Soft winds moved through the scorched lands of the abandoned Wolf Tribe territory, dragging along patches of dust and wilted grass. The sky above was stained with hues of grey and crimson, a lingering echo of the fierce battle that had taken place just days ago. The air still trembled faintly, as if haunted by the energy of countless techniques.
Mike and Jian Dao stood amidst the broken terrain, silent as they surveyed their surroundings. In the middle of this wasteland, nestled between two jagged cliffs, was something out of place a narrow, radiant slit of light glowing between two massive slabs of stone, almost like nature itself had bowed to guard what lay within.
As they stepped toward the glowing slit, the rocks responded. With a subtle hum and a gentle grind, the gap widened just enough to welcome them. Dust spilled down from the top edges as if warning them they were entering something sacred. A warm breeze exhaled from the opening unusual for a cave and carried with it a scent like dry wood and old parchment.
They entered.
Mike's eyes widened the moment he stepped inside. He froze in place, jaw slightly open. What he expected to be a damp and lifeless cavern was anything but. The inside was magnificent faulted ceilings supported by carved obsidian pillars, etched in golden script, glowing faintly with ancient spirit runes. The stone floor reflected the light of suspended lanterns, flickering with blue fire. Ornate tapestries hung from the walls, still swaying as if someone had just passed through.
"Master…" Mike's voice trembled in awe, "What is this place? It's like... a palace hidden in the belly of stone."
Jian Dao smiled, his voice echoing softly through the vast chamber. "This, Mike, is Ruha's Burial Palace. The place where the first wielder of the hammer Ruha spent his final days. He built all this himself. Even at death's door, he lived like a king."
Mike whispered, "He really was a king of his own happiness…"
They walked further, their boots tapping softly across stone pathways lined with delicate carvings of elephants majestic, powerful, sorrowful each one caught in motion, as if alive. Ivy crawled across a few walls, glowing faintly green in contrast with the gold-rimmed designs.
Then Mike paused. His eyes locked on a raised platform near the end of the great hall. In its center stood a short pillar, and atop it rested something wrapped in silence and dust.
"Master!" Mike called. "There… on that stage!"
They rushed forward. As they approached, Mike slowed down, gazing at the hammer resting on the pedestal. It was large, forged of strange iron and thick copper veins, its surface rough and etched with unspoken pain. It was rusted at the edges, and cracks ran through its length but even in that brokenness, there was a power that demanded reverence.
"This… this is it," Mike whispered. "But… it looks so old, so... forgotten."
Jian Dao nodded. "That's the Thousand-Trunked Soul Hammer. Age has taken its shine, but its soul never fades. And now… it waits."
Mike looked around. "Should we wake Old Huo? Maybe he'd want to see this."
Jian Dao waved a hand. "Let him rest. He's earned it. You, Mike, go. Put one drop of your blood upon it."
Mike stepped forward, his breath steady, and extended his finger. A small cut. A single crimson drop fell onto the hammer's cold metal. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then vibrations.
The blood soaked into the hammer's cracks, glowing blue-black as it traveled through the etched lines of both hammer and pedestal, then spread across the floor like lightning-shaped veins. The energy climbed the walls and surged upward through the roof of the cave and into the heavens. The clouds turned black and spiraled above the cliff.
A deep voice low, ancient, echoing from every stone in the cave spoke:
"A low-ranked cultivator… but with vision beyond the mist. The soul that dares walk a difficult path… is accepted."
Another voice, heavier and more regal, followed:
"I am Ruha. In my name and will, I accept this boy as the next bearer of my legacy. The hammer shall follow him now."
Then a chorus of overlapping voices surged through the cave:
"We are the souls of the thousand A-Class elephants. We sacrificed for this hammer. We judge your bloodline. We judge your soul. We accept Mike Yeager, heir of Eldon Yeager, of the Yeager Clan of the Realm World."
Mike's body began to glow. The blue-black energy danced around him, coating him in pulsing patterns.
His muscles tightened, and his frame grew. His hair lengthened, waving behind him. Golden strips of armor formed around him like threads weaving metal, wrapping him in a radiant, divine war suit.
His grip closed around the hammer as it lifted itself into his hand light as a feather, yet as heavy as fate.
The chamber fell silent.
Jian Dao stepped forward, his eyes glinting with pride. "You've grown, Mike. Not just in power… but in presence. The hammer suits you."
Suddenly, far above, in the skies just outside the territory three shadows flew through the air. Han Zetsu, Bao Wuhen, and Ru Fenglie.
Bao stretched his limbs, his voice sharp, "Finally, we've crossed the cursed lands."
Ru Fenglie nodded. "But something's wrong. The wolves fled before we got here… what scared them?"
And then, the sky cracked open with light.
They all looked up to see a towering pillar of blue-black energy pierce the clouds and slam back into the earth. A pulse of force shook the air but the blast didn't destroy anything. It was like a storm's breath terrifying but focused.
Han Zetsu narrowed his eyes, smiling cruelly. "There they are."
Back in the cave, Mike, still catching his breath, turned to Jian Dao.
"Master… that voice… that hammer-maker… he spoke of my family. My father. My clan. He knew me better than I know myself. Who is he?"
Jian Dao turned, walking slowly toward the hammer's pedestal. "That… doesn't matter now. In time, Mike, you'll know. When you're ready."
Mike frowned. "You always say that."
"And I'll keep saying it," Jian Dao said with a smirk. "Now stop complaining. What's your new rank?"
Mike focused, the armor dimming and fading into sparks. "I broke through. I'm Dou Kuang 1 star."
"Fast," Jian Dao muttered. "Your pace is dangerous… but understandable. Powerful artifacts, dangerous growth. Be cautious. Power gained too fast burns too hot."
Then, his tone sharpened. "Wait. Do you feel that?"
Mike stiffened. "Yes. Someone's watching."
"Three, to be exact. Close."
Mike tightened his grip around the hammer. "Are they enemies?"
Jian Dao inhaled deeply, voice grim. "Let's find out. You'll fight without Old Huo now. You've got a hammer… and your own flame. Let's see if you're ready to stand alone."
Mike's expression hardened. "Yes, Master. Let them come."
From outside, three shadows inched closer, their presence cloaked but undeniable.