Evening descended quietly upon Brightleaf Village. The memory of his awakening still lingered in his mind — the weightless brilliance of the phoenix, and the faint echo of a world long left behind. The sky, still flushed with sunset, cast long shadows across the wooden cottages. At the chief's home, the soft light of an oil lamp flickered, painting gentle warmth upon the old man's lined face.
"San boy," Old Luo called, his voice carrying both age and affection, "come here and sit. Grandpa has something to tell you."
Sanhartha approached, his small frame steady, eyes bright with curiosity. "What is it, Grandpa?"
Old Luo looked at him for a long moment before sighing softly. "You've always asked about your parents. Tonight, you'll have your answer."
Sanhartha's breath caught slightly. Since his earliest memories in this world, that question had always been met with silence. Now, the veil would finally lift.
He sat down obediently, hands resting on his knees. "I'm listening."
The old man's gaze softened. "Your parents were soul masters. Your father reached the rank of Grand Soul Master — your mother, a Soul Master with one ring. Their names were San Yan and Hei Hearth. Years ago, they were members of a soul-hunting team called the Starlight Hunters. After a dangerous mission, you were brought to me by their leader, Mo Fan. He left a pouch in my care, saying it should be given to you only after your awakening."
He reached into a drawer and withdrew a small pouch, its surface etched with faintly glowing lines. It pulsed gently in the dim light, as though responding to Sanhartha's presence.
"Take it," Old Luo said. "Whatever it holds, it is your inheritance."
Sanhartha accepted it reverently. The fabric felt warm, alive with quiet energy. "Thank you, Grandpa."
Old Luo nodded slowly. "Three months from now, I'll send you to Notting Junior Soul Master Academy — he mused that on Blue Star, power lay in wealth and machines; here, it walked in the open, shaped by spirit and will —. Until then, focus on your cultivation. When you're strong enough, you may seek the truth yourself."
Sanhartha bowed his head. "I understand."
That night, beneath the soft glow of the oil lamp, he sat alone in his small hut. The pouch rested on his knees, its faint light spilling across the wooden floor.
"My father… my mother…" he whispered. "Both soul masters. Then this blood carries their will."
He took a deep breath and summoned his martial soul. Behind him, the Desire Heart Phoenix appeared — a faint, crimson silhouette, its feathers flickering like living embers. Warmth spread through his veins, not burning, but resolute. He could sense its depth — something far beyond ordinary flames.
The Desire Heart Phoenix... born of union, tempered by will.
He focused inward, attempting to guide the faint threads of soul power through his meridians. Without a teacher, the process was clumsy, yet he persisted. Days passed, marked by silent effort and the faint hum of power slowly awakening. On the sixth day, his control began to respond to intent — halting but real. A fragile triumph.
Exhausted yet elated, he returned to the pouch. Infusing it with a small pulse of soul power, he felt the symbols shimmer faintly. An image formed in his mind — a small inner space, roughly two cubic meters wide, within which gleamed a modest fortune. Even in another world, it seemed knowledge and tools still served those who dared to understand them.
"One hundred gold soul coins…" he murmured in disbelief. To a child, it was unimaginable wealth. But wonder faded quickly into thought. "Wealth without wisdom only breeds danger."
He soon noticed a folded letter among the coins. Its script was complex, unreadable for now. He replaced it carefully, the weight of curiosity settling like a seed in his heart.
That night, he sat beneath the starlit window. The world outside slept, but within his chest, a quiet determination stirred.
"I will hide what I have. I'll live as a working student. Let them see only what I choose to show."
He glanced upward. The stars shone faintly — cold, distant, and eternal. Somewhere within their silent brilliance, he felt the first whisper of destiny calling.
The faint glow of the phoenix spirit flickered behind his closed eyes, and the air around him warmed. It was not the heat of fire, but the promise of transformation.
Thus began Sanhartha's first true step on the path of a soul master — not through battle, but through resolve.