Dawn broke over the eastern horizon, pale light bleeding across the sky. Along the country roads of Cheng Family Village, a solitary figure was already running.
"Huff... huff... huff..."
Cheng Xiao's breath came in measured gasps. Three months had passed since he'd inherited the Shadow Monarch's power—three months of relentless training.
The nourishment of shadow energy had dramatically enhanced his physical capabilities. Without it, attempting such rigorous training in a six-year-old body would have been pure fantasy.
Willpower alone couldn't overcome physical limitations. Prematurely overdrawing his body's potential to break through so-called limits would be nothing short of self-destruction.
But the shadow power changed everything. Cheng Xiao could feel his body growing lighter, stronger. After each training session, a good night's sleep left him almost completely recovered by morning.
This miraculous recovery was the foundation that allowed him to maintain three consecutive months of intense training.
Twenty kilometers completed, Cheng Xiao halted and gazed at the rising sun, a smile tugging at his lips.
Training was undeniably monotonous and exhausting, yet he found himself oddly addicted to it. Each session brought tangible improvement—he could feel his body evolving, growing stronger.
That sensation of measurable progress kept him going.
After all, even Sung Jinwoo, the second Shadow Monarch, had walked this path step by step—he'd simply progressed faster...
Returning home, Cheng Xiao's eyes immediately found the breakfast his grandfather had prepared: a steaming bowl of white porridge, a peeled egg, and a palm-sized sesame cake.
Eggs hadn't been a regular fixture in their home before. But ever since Cheng Xiao began his early morning training, they'd started appearing at the table.
"Xiao Xiao, wash up after eating. Grandpa's taking you to enroll at Notting Academy today. Our village received a work-study slot—it's yours." Warmth radiated from the old man's smile.
"Thank you, Grandpa." Cheng Xiao returned the smile, savoring his breakfast slowly.
After years together, their bond had deepened beyond mere obligation. They were truly grandfather and grandson in every way that mattered.
After breakfast, Cheng Xiao bathed and changed into the new clothes his grandfather had purchased in Notting City days earlier. Though he didn't know the cost, he treasured them—they represented his grandfather's love and care throughout his childhood.
Walking along the road, Cheng Xiao gripped his grandfather's hand tightly. Perhaps it was the impending separation, or simply gratitude, but he couldn't bring himself to loosen his hold.
Cheng Family Village lay close to Notting City—a morning departure meant an afternoon arrival.
The massive city walls loomed in the distance. After a routine inspection, Cheng Xiao and his grandfather entered the city proper.
"Xiao Xiao, Grandpa will see you to the academy, then head back. Study hard, and think carefully about everything you encounter. You've always been clever, so I won't lecture you needlessly."
Cheng Xiao nodded, his eyes reddening slightly. Transmigrator or not, he'd found genuine familial warmth in this world.
His grandfather ruffled his hair affectionately. "Now, now—men don't shed tears so easily. Save them for those you love and those who love you. Don't waste them on anything less."
Cheng Xiao sniffled. "I'm not crying, Grandpa. I just... don't want to let you go."
The old man laughed heartily. Hand in hand, they navigated the city streets, asking directions until they found the Soul Master Junior Academy in Notting City's western district.
From afar, Cheng Xiao spotted four grand characters carved into the stone archway: "Notting Academy." The sight was imposing.
A hint of awe flickered through him. Seeing this world's educational institutions firsthand as a transmigrator was genuinely... breathtaking.
A mere junior academy commanded such presence. This alone testified to the exalted status spirit masters held in Douluo Continent.
Approaching the entrance, Cheng Xiao noticed they weren't the first to arrive. An elderly man and a young boy stood before the gate, having beaten them there.
"You here to register as work-study students too?" The gatekeeper's eyes swept over their simple clothing, his tone dismissive.
Before Grandpa Cheng could respond, Cheng Xiao spoke up. "Hello, this is my Spirit Certificate, personally stamped by Master Su Yuntao, Deacon of Spirit Hall."
He presented the document with practiced ease.
The gatekeeper's eyes lingered on their plain attire, a mocking retort forming on his lips. Notting Academy hadn't accepted work-study students in years—now two showed up from some backwater village? Naturally, suspicion arose.
Not that he doubted Spirit Hall's certification—but such opportunities for profit were rare. Parents enrolling their children were usually... cooperative, especially civilians without backing. They were his preferred targets.
Cheng Xiao understood this dynamic perfectly. That's why he'd immediately invoked the Spirit Hall deacon's name, emphasizing Su Yuntao's personal endorsement.
Notting City was small. As Spirit Hall's deacon, Su Yuntao's reputation preceded him—the gatekeeper would certainly know the name.
Sure enough, upon hearing Su Yuntao mentioned, the gatekeeper's sardonic expression faltered. He accepted the certificate, examining it closely. "Martial Spirit: Shadow Soldier. Innate... full spirit power?"
"Innate full spirit power?!"
His voice cracked into a near-shriek. The way he looked at Cheng Xiao transformed entirely, trembling with sudden deference.
"May I enter now?" Cheng Xiao asked pleasantly.
"Y-yes! Of course!" The gatekeeper stammered, nearly tripping over himself to open the iron gate, his face a mask of flattery.
Watching Cheng Xiao disappear into the academy, Grandpa Cheng smiled. He glanced briefly at Old Jack and Tang San, still barred at the entrance, then departed without a word.
"You're deliberately obstructing us!" An angry voice rang out.
The gatekeeper's attention snapped back. He glared at Old Jack with undisguised irritation. "Why haven't you beggars left yet? Must I physically remove you?"
"Then why was he allowed entry?" Tang San spoke up, his voice calm and measured. "If you believe my Spirit Certificate is fraudulent, what makes his genuine?"
"Or is it because my martial spirit is Blue Silver Grass that you're discriminating against us?"
Despite his youth, Tang San was a former Tang Sect disciple. For such narrow-minded fools, he had no patience—and his left sleeve concealed a silent sleeve arrow, ready to deploy.
As a Tang Sect disciple, the Mysterious Heaven Treasure Record's teachings were seared into his memory: [If you've confirmed someone as an enemy and possess the means to eliminate them, show no mercy—hesitation only breeds future trouble.]
In Tang San's assessment, the gatekeeper's discrimination qualified as enmity. His contemptible behavior warranted elimination.
Were it not for Old Jack's presence preventing direct action, an arrow would already be lodged in the gatekeeper's throat.
Tang San was absolutely certain no one—not a single witness—would detect him firing it. Without evidence, who could prove he'd killed anyone?
"Damn brat, courting death!" Rendered speechless by a child, the gatekeeper's fury exploded. His palm rose to strike Tang San across the face.
Cold light flashed in Tang San's eyes. His left hand shifted forward, the silent sleeve arrow aligning with the gatekeeper's throat—
"What's going on here?"
A somewhat hoarse voice cut through the tension, halting both the gatekeeper's strike and Tang San's lethal response.
Cheng Xiao, who'd entered the academy but lingered nearby, turned toward the newcomer. A middle-aged man of average height and lean build approached slowly, his presence commanding despite his unassuming appearance.