Dawn had barely broken over Gray Stone Village when metal cut the cold air.
A six-year-old boy stood barefoot in the hard-packed yard behind a small wooden house. Frost clung to the edges of the well. The wind from the northern plains carried dust and a bite that made ordinary children retreat indoors. But he did not retreat.
In his right hand, an Iron Sword shimmered faintly.
Yesterday, it had appeared in his palm for the first time.
The awakening ceremony had been brief and impersonal. A deacon from the Spirit Hall had arrived from a nearby town.
Children stood in line.
Light flared.
One by one, martial souls emerged.
When it was his turn, pale white radiance gathered at his palm and condensed into a straight-edged iron sword. No patterns. No aura. No brilliance.
"Innate soul power, level 3."
The deacon's tone was enthusiastic as he got a good martial soul with Soul power , he handed over a thin parchment stamped with the seal of Spirit Hall.
A certificate.Proof of awakening.
Name: Wang Yan
Age : 6
Martial Soul: Iron Sword
Eligibility to enroll in a junior soul master academy under the Heaven Dou Empire's jurisdiction.
The sword in his hand was heavier than the wooden blade he had used for two years.
More importantly—
It was connected to him.
A faint stream of soul power flowed from his chest, down his arm, into the Sword.
He stepped forward.
Exhale.
The sword descended in a compact vertical cut.
At the moment of impact—he released a controlled thread of soul power.
Two Years Earlier
When he was four, He started practicing Sword and his daily physical training under his grandfather's guidance.
Training began before sunrise.
First came physical conditioning.
Running around the perimeter of the village, Carrying buckets filled halfway with water, Squat holds in horse stance, Push-ups on clenched fists, Static grip holds until fingers trembled, His wrists bruised , His shoulders burned, His thighs shook but he never complained back he was disciplined and hard working because he had a goal, goal to reach his best.
His grandfather always supported him for whatever he does but was also concerned because of his extreme training but never stopped him as he don't wanted to discourage him.
With time He noticed something interesting with his training,
When he breathed randomly, exhaustion arrived quickly.
When he held his breath, muscles stiffened and strength collapsed.
So he experimented.
While running—slow nasal inhale, steady mouth exhale.
While holding stance—deep inhale, controlled half-release to prevent trembling.
During sword swings—short breath timed to the moment of downward acceleration.
Over weeks, the pattern refined itself.
By five, it stabilized into a rhythm:
Inhale while preparing.
Micro pause to stabilize the core.
Compressed exhale during strike.
Natural inhale during recovery.
It was not mystical.
It did not absorb heaven and earth energy.
It simply conserved oxygen and stabilized muscle tension.
He called it Tempered Breath Method
The sword technique changed too.
The forms his grandfather taught were wide and heavy but lacked strength.
So he reduced motion.
Smaller arc.
Shorter lift.
Elbow tucked closer to ribs.
Sword path tightened.
He tested both versions.
Wide form: 52 cuts before form degraded.
Compact form: 89 cuts.
Eighty-nine mattered more.
So he kept refining.
Step length shortened to prevent overextension.
Weight distribution shifted slightly forward.
Recovery time reduced by half a breath.
Over two years , he built something new from old pieces. He called it Extreme
Not a grand technique.
Not a legendary inheritance.
Just—A version that fit his body.
Present...
Wang Yan doing his training,
Wang Yan's sword cut through the air in steady rhythm.
"Little Yan."
Wang Yan stopped immediately and lowered the sword.
An old man stood a few steps away, holding the certificate stamped by the Spirit Hall. This was his grandfather Wang Lan.
"You have trained enough little Yan" the old man said. "Come here."
Wang Yan approached and stood straight.
Wang Lan looked at him for a moment before speaking.
"The Junior Soul Master Academy in Green Pearl City begins its term day after tomorrow."
He raised the parchment slightly.
"You must decide. Do you wish to go?"
"Yes," Wang Yan answered without hesitation.
Wang Lan nodded once.
"Good. Then listen carefully."
The old man folded his hands behind his back.
"You have lived only in this village. The world beyond it is larger than you think. This continent—Douluo Continent—is divided between two great empires."
He spoke evenly, like a soldier delivering a report.
"To the north and west lies the Heaven Dou Empire. To the south lies the Star Luo Empire. Between them stand countless cities, clans, and academies. Above them all, influencing both sides, stands Spirit Hall."
Wang Yan listened without interrupting.
"In this world, strength determines status," Wang Lan continued. "Spirit Masters are ranked by levels. Every ten levels, one acquires a spirit ring."
He began counting calmly.
"Level 1 to 10 — Spirit Scholar.
Level 11 to 20 — Spirit Master.
Level 21 to 30 — Grand Spirit Master.
Level 31 to 40 — Soul Elder."
He paused briefly.
"I am level 36. A Soul Elder."
Wang Yan nodded. He already knew, but he listened carefully.
"Beyond that," Wang Lan said, "are Soul Ancestor, Soul King, Soul Emperor, Soul Saint, Soul Douluo… and at the peak, Titled Douluo."
His tone did not change, but the weight of the names settled in the air.
"In cities, Spirit Masters above level 40 are respected. Above level 60, they are rare. Above level 80, they influence empires."
Wang Yan absorbed every word.
"You are innate level three," Wang Lan said plainly. "That means your starting speed is slower than many. Do not compare starting lines. Compare endurance."
"Yes, Grandfather."
"In the academy, you will learn meditation methods to cultivate soul power. You will learn theory—spirit beasts, soul rings, martial soul classifications."
He looked directly at Wang Yan.
"Tool spirits like yours rely heavily on skill. Beast spirits rely more on amplification. Do not envy others' paths."
"I won't."
Wang Lan continued.
"Remember this: soul power is foundation. Spirit rings grant abilities. But control determines survival."
The wind brushed through the yard.
"Most students will focus only on rank. Few will focus on stability. Do not neglect your base for speed."
"I understand."
Wang Lan studied him briefly, then nodded.
"Good."
He handed the certificate to Wang Yan.
"Pack what you need tonight. Leave unnecessary things."
He turned toward the house.
"We leave at dawn."
Wang Yan looked at the parchment in his hands.
"Grandfather," he said quietly.
Wang Lan stopped but did not turn.
"Yes?"
"I will not waste this opportunity."
Wang Lan gave a small nod.
"See that you don't."
He stepped inside.
The yard grew quiet again.
Wang Yan looked at the fading sky for a moment, then at his wooden sword resting against the wall.
Tomorrow, he would step beyond Gray Stone Village.
Not as a prodigy.
Not as someone chosen.
But as Wang Yan.
He picked up the sword once more and completed ten final repetitions before night fully fell.
Dawn would come quickly.
End of Chapter.