Outside Notting City, in the village of Lonegrass.
Morning. The rising sun bathed the land in a warm glow, like a gentle facial cleanser. A light breeze blew as white clouds drifted lazily across the sky.
"Children, follow Uncle inside."
In the central village square, in front of a pointed wooden house with a triangular roof and a sword-shaped emblem on the door, an elderly man turned slowly with the help of a cane, his face kind and gentle as he looked at the line of children behind him.
"Yes, Grandpa Village Chief!" the children replied obediently.
Seeing this, the middle-aged man beside the elder nodded and smiled. "Come on, kids, follow me."
He turned and pushed the door open, stepping inside. The children followed in an orderly manner, walking around the elder.
The procession moved slowly. Overhead, clouds gathered on the morning wind, and shadows quickly spread across the ground, dimming the surroundings.
Boom!
Without warning, a blinding flash of lightning tore across the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder.
"It's thundering!"
A shrill scream rang out. A boy in the line collapsed to the ground, leaving a charred patch on the earth.
"Boss! Xiao Hai!" cries of alarm followed, as several children leapt aside.
The concern was genuine; the reactions were honest.
"Whoa, lightning out of a clear sky!" Nearby villagers were stunned and instinctively took several steps back. Their eyes turned toward the scene. The boy lay face down, his legs twitching slightly.
It seemed he wasn't quite dead yet.
Boom!
Another bolt of lightning struck. The boy's body jerked violently, then fell still.
"No way... did Xiao Hai just get struck dead?" a villager murmured.
"Shouldn't be... hasn't he been struck before?" a woman nearby replied uncertainly.
The villagers exchanged theories, but none dared approach.
The morning breeze continued, clouds rolling rapidly. Sunlight pierced through gaps in the sky and shone on the boy's body, making it glimmer faintly.
Two seconds passed. A third lightning strike didn't follow.
Phew!
Seeing the opportunity, the middle-aged man who had run out earlier dashed forward.
In a flash, he reached the fallen boy, grabbed him by the waistband like picking up a chicken, and sprinted back into the house.
Moments later, a voice called out from inside, relieved. "Xiao Hai just fainted. Everyone, come in."
"I knew it! Boss is lucky, he'll be fine!" The children outside instantly looked cheerful, talking big after the danger had passed.
"Come in, children," the old man said with a hint of relief and even a bit of joy in his eyes.
Maybe Xiao Hai will awaken a good spirit, he thought, stepping inside.
The children lined up again and filed in.
Soon, inside the spacious wooden house, the children stood in a neat row. At the front, the middle-aged man stood tall. To the left, a long wooden bench held the unconscious boy, lying peacefully, while the white-haired elder sat beside him.
Before long, the man began calling out.
"Blue Silver Grass. No spirit power."
"Broom. No spirit power."
One by one, the children left the center with disappointed faces.
"Boss will probably awaken something good, right?" a child whispered as another left, glancing at the unconscious boy.
His skin was slightly dark, his features sharp, not handsome, but not ugly either.
The elder beside the bench also looked down at the boy.
Yang Yunhai, he had found this child outside Notting City when he was still a deacon in the Spirit Hall. The boy had been lying under a poplar tree, the sky above filled with drifting clouds, like a sea of mist. Hence the name: Yun (cloud) Hai (sea). He had brought the child back to Lonegrass Village's orphanage.
The name "Lonegrass" came from the idea that the children would grow strong and resilient like Blue Silver Grass. The "lone" part referred to orphans. The village itself had originally been the Notting City Orphanage, jointly run by the Spirit Hall and the Empire. Over time, as orphans grew up and settled around the orphanage, it developed into a small village.
The elder himself had also been an orphan. He awakened a Longbow spirit at age six and, with 2 points of innate spirit power, began his journey as a Spirit Master. Though limited by talent and never able to break through level 29 to become a Spirit Elder, he joined the Spirit Hall as a deacon and later retired as village chief at sixty.
He now also served as the orphanage head, repaying the place that had raised him.
He had found Yang Yunhai in his last year before retirement.
Strangely, this boy seemed to have a unique constitution.
He was struck by lightning every time it rained.
