The Heavy Heart of Tang Tehan
The silence of the night was absolute, broken only by the flickering flame of the oil lamp reflecting in **Tehan's** weary eyes. In the next room, Yan was silent, but Tehan's appetite had vanished. His mind was a battlefield. He had seen the way Yan moved—the unnatural stability, the harmony with the wind. He feared that the "Radar" of the **Angel Sect** and the **Sun Moon Empire** would soon lock onto his son.
Tehan gripped an ancient metal medallion in his fist—a relic of a forgotten clan. *I promised to give him a hidden life,* he thought, *but I am trying to catch a waterfall with my bare hands.*
Across the wall, Yan was wide awake. His sixth sense picked up the heavy thrum of Tehan's heart. *In my last life, I had only blind faith,* Yan vowed silently. *This time, I have a protector. I will not let him down.*
The Forgotten Birthday
The next afternoon, Yan prepared a meal and headed toward the mines. On the rocky slopes, a mischievous voice broke his thoughts. "Hey, Yan! Why the rush, brother?"
It was **Wu Shen**, Yan's childhood friend, sitting atop a boulder. He hopped down and whispered with a grin, "I'm taller than you now, see? My sixth birthday was a few days ago... and if I remember correctly, today is yours, isn't it?"
Yan froze. Between the chores and the forest, he had completely forgotten. He remembered the look of bittersweet tenderness in Tehan's eyes that morning—his father hadn't forgotten; he just didn't know how to say it.
Wu Shen handed him a glowing blue pebble. "Here's my gift! Now, come on. A Soul Master from a great academy is at the village square. If we awaken our Martial Souls, we won't have to break rocks in this dust forever!"
Yan hesitated, thinking of his father alone in the dark mine, but Wu Shen dragged him toward the village. "Uncle Tehan will be the proudest man alive if his son becomes a Soul Master! Move it!"
The Legend of the Golden Eagle
At the village square, a majestic man in white and gold robes stood upon a platform, holding a crystal orb. Only twelve children stood there, trembling with a mix of fear and hope.
"Silence!" the **Soul Master's** voice boomed. "Today, we ignite your spirits. Not everyone is born to lead, but those with the spark shall follow me to the Academy."
The first few children failed. "No Soul Power! Next!" the master barked. Yan tried to hide in the back, but Wu Shen shoved him forward before taking his own turn.
When Wu Shen stepped onto the stone altar, the atmosphere changed. The Soul Master slammed his foot down, releasing his Soul Rings.
The ground shivered. Golden waves of energy slammed into Wu Shen, lifting him into the air.
Wu Shen let out a primal cry, and a pillar of light pierced the clouds. Thunder rolled as the light took shape: a Golden Eagle. Its wings spanned the entire village, shimmering like pure gold, its beak forged of divine steel.
"Incredible!" the Soul Master gasped, his voice trembling with respect. "A legendary **Golden Eagle**! A top-tier Flying-type Martial Soul! Boy, your destiny has changed today!"
### **The Silence of the Void**
As the village erupted in cheers, calling Wu Shen's name, the Soul Master turned his piercing gaze to the back of the crowd. "Next! You, hiding in the back. Come forward. Let us see what the heavens have written for you."
Yan stepped onto the altar, his hands cold as ice. He didn't want the fame; he just wanted to go back to the mine. As he reached for the orb, the Soul Master prepared for another burst of energy.
But the moment the Soul Master stamped his foot, something terrifying happened.
The roaring golden energy from Wu Shen's ceremony didn't just fade—it was
**extinguished**. The light in the Soul Master's eyes died out, and he stumbled back, nearly falling off the platform. The air turned freezing. The village fell into a deathly hush.
"What happened?" the villagers whispered. "Is Yan soulless? Or is the Master's power gone?"
Suddenly, a booming, authoritative voice cut through the murmurs. A tall, elderly man in a deep royal-blue robe walked forward. Every Soul Master present immediately bowed their heads in terror and respect.
He was a **Soul Saint**—a level of power the villagers only knew from myths. He didn't look at the Master or Wu Shen. His eyes were locked entirely on Yan, who stood in the center of a growing, invisible vortex of cold, blue shadow.
**The Soul Saint spoke, his voice vibrating in the very marrow of their bones:** "Move aside, Apprentice. You are trying to measure an ocean with a cup. This boy... his soul isn't empty. It's so vast that your orb cannot even reflect its surface."