The training grounds of the Lin Clan were alive long before sunrise.
Even in the faint blue glow of dawn, wooden posts already bore the marks of countless strikes. The air carried the scent of sweat and crushed dust, mixed with the sharp discipline that had been carved into the clan over generations.
Children gathered in small groups, some eager, others groggy with sleep. For most of them, training was an obligation. For a few, it was ambition.
For Lin Huang, it was necessity.
His breathing was slow and controlled as he stood before a thick wooden post. He could still feel the lingering warmth in his blood from the medicinal bath days ago. That warmth had not faded—it had settled, becoming part of him.
"Inhale. Anchor. Release."
His fist moved.
Thud!
The post trembled slightly.
Lin Huang didn't stop. His movements were methodical, each strike following the rhythm of his breathing technique. It was no longer just about hitting harder; it was about synchronizing his body, breath, and intent.
Around him, a few younger disciples had already slowed down. Some leaned against the posts, panting. Others glanced at Lin Huang with mixed emotions.
Among them stood Lin Haochen.
The boy's clothes were spotless, his posture proud. His training, however, had already ended. He had reached the limit of his stamina and now watched from the sidelines, irritation simmering behind his eyes.
"So that's it?" Lin Haochen scoffed. "That's what everyone's making a fuss about?"
No one responded.
Lin Huang continued striking the post, unfazed.
The instructor overseeing the session nodded faintly. "Your stance is improving. But don't rely only on brute force. Control is more important than raw power."
Lin Huang bowed his head slightly. "Understood."
Lin Haochen's fingers tightened.
"Control?" he muttered. "He hasn't even awakened yet. What control does he think he has?"
The words were meant to sting.
This time, Lin Huang paused.
He turned his head just enough to look at Lin Haochen. "If you're dissatisfied, you can train more instead of watching."
The courtyard fell quiet for a brief moment.
A few of the younger disciples swallowed nervously.
Lin Haochen's face flushed. "You—!"
Before he could continue, the instructor shot him a sharp glance. "Enough. If you have the energy to speak, you have the energy to train."
Lin Haochen clenched his teeth and turned away.
But the resentment did not fade.
By midday, Lin Huang's arms were sore, his legs heavy. Sweat soaked through his clothes, yet his breathing remained steady. The second stage of body cultivation—blood strengthening—was beginning to show its effects. His endurance had increased noticeably, and the dull ache in his muscles faded faster than before.
After a brief rest, he headed toward the clan library.
The building stood at the heart of the inner courtyard, guarded by two elders. Inside, shelves of jade slips and leather-bound manuals lined the walls. Maps of various Spirit Beast territories were pinned across a large table.
Lin Huang approached the maps.
The Star Dou Forest.
Even the name carried weight.
He studied the markings carefully.
Outer Zone: low-year Spirit Beasts, suitable for beginners.Middle Zone: dangerous, unstable.Inner Zone: forbidden territory for anyone below Titled Douluo.
His gaze lingered on several fox-type Spirit Beasts noted near the forest's outer-middle boundary.
"Spirit Fox of Clear Wind…""Moonveil Illusion Fox…""Azure Shadow Fox…"
None were guaranteed to appear. None were guaranteed to be compatible.
Lin Huang exhaled quietly.
Choosing his first Soul Ring was not about power alone. It was about compatibility with his Spirit Martial Soul—and with the strange sensations he had begun to feel during cultivation.
"You're already thinking that far ahead?"
A familiar voice spoke from behind.
Lin Zhenyuan stepped into the library, his presence calm yet imposing. The man's eyes swept over the maps before settling on his son.
"The elders approved your request," he said. "If your training continues at this pace, you'll be allowed to head to Star Dou in one month."
"One month…" Lin Huang murmured.
"Don't rush it," Lin Zhenyuan added. "Your foundation matters more than speed."
Lin Huang nodded. "I understand."
Lin Zhenyuan studied him for a moment longer, then spoke in a quieter tone. "Your grandfather believes you might be walking a different path than most of the clan. Don't let that become a burden. Walk it properly."
Those words lingered even after Lin Zhenyuan left.
That night, Lin Huang sat cross-legged in his room.
He closed his eyes and began circulating his breath slowly.
The world faded.
The warmth in his chest spread again, more clearly this time. His heartbeat echoed in his ears, steady and deep. Within that rhythm, something stirred.
A faint presence.
Not oppressive. Not violent.
Curious.
For a brief moment, he felt as though something within him leaned closer, responding to his focus. The sensation was subtle, like the brush of silk against the soul.
His mind trembled.
…So it really is reacting to me.
The image of translucent tails surfaced again in his thoughts, clearer than before.
Lin Huang's breathing wavered.
The resonance vanished.
He opened his eyes slowly, his back damp with cold sweat.
"So it's not just imagination," he whispered.
The thought sent a chill—and a thrill—through his chest.
Days passed.
The one-month deadline loomed.
Lin Huang's training intensified. He woke before dawn, trained until exhaustion, studied maps and Spirit Beast records at midday, and cultivated deep into the night. The soreness in his muscles no longer lingered as long. His body was adapting.
Lin Haochen watched all of this with growing bitterness.
One afternoon, as Lin Huang left the library, Lin Haochen blocked his path.
"Enjoying the elders' attention?" he sneered. "Don't forget—my father almost became clan leader. You're only standing where you are because of luck."
Lin Huang met his gaze calmly. "If you think luck is enough, you're free to rely on it."
Lin Haochen's expression darkened. "One day, you'll realize talent isn't everything."
"Maybe," Lin Huang replied. "But resentment isn't strength either."
He stepped past him without another word.
That night, Lin Huang lay awake.
Fragments of unfamiliar memories surfaced again—visions of different cultivation paths, worlds where the body was forged before the soul, where inner worlds were tempered through destruction and rebirth.
They didn't feel like dreams.
They felt like echoes.
"…So it's starting," he murmured.
He didn't try to grasp them.
Not yet.
Outside his window, moonlight spilled over the Lin Clan's rooftops.
Beyond the walls, the Star Dou Forest waited.
And for the first time, Lin Huang truly felt it—
The cracks beneath his talent were opening, revealing a path that might not belong to Douluo alone.