To protect both him and the other children, the elder forbade him from going out on cloudy days. But weather was unpredictable, just like today, when lightning struck out of nowhere on a clear day. He couldn't keep the boy locked indoors forever. Over the past six years, Yang Yunhai had been struck by lightning dozens of times.
But he always survived. After fainting, he would wake up as lively as ever.
The elder had always believed the boy would awaken some rare, lightning-type spirit. Even if it wasn't the famous Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon passed down in one of the three top clans, something close would still be amazing.
He believed the boy's spirit was mutated, because he had already found out the boy's background.
Yang Yunhai had been abandoned by villagers elsewhere. On the night he was born, there had been a fierce thunderstorm. Lightning had split a centuries-old tree in half and set his house on fire. Thankfully, the rain kept it from spreading. But the strange event led the villagers to see him as a cursed child and abandon him on the road near Notting City.
Unusual events usually meant something special. After learning this, the elder had even more hope.
Though Yang Yunhai's parents had weak spirits, bamboo and Blue Silver Grass, and no spirit power, who knew?
What if the lightning strikes were due to a powerful, mutated spirit?
With that hope, the elder taught Yang Yunhai and his grandson everything he knew about spirit masters and spirit beasts. He even gave them his son's illustrated guidebook on spirit beasts, a more detailed resource than what most spirit academies used.
Yang Yunhai's learning ability was impressive. He could read and write at a young age and even rewrote bedtime stories with elements from the spirit beast book. Stories like a phoenix-tailed snake turning into a beautiful girl who fell in love with a human, or ghost-human romance tales.
The kids loved them.
He gained admiration from all the children, and the elder's wife, who no longer had to coax them to sleep at night.
His grandson had since gone to the Spirit Hall's academy. The elder's sons lived in the city with their own families, so the orphanage children became his new purpose.
Yang Yunhai's intelligence and diligence made him even more endearing.
As for telling the boy the truth about his past, the elder decided to wait until he was older. Being abandoned by one's parents could leave lasting emotional scars.
It was better to wait.
He turned back to the spirit awakening ceremony.
One by one, the children stepped forward, but none had spirit power.
"Hm..." With only two children left, a faint groan came from the bench.
Yang Yunhai slowly woke.
"Xiao Hai, how do you feel?" the elder asked with concern.
"I'm okay, Grandpa Tai. Just a bit numb." Yang Yunhai responded quickly, lifting his still-stiff right arm. Fine, red lightning-like patterns spread across his slightly dark skin, like a spiderweb.
These marks were the aftereffects of being struck. Each time, it felt like his blood vessels were being pierced with needles, the shock rushing from the strike point down to his feet, leaving behind those markings.
As an electrical engineering graduate who had run a barely-profitable repair shop in his previous life, he knew these were Lichtenberg figures, caused by the blood vessels rupturing under the high voltage of a lightning strike.
They usually didn't fade. He had dozens, which really affected his looks. He had grown out his hair just to hide the ones on his neck and forehead. Thankfully, his face was unaffected.
Most strikes hit his back. He didn't know why.
But still, surviving dozens of lightning strikes was pretty incredible.
He figured this world had different rules, with things like spirit power. Like the village chief, he believed he had some powerful lightning-type spirit inside him. In transmigration novels, having lightning affinity was pretty standard for someone who died from lightning, right?
Besides, this was the Douluo Continent, he knew it well.
He remembered all the described spirits, including the lightning ones.
Back in middle school, he had been a huge fan of the series. In college, he reread it and grew disillusioned. He went from fan to critic, carefully analyzing the story, even calling himself the "senior brother of the Tang Sect," battling fans online to defend his take.
He swore loyalty to San-ge (Third Brother)!
Think about it, single-handedly defeating a Titled Douluo with hidden weapons? Easy. A god's strength capped at one million jin, or 500 tons, the weight of a crane.
With that in mind, surviving lightning strikes made perfect sense.
Maybe his body had lightning resistance, acting like a living conductor. Or maybe it was his soul?
It all added up.
"Good," the village chief's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"The ceremony is nearly done. Rest a bit more. You'll go last."
"Got it, Grandpa Tai," Yang Yunhai nodded.
Chief Tai, village head and orphanage director, was someone he deeply respected.
He turned to watch the final awakenings.
The last two kids awakened their spirits but still had no spirit power.
"Xiao Hai, it's your turn," the chief said expectantly.
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