Registration was a blur. Chen Fan scribbled his name, flashed his certificate from Lu Feng, and snatched his student badge before the registrar could even finish a sentence. To the faculty, he was just another overeager commoner. To himself, he was a protagonist with a cheat code.
He didn't wait for the academy-sponsored hunting group. Leaving the gates, he triggered Ghost Walk. His body faded into a grey blur, skimming over the main road toward the Spirit Hunting Forest.
The Principal's Pursuit
Back at the academy, Dean Long Han stared at the registration form. Innate Full Spirit Power? From a village near Holy Spirit? "Where is the boy?" Long Han asked the registrar.
"He... he ran out toward the forest, sir. Said he didn't need a carriage."
Long Han's face paled. A six-year-old with no ring, no matter how talented, was just a snack for a century-old beast.
"Foolish child!" Long Han roared. He roared as he summoned his Martial Soul—an Iron-Armored Rhino. His muscles bulked, and thick, grey plates covered his skin. He was a Level 42 Spirit Ancestor, a powerhouse of defense and strength.
He lunged toward the forest, his heavy footsteps cracking the pavement. But as he looked at the horizon, he saw only a faint, shimmering distortion in the air.
"How is he so fast?!" Long Han wheezed, his massive frame struggling to keep pace with the ethereal speed of a ghost.
The Forest: Theory vs. Reality
Chen Fan crossed the forest perimeter, slipping through the iron fences without a sound. In the web novels he'd read back on Earth, the protagonist usually slapped a beast, the ring appeared, and they leveled up. It seemed mechanical.
"Found the ravine," Chen Fan whispered, his Specter hovering behind him.
The air was thick with the scent of rotting leaves and something metallic. Suddenly, the hairs on his neck stood up. He triggered his invisibility, his body melting into the shadows of a giant banyan tree.
I'm invisible. I'm safe, he thought.
He was wrong.
The Hunter Becomes the Hunted
A low growl vibrated in the humid air. From the dense thicket emerged a Spotted Gale Panther. It was roughly 300 years old, its fur a chaotic pattern of black and yellow. It didn't look at Chen Fan; it tilted its nose up, sniffing the air aggressively.
Snap!
The Panther's head whipped toward the tree where Chen Fan stood. Even in his ghost state, Chen Fan had a scent—a cold, metallic aura that smelled like ozone and old graves. To a predator whose primary sense was smell, Chen Fan wasn't invisible; he was a glowing beacon of "foreign prey."
Before Chen Fan could react, the Panther pounced.
"Wait—!"
Chen Fan tried to dodge, but his "Ghost Walk" only offered weightlessness, not physical intangibility. The Panther's claws, imbued with wind energy, tore through the air. Chen Fan felt a searing pain across his shoulder as he was slammed into the trunk of the tree.
The Specter hissed, its violet eyes flaring, but it had no offensive skills yet. It was just a floating observer to its master's impending death.
The Panther crouched, its muscles coiling for a killing strike at the boy's throat. The reality hit Chen Fan like a bucket of ice water: In Soul Land, a level 10 without a ring is just a human.
"Help..." he gasped, his vision blurring.
Just as the Panther leaped, a massive shadow loomed over the clearing.
"First Spirit Skill: Rhino Charge!"