Evening.
Yang Fan sat alone in his room, attempting to cultivate soul power for the very first time.
Cross-legged on his bed, he summoned his martial soul—the Soul Breaking Spear—now floating silently before him.
As he began meditating, Yang Fan could sense an invisible current of energy in the air steadily flowing toward his martial soul, which absorbed it gradually.
This was the most common method of soul power cultivation in Soul Land: through meditation and stillness, the martial soul continuously drew in ambient soul power, which in turn nourished the soul master and raised their rank.
For faster progress, one would normally use a mimetic cultivation environment—a specialized space that amplified soul power absorption.
The Broken Sect had once possessed such facilities… but not anymore.
After about an hour, Yang Fan concluded his first cultivation session.
Just then, a soft knock sounded at the door.
Knock… knock… knock…
"Little Fan, it's Grandfather."
Before the words fully faded, Yang Wudi pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Yang Fan sensed his grandfather must have been standing outside for quite some time—waiting patiently until his cultivation ended before entering.
"Grandfather…"
Yang Fan blinked in disbelief. For the first time in six years, he saw a smile on his grandfather's face.
To be honest—he never imagined Yang Wudi's smile would look so… awkward.
"Come, let Grandfather take a look at your spear."
Yang Wudi sat down and ruffled Yang Fan's hair with his rough, calloused hand.
In the next instant, the air in the room rippled faintly as Yang Fan summoned his mutated Soul Breaking Spear into his palm.
Thanks to this afternoon's practice, he could now summon and retract his martial soul with ease.
"Good!"
"Very good! Excellent!"
Yang Wudi's eyes gleamed with pride—brighter than even when he'd once laid eyes on Old White Bird's Crystal Blood Dragon Ginseng.
His grandson's spear wasn't just longer and thicker than others—it was darker, deeper in hue, and etched with those mysterious flame-like patterns.
Even without a single soul ring, it radiated an unyielding, forward-charging aura—fearless and indomitable.
"It's your innate full soul power that caused the Soul Breaking Spear to mutate."
There were only two types of martial soul mutations:
One occurred when a soul master's body was too weak to support their martial soul, causing a degenerative mutation.
The other—when the body was so strong it actively reshaped the martial soul for the better.
Yang Fan clearly belonged to the latter.
"Today, I'll tell you more about our Soul Breaking Spear…"
Every Soul Breaking Spear soul master was born with a natural ten-thousand-year soul ring—but it wouldn't manifest until they reached the rank of Soul Sage and unlocked their True Martial Soul Body.
"I know, Grandfather," Yang Fan said.
Within the Broken Sect, opinions on this innate soul ring were divided.
Some saw it as an advantage—granting eight soul rings upon reaching Soul Sage, far ahead of peers.
Others called it a curse—because this very ring prevented any Soul Breaking Spear soul master from ever becoming a Title Douluo.
Worse yet, this innate ten-thousand-year ring granted no soul skill at all.
"Little Fan, keep striving," Yang Wudi said, his voice thick with emotion.
"Maybe… you'll become the first Title Douluo in our clan's history."
A trace of bitterness lingered beneath his smile.
Soul masters with innate full soul power, if nurtured properly, almost always became Title Douluos.
Yet that cursed innate ring had always been an insurmountable barrier.
Throughout the clan's history, several members had reached Level 89—Soul Douluos—but that one unremovable ring shattered their dreams of ascension.
Yang Wudi himself had once hoped to fulfill his ancestors' legacy and elevate the Broken Sect.
But after the Hao Tian Sect's betrayal, the clan collapsed. Over the past six years, not only had he made no progress—he'd accumulated countless injuries under the Spirit Hall's relentless persecution.
He knew, deep down, that becoming a Title Douluo was no longer possible for him.
"I will, Grandfather," Yang Fan replied firmly.
He'd already discussed the innate ring issue with Yao Lao.
Though there was no solution yet—he believed paths were made by walking.
"The world thinks we can never become Title Douluos," Yang Wudi continued, "but every Soul Breaking Spear soul master is born with a unique soul skill."
"A natural soul skill?" Yang Fan asked, puzzled.
"Yes!"
"The ninth soul skill of the Soul Breaking Spear is called… Courage!"
In that moment, Yang Fan understood.
The Soul Breaking Spear was a weapon of pure destruction. Every soul ring its wielders acquired emphasized overwhelming offense—never defense.
Thus, Soul Breaking Spear soul masters fought with reckless abandon, forsaking protection for sheer destructive power.
"You performed wonderfully at today's ceremony," Yang Wudi said warmly. "This is your reward from the clan."
He opened his palm—and revealed a small purple pill.
Yang Fan recognized it instantly: Soul-Strengthening Pill.
When consumed, it refined a soul master's soul power and solidified their foundational strength.
"Thank you, Grandfather."
As Yang Fan took the pill, it felt heavier than lead.
Though the Broken Sect specialized in alchemy, they could barely afford such pills themselves.
Why?
Because one key ingredient—Soul-Gathering Grass—was so potent that even chewing a single leaf could restore soul power.
Its value had skyrocketed from rare to nearly mythical; even major sects hoarded it sparingly.
And for ordinary people? Just ingesting it brought significant physical enhancement.
This unassuming little purple pill could fetch hundreds of gold soul coins on the open market.
"The elders and I have already decided—you'll receive focused cultivation support," Yang Wudi declared.
"From today on, you may access the clan's pharmacy freely. No more sneaking around. If you need anything, just ask."
This was both a privilege and a rightful entitlement.
A soul master with innate full soul power deserved the clan's full investment.
"Don't worry too much about soul rings yet. Once our clan's Soul Grandmasters break through, I'll personally lead you all to hunt for them."
"I've told you before—the soul ring bottleneck doesn't stop your soul power from growing. Cultivate boldly."
Yang Wudi smiled again—this time, with genuine warmth.
"Grandfather, I…"
Yang Fan hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He couldn't bring himself to say what he'd planned.
"It's late. Take the pill and rest."
"I'll take it myself later. You get some rest too, Grandfather."
After seeing his grandfather out, Yang Fan turned—and found Yao Lao already hovering midair.
"Master, I'll trouble you again."
While the Soul-Strengthening Pill was effective on its own, Yao Lao's refinement could amplify its potency dramatically.
"Hand it over."
With a casual wave of his translucent hand, Yao Lao summoned the pill into his palm.
But as he examined it, his brow furrowed.
Yang Wudi was a devoted clan leader and a loving grandfather—but his alchemical skills? Utterly hopeless.
"Get in the tub."
Another night, another session of Foundation-Building Spirit Liquid body tempering.
Though the Awakening Ceremony had been a resounding success—gifting him a powerful mutated martial soul and innate full soul power—
Yang Fan knew this was only the beginning of his journey to become a true powerhouse.
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