief. Only a cold certainty.
"They died because they were weak. Because they chained themselves to 'duty.'" His small fists clenched. "That is not the path I will follow."
He lay down on his bed, the chains of his martial soul flickering faintly behind him, coiling like serpents.
"I will not be weak. I will not be chained. I will devour this world, until nothing can stand above me."
---
From then on, Yu Tianghen changed.
He stopped wasting time on childish games. Every day was dedicated to study, training, and quiet observation. He learned not just from books, but from people—their lies, their desires, their weaknesses. He listened when servants gossiped. He memorized how teachers favored some students and neglected others.
Knowledge was power, and power was everything.
His classmates mocked him less and less, until finally, they feared him. His calm stare unsettled them, his words cut deeper than any insult. He did not fight, yet fights ended when he appeared.
Even his teachers began to tread carefully around him.
Only Yu Jianhong saw the truth. The boy was too mature, too cold. He had the eyes of someone who had lived far longer than his years.
And yet, the old man said nothing. Perhaps he hoped that discipline and education would guide him back to normalcy. Perhaps he simply feared what the boy might become.
But Yu Tianghen already knew his path.
At 6 years old, he stood in the courtyard once more, chains shimmering faintly behind him. He raised his head to the heavens, eyes sharp, lips curved in a cruel smile.
"Survival of the fittest. Devour or be devoured."
His small hands clenched, the chains rattling faintly as though answering his call.
"This world will try to bind me with destiny. But I will break every chain. Even if I must sacrifice myself, my blood, my soul—everything."
The boy's voice was calm, steady, and chilling beyond his years.
"My name is Yu Tianghen. And I will not be bound."