The morning mist hung low over Frostleaf Hamlet, curling like lazy ghosts between stone paths and dew-wet rooftops.
The sun, not yet high enough to warm the earth, bathed everything in pale gold — light that didn't quite reach the bones.
Villagers stirred early today.
Clothes were hung, not to dry, but to display.
Smoke danced from chimneys carrying the scent of morning porridge and charred bread crusts.
The sleepy hum of chickens was interrupted only by children's nervous giggles and scoldings from too-tidy parents.
Today was not an ordinary day.
Today was Spirit Awakening Day.
I walked the path to the square with the others, feet bare, the cool dirt soft beneath my toes.
My tunic was stiff with yesterday's washwater, patched too many times to hide the fray.
My hair, though combed with fingers, still curled rebelliously. A smudge of last night's ash clung to my sleeve.
Perfect.
Forgettable.
A breeze rolled through the hamlet, carrying with it the scent of incense from Granny Liu's spirit shrine and the sharp tang of wild onions from the market corner.
The atmosphere buzzed — not celebratory, not festive — but tense, like the pause before a coin falls.
The village square was simple: a wide patch of packed earth flanked by two prayer poles and the village hall, its timber walls weathered by age.
Crude decorations were hung — paper talismans, dried herbs, red-thread charms — more for tradition than beauty.
At the center stood the Awakening Platform, a low stone pedestal engraved with Spirit Hall runes, pulsing faintly with suppressed soul energy.
And beside it stood two figures in pristine white robes.
Spirit Hall examiners.
The elder, a man in his late forties, had a square jaw, silver-streaked hair tied in a warrior's tail, and a long scar running from temple to jaw.
His badge glimmered with two soul cores — low-tier, perhaps, but polished and sharp as a sword's edge.
The younger was a woman, lean and severe, with her hair cut to the chin and a hawkish gaze that flicked like a blade from child to child.
Her expression never shifted — not cold, not cruel — but focused. Surgical.
She adjusted a small box at her hip. A Soul Detection Tool, likely tuned for recording power levels and Martial Soul resonance.
The villagers gathered on straw mats, whispering.
Children lined up with trembling hands and straightened collars.
Some were excited.
Most were terrified.
One was me.
The first child stepped forward — Tao Min, a round-faced boy with a nervous smile and a tunic too tight around the middle.
"Place your hand on the crystal," the woman said, voice clipped but not unkind.
He obeyed.
The stone disk glowed faintly.
Martial Soul: Iron Pot
Soul Power: 0
Murmurs.
A few sighs.
The boy's mother clutched his shoulders tightly as he walked back.
He blinked rapidly, not sure whether to cry or not.
The ceremony moved on.
A girl awakened a grinding stone.
A timid boy got a fan.
Another child — tall and quiet — awakened a wooden fishing spear and was found to have Soul Power: Rank 2.
That one got a few nods of approval.
Then came Li Nian — daughter of the village baker, known for her pretty eyes and sharper tongue.
She walked with confidence, hands folded neatly.
Her palm touched the crystal.
A shimmer of green light exploded upward in a soft spiral.
Martial Soul: Green Vine
Soul Power: Rank 3
Now the whispers grew loud.
Even the male examiner looked up with interest.
"Promising. Add her to the outer candidate list," the woman said, jotting it down.
Li Nian walked away with her chin higher.
And then came Huo Yuhao.
He moved slowly, quietly, shoulders hunched.
His simple tunic hung loose on a frame too thin for his age.
No one whispered.
No one clapped.
Only silence greeted him.
He stepped forward, placed his hand on the disk.
A pulse of silver-blue light burst outward like a ripple in water.
Martial Soul: Spirit Eye
Soul Power: 1
Another rare Martial Soul — but with no power.
The woman stared at him for a moment too long.
She didn't say anything.
Huo Yuhao bowed politely and returned to the side of the square, eyes lowered.
Then it was my turn.
"Lin Fan," the examiner called.
The crowd murmured. Some curious. Some confused.
Most had forgotten I was even there.
I walked forward with even steps.
No bravado.
No fear.
Just calm.
The examiner's eyes skimmed me briefly. "State your age."
"Six."
She gestured to the disk. "Place your hand."
I did.
At once, I felt a tug — as though the stone was trying to peel away the mask I'd wrapped around my soul.
A faint red glow radiated from the disk, subtle but distinct — enough to draw a few gasps.
Martial Soul: Unknown Variant Eye-Type
Soul Power: Rank 1
The woman narrowed her eyes. "Another visual-type? That's two this year."
The male examiner stepped forward, curious.
"Is it a mutation? Possibly related to the Spirit Eye?"
"Too weak to tell. He's barely at Rank 1," she said flatly.
They moved on.
No one stopped me.
No one dug deeper.
I stepped off the platform.
My system buzzed quietly.
[Status Updated: Sharingan Martial Soul]
[Passive Ability: Imagine Breaker (Right Hand)]
[Soul Power: Rank 1]
In the crowd, I saw Li Nian smiling smugly.
I saw Huo Yuhao, seated alone, expression unreadable.
No one saw me.
That was the idea.
The ceremony ended shortly after. The village settled into its usual rhythms — dull, dust-colored, and filled with mild disappointment.
Even those who awakened power knew what came next: back-breaking study, spirit beast hunts, and years of clawing for rank.
But me?
I had a system.
And right now, it blinked softly in the back of my mind:
[Bonus Pull Unlocked: Post-Awakening Milestone]
[Spinning...]
I ducked behind the spirit tree on the south hill, out of sight, near the half-broken shrine stone that no one visited anymore.
My system pinged.
[You have received: Passive Skill – Breathing Technique (Lv.1)]
[Always Active.
Absorbs environmental spirit energy automatically.
Fully assimilates pill-type items.
High efficiency.]
[Warning: Absorption may cause... unusual sensory overload.]
My stomach dropped.
"Wait, what do you mean 'sensory overloa—'"
The wind shifted.
I inhaled.
And immediately, my entire body spasmed.
It felt like drinking sunlight.
Like being dipped in honey and electrocuted at the same time.
My fingers curled.
My legs buckled.
My spine arched.
And I moaned.
Not a groan.
Not a grunt.
A full-body, trembling moan that echoed off the tree bark like I was starring in the wrong kind of story.
"Ahhh—!"
I slapped both hands over my mouth.
Too late.
Birds scattered from the branches. Somewhere down the hill, a goat bleated in confusion.
My body shuddered again as the spirit energy in the area flowed into me like a tidal wave.
I could feel it pushing into every pore, every cell — hyper-efficient, perfectly digested.
And wildly euphoric.
When it finally calmed, I lay on the grass, twitching.
"Wh-what the hell was that...?"
I sat up slowly, hair wild, face flushed, shirt damp with sweat.
"System," I whispered, "are you messing with me?"
Skill is functioning normally. Congratulations.
This was a disaster.
A powerful, broken, cultivation-accelerating disaster.
And if this was what it felt like at Level 1…
What would happen when I reached Level 10?
Or walked into a spirit forest full of dense energy?
...I needed a soundproof cave.
Immediately.