The rooster's crow shattered the stillness of the early morning.
Jin Yang opened his eyes to find a soft light creeping in through the cracks in the wooden walls. The air was crisp, carrying the earthy scent of dew-soaked soil. For a moment, he just lay there, listening to the muted clatter of pots from neighboring houses and the gentle snorts of Uncle Ma's horses.
Today was the day.
In the past, Surya Pratama had faced job interviews, tight deadlines, and the occasional debt collector, but nothing compared to the weight pressing down on him now. This was the moment that decided the trajectory of every child's life on the Douluo Continent.
He sat up slowly, his heart drumming in his chest.
This was supposed to be just another Martial Soul Awakening Ceremony for the village, but for him, it was more than that. It was the first step toward breaking free from the fate of being "the abandoned son of a coachman."
"You're up early," Uncle Ma's gruff voice sounded from the doorway.
Jin Yang turned to see the old man leaning against the frame, his calloused hands crossed over his chest. Despite his usual sternness, there was a softness in the old man's eyes this morning.
"I'll take you to the village hall myself," Uncle Ma said, tossing him a piece of freshly baked flatbread. "Eat. A hungry stomach won't awaken anything but hunger."
Jin Yang smiled faintly, taking a bite. The bread was coarse, but it was warm—just like the old man's silent care.
"You nervous?" Uncle Ma asked after a moment.
"A little," Jin Yang admitted.
"Don't be," the old man grunted. "Whatever soul you awaken, it's still yours. A man's worth isn't just his martial soul—it's what he does with it."
Jin Yang swallowed hard. The words were simple, but they carried a weight that lodged itself in his heart.
By the time they reached the village square, the air was buzzing with chatter. Parents clustered in small groups, children bouncing on their toes with excitement—or trembling with fear.
The hall itself was a sturdy stone building, larger than most houses in the village. A banner fluttered over the entrance: Martial Soul Awakening – Red Willow Village, Year 787.
Inside, the smell of incense mixed with the faint tang of spirit energy. At the far end of the hall stood a tall man in silver-and-blue robes, a badge gleaming on his chest. His presence alone commanded silence—this was the Spirit Master sent from the nearby city to conduct the ceremony.
Jin Yang recognized him instantly from his memories—well, not the man himself, but his type. This was a Level 26 Grandmaster-class Spirit Master, the kind often assigned to rural awakenings.
The man's gaze swept over the gathered children. "Line up. Age order. We begin now."
One by one, the children stepped forward.
The Spirit Master would have them stand inside a hexagonal array carved into the floor. Six pale stones at the points of the hexagon pulsed faintly with light—these were Spirit Conduction Stones, used to channel energy into the body and awaken the martial soul.
When the stones lit up, each child's martial soul would manifest in their hand or around their body, sometimes with glowing effects, sometimes with barely any light at all. Then the Spirit Master would place a hand on their head, sensing their innate soul power.
The first child, a boy named Li Tao, awakened a Wooden Spoon. No innate soul power. The villagers murmured in sympathy.
The second, Mei Xiu, awakened a Wild Onion Plant. No soul power either.
Jin Yang stood in line, his turn creeping closer with each step.
When his name was called, the hall fell quieter than before. Even the other children seemed to hold their breath.
Jin Yang stepped into the array. The Spirit Master's eyes flicked over him briefly, perhaps noting the worn clothes, the patched knees.
"Close your eyes," the Spirit Master instructed. "Relax. Let the energy flow through you."
The stones around him began to hum. A soft light rose from the floor, swirling up around his legs, then his torso, then into his head like a warm tide.
At first, Jin Yang felt nothing but that warmth. Then—
A pulse.
Not from the stones, but from deep inside his chest. It spread outward in golden waves, filling every fiber of his being. Images flashed in his mind—an endless sky, a blazing sun, the silhouette of a man in golden armor standing atop a battlefield, bow drawn, eyes burning with unshakable resolve.
The warmth surged to his right hand. Instinctively, he opened his palm.
Light exploded from his hand—not the soft glow of most awakenings, but a blinding radiance like midday sun.
Gasps echoed through the hall. Some villagers shielded their eyes. Even the Spirit Master took an involuntary step back.
When the light faded, a bow rested in Jin Yang's grip. It was unlike any bow the villagers had ever seen—its body forged of golden light, intricate patterns etched along the limbs, each pattern shimmering faintly like molten sunlight.
The air around him seemed to ripple with heat. Even without pulling the string, Jin Yang could feel the bow's weight—not physical, but spiritual, as if it was demanding recognition of its power.
The Spirit Master's voice was unusually low. "This… is no ordinary martial soul."
"Place your hand on the crystal," the Spirit Master instructed after a moment, his composure returning.
Jin Yang obeyed, placing his left palm against the smooth blue surface of the Soul Power Crystal.
The crystal lit instantly—not dimly, not slowly, but in a rush, filling entirely in less than a second. Murmurs erupted around the hall.
The Spirit Master's brows rose. "Innate full soul power… level 10."
Shock rippled through the crowd. Full soul power was rare in the cities; in a small village like this, it was unheard of.
"Boy," the Spirit Master asked carefully, "do you know what this means?"
Jin Yang met his gaze steadily. "It means I can begin cultivating immediately."
The Spirit Master nodded, though his eyes lingered on the golden bow for a long moment. "Indeed. But it also means your life just changed forever."
The hall erupted with whispers.
"Full soul power? From the coachman's boy?"
"What kind of martial soul is that? It looked like… sunlight."
"Could it be a divine-grade martial soul?"
The two boys who had mocked him yesterday stared at him with wide eyes, their earlier arrogance replaced by something else—fear.
Uncle Ma stood silently near the back, his eyes glistening. He didn't smile, but his hand gripped the edge of his coat tightly.
Jin Yang didn't say a word. Inside, Surya Pratama's mind was racing. A bow of light, full innate soul power… this was no coincidence. This was Karna's legacy, reborn in him.
As the ceremony ended and the children filed out, the Spirit Master called out to him.
"Jin Yang, stay behind."
When they were alone, the man's tone shifted. "You must be careful. A martial soul like yours… will draw attention. Not all of it good."
Jin Yang nodded. He already knew. In Soul Land, power was a blessing, but it was also a beacon to those who wanted to claim it—or destroy it.
Outside, the sun was rising higher, casting long shadows across the village square.
For Jin Yang, the path ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: he would not be a pawn of fate. He would not bow to the world.
Like Karna before him, he would fight under the blazing sun… until the world remembered his name.