The rear mountain of Yunluo City lay about five kilometers from the Breaking Clan's settlement.
After every training session, Yang Fan would run all the way back.
For him now, covering that five-kilometer stretch after an intense workout took only twenty-five minutes.
"Yang Fan's back!"
"That rascal went running up the rear mountain again."
"Tomorrow's the Martial Soul Awakening Ceremony—go awaken a Level 7 innate soul power and bring honor to our Breaking Clan!"
"…"
The clan members greeted him warmly as he returned—not just because he was the patriarch's only grandson, but more importantly, because of his relentless effort.
While other children were still toddling around in split-crotch pants playing with mud, Yang Fan was already lifting two stones to build strength.
Although the Breaking Clan's children all underwent systematic training arranged by the family, it was mandatory—nothing compared to Yang Fan's self-driven, almost obsessive dedication.
So whenever their own kids acted up, parents would scold them while gritting their teeth: "Look at Yang Fan! Look at what Yang Fan does!"
"I'm back, Second Uncle, Third Auntie," Yang Fan replied politely as he jogged toward the courtyard where he lived.
Just as he was about to head inside to strip off his sweaty clothes and soak in a warm bath, he saw his grandfather, Yang Wudi, standing right at the doorway.
"Off training again?"
Yang Wudi was a tall, lean elder.
Though already over sixty, his complexion remained ruddy, and his hair—still jet-black and neatly combed—showed no sign of age.
His face, lined with wrinkles, often looked stern, and his sharp, hawk-like eyes gave off an intimidating aura.
He'd grown cold and distant in front of the clan ever since the sect's downfall robbed him of any reason to smile.
Yet whenever he looked at Yang Fan, warmth and tenderness would unconsciously soften his gaze.
"You're back," Yang Wudi said.
Yang Fan nodded, slightly dazed.
"Get some rest early," his grandfather added. "Tomorrow's our family's Awakening Ceremony—don't go running up the rear mountain again."
He gently squeezed Yang Fan's arm, his expression softening with paternal affection.
Ever since his son had been killed by the Spirit Hall, Yang Wudi had placed all his hopes on this grandson.
Looking at Yang Fan—now as sturdy as a young bull—he couldn't help but smile inwardly. Maybe, just maybe, the boy really would awaken with Level 7 innate soul power tomorrow, the highest in the clan's history, just as everyone hoped.
After Yang Wudi left, Yang Fan closed the door and peeked through the crack.
"Master, Grandfather's gone."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a faint wisp of white mist drifted from behind him. Yao Lao appeared, hands clasped behind his back, hovering calmly in the center of the room.
"Quick—strip down and get into the bath barrel to cultivate."
With a casual flick of his translucent hand, Yao Lao pulled a small green vial from the spatial ring on his finger—the Foundation-Building Spirit Liquid.
Their arrivals in Soul Land had been very different.
Yang Fan had transmigrated as a newborn infant—arriving completely bare.
Yao Lao, however, had been a soul fragment swept through a temporal rift—and still wore his spatial ring upon arrival. Unlike in Battle Through the Heavens, this time the ring wasn't hidden away; it sat openly on his finger.
Two drops of the spirit liquid fell into the bathwater. Instantly, Yang Fan felt a torrent of energy flood into his body.
This had been his nightly ritual since age four:
Body tempering with the Foundation-Building Spirit Liquid.
The concoction activated latent potential and refined the physical form.
After all, hadn't Xiao Yan himself ascended to Flame Emperor through this very method? It was the ultimate foundation-strengthening technique for any cultivator.
Yang Fan considered himself incredibly lucky that Soul Land had Purple Leaf Orchid Grass and Bone-Refining Flowers—the exact herbs needed to brew this liquid.
And best of all—they were cheap!
Not because they were abundant, but because no one here knew how to properly use them.
As for the Grade-1 wood-element demon core normally required in the formula, Yao Lao substituted it with century-old plant-type soul beasts.
