The flame hovering above Sanhartha's palm wavered gently, then faded away.
He lowered his hand and remained still for a moment, sensing the quiet warmth flowing back into his body. There was no backlash, no lingering heat scorching his skin. The soul power he had just released returned smoothly, as though it had never left him at all.
That was what unsettled him.
Not long ago, even producing such a small flame required deliberate restraint. He had needed to suppress its nature constantly, ensuring it did not surge or scatter. Now, the flame responded with ease — calm, obedient, almost instinctive.
It no longer felt like something he was forcing into existence.
It felt natural.
Sanhartha closed his fingers slowly. The warmth within his meridians settled, steady and controlled, like embers buried beneath ash. This change had come quietly after the absorption of his first soul ring — not as a soul skill, but as something deeper, woven into his body itself.
Satisfied for the moment, he turned and left the secluded valley, heading back toward Notting Junior Soul Master Academy.
The journey into the Soul Hunting Forest surfaced in his thoughts.
Although he had only applied for a month's leave, tracking the Ember-Scaled Lizard and waiting for the right moment to strike had taken longer than expected. Several days had slipped by unnoticed. Fortunately, Uncle Mo had already been informed in advance, preventing any unnecessary complications.
As the academy walls came into view, Sanhartha's thoughts shifted to a more pressing matter.
Money.
The gold soul coins left behind by his parents were enough to ensure a stable life for an ordinary child. But for a soul master, that amount was insignificant. Cultivation demanded resources — medicines, equipment, travel, and eventually stronger soul rings. Each step forward would require far more than careful budgeting.
Yet registering as a soul master at the Spirit Hall was not an option.
Explaining how he had reached Rank 10 at such an age, with having a level 4 innate soul power would only invite attention he was not yet prepared to face.
Without registration, there would be no Spirit Hall subsidy.
For now, he would have to rely on himself.
Upon returning to the academy, Sanhartha first reported his return to the teachers, answering their questions briefly and without embellishment. Once the formalities were complete, he made his way back to the seventh dormitory.
Wang Sheng and the other working students noticed him almost immediately. They gathered around, asking whether anything had gone wrong during his absence. Sanhartha replied calmly, assuring them that nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Satisfied, they soon returned to their own affairs.
Sanhartha lay back on his bedding, listening to the familiar sounds of the dormitory. The atmosphere felt unchanged.
Noble students like Xiao Chenyu and his followers still occasionally targeted working students. Sharp remarks, subtle mockery, deliberate inconveniences — the same old patterns. It was irritating, but rarely dangerous. Sanhartha observed it all with detached indifference.
He had not come here to argue over status.
Strength would speak when the time came.
The following days passed in a steady rhythm.
At dawn, Sanhartha cultivated in the valley, circulating the Three Treasures Refining Visualization Technique as usual. His soul power flowed smoothly, without resistance, and the warmth within his body remained stable. During the day, he attended classes, absorbing knowledge patiently. In the afternoons, he returned to the valley once more — not to push his limits, but to understand himself.
The changes within him continued to reveal themselves gradually.
Flame no longer resisted his intent. Its temperature, density, and movement responded with subtle precision, as though his body understood fire better than before. This was not an increase in raw strength, nor something he could quantify as a skill.
It was foundation.
A quiet transformation, similar to how certain soul masters subtly took on the traits of their soul beasts over time.
Sanhartha exhaled slowly.
With this level of control, future techniques would no longer rely on brute force. Efficiency and refinement would become his advantage.
After training, he often sat beside the spring, watching clear water flow endlessly past stone and root. The stillness allowed his thoughts to settle.
As a transmigrator, he knew many ways to earn money. Some could bring wealth quickly. Some could reshape industries. But all of them shared the same flaw — they were too conspicuous.
In this world, sudden success without backing or strength was dangerous.
Tang San had chosen blacksmithing during his academy days.
Sanhartha chose something quieter.
In his previous life, he had been skilled at massage. Here, soul masters trained relentlessly, pushing their bodies far beyond ordinary limits, yet rarely paid attention to recovery. Fatigue accumulated. Minor injuries lingered. Circulation stagnated.
Few noticed.
Fewer cared.
Sanhartha's gaze sharpened slightly.
Subtle. Sustainable. Invisible ".
There was no need to rush. Some paths were meant to be walked slowly, step by step.
The spring continued to flow, indifferent to ambition and hesitation alike.