Three days after his return, Arthev stood at the entrance of Notting City Junior Soul Master Academy, the morning sun casting long shadows across the courtyard. The pendant rested heavy in his pocket, but his thoughts turned to practicality—Spirit Hall subsidies. A gold soul coin monthly for soul masters under level 40 was too good to pass up. With a nod to himself, he left the academy gates behind, heading for the Spirit Hall in Notting City.
The walk wove through bustling streets—past bakeries exhaling warm yeast, merchants haggling over crimson-dyed silks, and kids chasing each other with sticks. After a few inquiries, he reached the Spirit Hall, its golden facade gleaming like a cathedral plucked from a Western tale. A massive sword pierced the stone above the entrance, its shape echoing an angel's holy blade. Arthev paused, admiring it briefly before two guards in silver-trimmed armor stepped forward.
"Kid," one said, gripping his spear, "this is Spirit Hall. No wandering in."
Arthev pulled out his martial spirit certificate and handed it over. "Respected guards, I'm a soul master here to test my soul power level." The guard scanned the parchment, a flicker of envy in his eyes.
"Alright, go on. Master Matthew Nuo's inside today."
"Thank you," Arthev replied, stepping through the grand doors.The interior was vast and cool, murals sprawling across walls and the domed ceiling—seraphs in golden flame, their swords pinning down snarling evil soul masters. Arthev's gaze lingered on one, a faint spark of curiosity in his chest. A maid approached, her apron crisp, and bowed.
"This way, young master." She guided him to an office where an old man—seventy or eighty—sat reading, shelves of books towering behind him.
"Master Matthew Nuo," the maid said, "this child's here to test his soul power." She bowed and left.Matthew Nuo lowered his book, peering at Arthev over his glasses.
"Well, young one, you sure you're not here for an awakening? You've got that new-kid shine."
Arthev shook his head with a polite smile.
"No, Master. I'm here to test my soul power. I was born with level 5, as my certificate shows." He handed it over.Matthew Nuo glanced at it, eyebrows rising.
"Level 5 at birth? Goodness, that's talent! And your martial soul… a tree? Wait—a tree?"
"Yes," Arthev said, scratching his head lightly. "It's not common, I know."
The old man sighed, standing with a groan. "Not common at all. Follow me, child."
Arthev trailed him to an open chamber, a soul power crystal glowing faintly in the center. Matthew Nuo pointed.
"Hand up."Arthev pressed his palm to the crystal. A light yellow halo erupted, steady and clear. Matthew Nuo's jaw dropped.
"Level… fourteen! From 10 to 14?"
"I'm eight years old," Arthev added calmly.The old man's eyes blazed with excitement. "Eight? A first-ring soul master already? Arthev, join Spirit Hall! We'd polish that talent right up!"
Arthev paused, then shook his head. "Thank you, Master Matthew Nuo, but I'm at Notting Academy for now. I can't join yet—perhaps after graduation."
Matthew Nuo nodded, a bit crestfallen. "Fair enough—no strong-arming here. Door's open when you're ready."
He chuckled suddenly. "Oh, right—your subsidy! Almost slipped my mind."
Arthev blinked, feigning surprise. "Yes, I nearly forgot that myself."Laughing, Matthew Nuo pulled a soul master badge and a gold soul coin from a drawer.
"Clever boy. Here—badge and coin. Spend it wisely."
"Thank you," Arthev said, pocketing them as he left. Funds secured. Next step—shuriken.
----------
By late afternoon, he reached the blacksmith district, the air thick with smoke and the clang of hammers. He entered a familiar shop, blueprint in hand, greeted by a burly smith with soot-stained arms.
"Kid! Been ages—back for them weird stars?"
"Yes, sir," Arthev said, handing over the drawing. "One set of shuriken, one of kunai. How much?"
The blacksmith glanced at it, scratching his head. "Same deal, huh? Still amazes me—a kid with drawings this sharp. Looks simple, but forging's a beast."
He tapped the page. "Best fine iron, like last time. Labor's one gold coin, materials two—but for you, three total. Deal?"
Arthev nodded. "Deal, but I'm short now. I'm a soul master—can I pay after my next subsidy?"
The smith's eyes widened. "Soul master? You? Well, knock me flat!" He grinned, clapping Arthev's shoulder. "Fine, pay later—I'll start anyway. Might tweak my skills with these oddities."
"Thank you, sir," Arthev said, turning to leave. On the way back, he stopped at a stall, trading half his coin for soul beast meat and a basket of carrots and headed to the academy.
—————
Night fell, cloaking Notting Junior Academy in a soft, gauzy haze, its lanterns glowing like fireflies. Arthev returned to the dorm, dropping the meat and carrots on a table. As he unpacked, his mind drifted to the pendant, the vaults, the guardians—secrets only he and Shukaku held.
"Oi, Stunned Face," Shukaku's rough voice growled in his subconscious. "Ya got cash, ya got grub—when's the fun start? I'm bored stiff in here!"