Though Yao Lao always grumbled that this version was far less potent without a true demon core, to Yang Fan, it was still the best body-forging medicine imaginable.
At first, he needed an entire night to absorb the liquid's effects. Now, just one hour sufficed.
When he slowly opened his eyes again, his whole body thrummed with indescribable comfort, brimming with vitality.
The bathwater, once pale green, had now turned completely clear.
"Excellent, excellent," Yao Lao murmured, stroking his beard with a gentle, elder-like smile.
More progress!
Yang Fan's current physical strength could easily rival that of the Breaking Clan's Soul Grandmasters.
"Thank you, Master," Yang Fan said softly.
Every pore in his body seemed to open wide, and boundless energy surged through his limbs.
His master had once told him: this sensation signaled the shift from quantitative accumulation to qualitative transformation—his body was finally internalizing the liquid's essence.
"Rest now," Yao Lao said. "Tomorrow holds something far more important for us master and disciple."
With those words, he dissolved into a wisp of white smoke and vanished.
Alone in bed, Yang Fan stared up at the starry sky.
Sleep wouldn't come.
Tomorrow's Martial Soul Awakening Ceremony would decide his fate in Soul Land…
…
The next day.
Dawn had barely broken, yet Yang Fan was already up—wide awake despite having not slept a wink all night.
He dressed quickly and headed to the Breaking Clan's sparring area.
He thought he'd arrived early—but to his surprise, a dozen or so clan members were already scattered across the grounds.
Clearly, he wasn't the only one too anxious to sleep.
The adults greeted him warmly.
But the children his age? Their faces held subtle hostility.
It's this damn overachiever who made our childhoods miserable!
Adults and kids alike viewed Yang Fan differently—but every single one of them bore unmistakable tension and solemnity.
In Soul Land, the Martial Soul Awakening was far more critical than the college entrance exam back in his previous life.
Fail the exam? You could still rely on your parents' connections.
Awaken a trash martial soul? Even if your father were a Title Douluo, you'd likely never break past the rank of Soul Grandmaster.
Yang Fan hadn't stood in the arena long before the crowd swelled, nearly filling the entire space.
Then, Yang Wudi arrived with two elders in tow.
Yang Fan glanced over—his grandfather's sharp eyes gleamed with exhaustion.
He didn't sleep either…
"Everyone, quiet!" Yang Wudi announced. "The Martial Soul Awakening Ceremony begins now. Children, line up here."
Two elders presided over the ceremony—one handling soul awakening, the other measuring soul power.
The lead elder stepped forward and retrieved an Awakening Stone from his storage-type soul tool. Instantly, a six-pointed star array materialized at the center of the arena.
"One by one."
The children formed a line as instructed. Yang Fan took his place at the very end.
And so, the ceremony began…
"Soul Breaking Spear!"
"Soul Breaking Spear!"
"…"
For most clan members, there was little suspense or surprise—no strange or unexpected martial souls appeared.
Everything was orderly, harmonious, and predictable.
Yang Wudi watched with quiet satisfaction. A stable lineage, loving families—it was all he could ask for.
Soon…
It was Yang Fan's turn.
"Haaah…"
Even he couldn't stay calm at this moment that would shape his destiny.
His insides twisted like tangled rope.
Part of him desperately hoped to awaken a martial soul stronger than the Soul Breaking Spear—to lead his clan to glory.
Yet another part feared awakening some bizarre, useless soul that would mark him as an outcast.
Stepping into the center of the array, he closed his eyes and focused inward, waiting.
Huuuum…
Within moments, he felt a surge of power stir deep within—rushing steadily toward his right hand.
His right arm lifted almost involuntarily, drawn upward by that force.
Yang Fan slowly opened his eyes.
In the palm of his right hand, a fiery red silhouette began to take shape…
------------------------------------------------------
Double Chapters Chapters Ahead: patreon.com/EphemeralShadow
There's something for free patrons too! Free Patrons receive 1 chapter in advance :)