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After his martial soul awakening, Yang Fan's physical strength surged once again.
The Foundation-Building Spirit Liquid, which previously took him a full hour to absorb, now required only half that time.
When Yang Fan opened his eyes again, a crimson pill hovered before him.
"Go ahead and take it."
Yang Fan caught the pill—and froze in astonishment.
Was this really the same Soul-Strengthening Pill his grandfather had given him?
The original was dull purple, its surface lackluster.
But this one? It shimmered with a translucent, blood-red luster, its surface swirling with faint halos of light.
Just from this single pill, the staggering gap between his grandfather's alchemy and Yao Lao's mastery was glaringly obvious.
"You silly boy—stop gawking and swallow it already!"
Yang Fan obeyed.
The moment the pill touched his throat, a wave of warm energy exploded outward, surging through his eight extraordinary meridians.
Wherever it flowed, his channels felt as though they were being radically reshaped—reforged with bold, sweeping strokes.
This warmth lasted about half an hour. The instant Yang Fan emerged from the state, even the motion of clenching his fist sent a gust of wind rippling through the air.
His greatest sensation? His newly awakened soul power—once faint and elusive—now felt solid and grounded.
Before, he could only sense his soul power when summoning his martial soul.
Now, even while sitting quietly, he could feel a dense, cohesive energy mass circulating within him.
"Master… can I become an alchemist?"
"You mean like me—or like your grandfather?"
"Of course like you!"
Yang Fan deeply respected his grandfather—but he had to admit: compared to Yao Lao, Grandfather's alchemical skill was practically amateurish.
If he was going to learn, he'd aim for the best!
"It's not that simple," Yao Lao said gently. "Not just anyone can walk this path."
"A true alchemist must possess fire-attribute energy infused with wood-attribute essence—only then can they refine pills properly."
In Yao Lao's original world, alchemists were treasures—coveted by every major sect and clan.
Here in Soul Land, however, he might very well be the only genuine alchemist in existence.
"Do soul masters have elemental attributes too?" Yang Fan asked.
He knew of the Five Elemental Academies in Tian Dou City—but beyond that, most soul masters didn't seem to classify themselves by elemental affinities.
"Of course they do!" Yao Lao replied. "Every soul master has an innate elemental attribute."
Yang Fan leaned forward eagerly. "Then what's mine?"
"Too weak to tell right now."
During his years in Soul Land, Yao Lao had formed a basic understanding of this world's system.
Most soul masters' attributes remained chaotic and indistinct until they acquired their second soul ring—only then did their elemental nature gradually clarify.
This was completely different from the Dou Qi Continent!
There, cultivators could identify their elemental affinities the moment they began practicing Dou Qi.
"Some people can sense their own attributes early," Yao Lao added. "You should try meditating and feeling for it—it'll help your cultivation."
"Can I really sense it?"
"I feel like I've got a lot of fire in me."
After all, his soul power was fiery red, his Soul Breaking Spear bore flame-shaped alchemical marks, and deep inside, it felt like a blaze was constantly burning.
"Your pee doesn't count!" Yao Lao scoffed.
"That's just you eating too many pills and getting overheated…"
Just then, a passing clan member outside the door interrupted their conversation.
Once the footsteps faded, silence settled heavily over the room.
Yang Fan sat by the window, gazing at the full moon hanging in the night sky, lost in thought.
"If you don't want to go, don't force yourself," Yao Lao said softly.
"Even if you stay here in Yunluo City, I'm confident I can still make you an exceptional soul master."
He understood Yang Fan's hesitation perfectly.
He had a loving grandfather who was also the clan patriarch, kind-hearted clan members, and now—even special cultivation privileges granted by the entire family after his awakening.
Under such circumstances, wavering on the decision to leave for training was entirely understandable.
"It's not that at all!" Yang Fan insisted.
He picked up a brush and began writing a farewell letter on the desk.
He didn't know when—or if—he'd ever return. He needed to explain everything clearly to his grandfather.
A few moments later, the letter was complete.
Then, a sheet of paper drifted down and landed gently atop the letter.
It was a Blood-Clotting Powder formula.
Not only did it list all the required herbs, but it also detailed every step of the refinement process with meticulous clarity.
"Leave this formula with the letter," Yao Lao said.
It was all he could do.
In his current state as a soul fragment, he couldn't alter the Breaking Clan's dire situation under the Spirit Hall's oppression.
But perhaps this formula could ease their struggles—even just a little.
"Thank you, Master," Yang Fan said, his voice thick with emotion. Then he hesitated. "Grandfather… he'll be able to handle this formula, right?"
"No difficulty at all!" Yao Lao chuckled. "Even a steamed-bun-eating dog could learn this one."
He'd specifically designed this Blood-Clotting Powder for soul masters—tailored to Yang Wudi's limited skill level.
Its effect? Basic wound healing.
While nobles from the two great empires might not need it, for soul masters venturing into soul beast forests—hunting soul rings for others in exchange for payment—this powder would be essential.
Without waiting for dawn, master and disciple slipped away under cover of night, vanishing silently from the Breaking Clan.
…
The next morning.
Yang Wudi noticed the clan's young prodigy hadn't gone out for his usual training.
His heart sank.
He rushed to Yang Fan's room with the two elders—and found only a letter on the table.
[Grandfather, I'm leaving.
Don't worry—I'm just going out to train.
You always say that to become a powerful soul master, one must endure trials like fire and hammer. That's exactly what I'm doing now.
I haven't been captured by the Spirit Hall—so please, don't go charging after them recklessly.
Stay calm. Don't rush.
Our Breaking Clan will have our day of vengeance.
There's a medicinal formula on the table—I bought it during my travels. When you're free, try refining it. Maybe you'll create a best-selling remedy!]
"Little Fan!" Yang Wudi slapped his thigh in frustration after reading the letter.
"That kid's gone off to hunt soul rings on his own!"
He regretted everything he'd said last night—his words must have pushed the ever-diligent Yang Fan to leave prematurely.
"Clan Leader, I've already sent people out to search," one elder said urgently. "We'll drag that boy back!"
Tensions between the Breaking Clan and the Spirit Hall were already at a breaking point.
If word got out that Yang Fan had awakened with innate full soul power, the Spirit Hall would move immediately to eliminate him!
"Clan Leader… is this… a medicinal formula?" the other elder asked, picking up the sheet.
"Yeah—Yang Fan said he bought it from somewhere."
Normally obsessed with alchemy, Yang Wudi didn't even spare the formula a glance.
Right now, nothing—not formulas, not pills, not even the clan's future—mattered more than Yang Fan's safety.
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