"Patience," Arthev replied silently, slicing meat with a kunai. "This is prep—coins mean tools, tools mean survival. Fun's later."
"Prep, prep, blah blah," Shukaku grumbled. "Yer killin' me with this slow game, kid. Least gimme somethin' to smash!"
"Soon enough," Arthev thought, smirking as he set the meat to steam with a flicker of soul power.
_______
In the master's room, Yu Xiaogang sat on his bed, staring at Tang San. "Arthev got his first ring? Who helped him? What beast?"
Tang San shrugged, standing by the door. "I don't know, Teacher. I overheard Director Su talking about it with the others."
"Come here, Xiao San," the master said, waving him over. Tang San stepped closer, curiosity piqued.
"Listen," Yu Xiaogang said, voice heavy, "Arthev's got talent—maybe near yours. But you know the gap between you?"
Tang San frowned, shaking his head. "No, Teacher. What is it?"
The master placed a hand on his head, smiling faintly. "Your second martial soul—the Clear Sky Hammer. The world's finest. After level 90, every ring will be ten thousand years."
"Ten thousand years?" Tang San's eyes widened. "All of them?"
"Yes," Yu Xiaogang nodded, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Twin martial souls are extremely rare—only three people on the entire continent have them. The Pope's second martial soul has all ten-thousand-year soul rings. As for the first person, they tried to cultivate both martial souls simultaneously, but their soul power clashed, causing an explosion that killed them. You are the third, Xiao San. With my theory, you have the potential to reach Titled Douluo—perhaps even level 95 or higher!"
Tang San's chest swelled with pride as a grin spread across his face. "So that's the difference—you, Teacher! Your invincible theory. Arthev is just fumbling around blindly, isn't he?"
"Exactly," Yu Xiaogang replied, grinning in return. "Does Arthev understand the proper soul ring ratios? The dangers of absorbing rings at random? I've taught you better than that."
Tang San blushed, bowing. "I haven't forgotten, Teacher. I was wrong to doubt."
"Go get some rest," Yu Xiaogang said, glancing at the darkened window.
"Tomorrow, we'll plan the path for your Blue Silver Grass."
"Yes, Teacher," Tang San replied, giving a respectful salute before leaving.
Left alone, Yu Xiaogang muttered to himself, "Xiao San, you'll prove my theory. Arthev won't lead you astray—not if I have anything to say about it."
_______
Back in the dorm, Arthev sat on his bed, chewing steamed beast meat, the room alive with chatter. Xiao Wu lounged on her bunk, nibbling a carrot from his basket.
"Where's Tang San?" she asked, kicking her legs.
"How would I know?" Arthev replied, tone even, slicing another piece of meat.
Xiao Wu rolled her eyes. "Ugh, you're useless. How's anyone supposed to track him down?"
"Sister Xiao Wu," Wang Sheng said, biting into barbecue Arthev had shared, "do you like Tang San? I think Brother Arthev's way better."
"Wang Sheng!" Xiao Wu's face flushed, and she glared. "Shove that meat in your mouth and hush!"
"Haha, Brother Arthev's barbecue's top-notch!" Wang Sheng laughed, dodging her stare.Xiao Wu waved a fist.
"One more word about Tang San, and I'll flatten you into a dumpling!"
"Spare me, Sister Xiao Wu!" Wang Sheng yelped, grinning. He muttered under his breath, "Girls are supposed to be sweet—Dad's a liar."
Xiao Wu's ears twitched. "What'd you say?!" She leapt up, fists ready, charging at him.
"Sister Xiao Wu, not me!" Wang Sheng squeaked, ducking behind Arthev.
Arthev sighed, setting his meat down, and stepped forward. "Xiao Wu," he said, meeting her gaze calmly, "you're the dorm boss. That means leading by example—not swinging at everyone who disagrees with you. Strength doesn't earn respect; actions do. Bullying Wang Sheng over a harmless comment doesn't make you better than the seniors who used to push us around."
Xiao Wu froze, arms crossed, pouting. "But he—"
"No excuses," Arthev cut in, firm but kind.
"We all have our thoughts. If he prefers me, it's not an attack on Tang San. Win people over with your heart, not your punches—it's more fun that way."
Wang Sheng peeked out, nodding fast. "Yeah, I'd rather eat than get squashed!"
Xiao Wu huffed, flopping back onto her bed. "Fine, whatever. But keep quiet next time, Wang Sheng."
Arthev chuckled. "Good enough." He glanced at her sulky face.
"Cheer up, Xiao Wu. Tang San'll be back soon—check the door if you're restless."
Her eyes brightened. "Really?" She hopped up, scampering to peek out.
Wang Sheng edged closer, whispering, "Brother Arthev, you think she's into Tang San? He's not half as great as you."
Arthev sighed, patting his shoulder. "Wang Sheng, liking someone isn't about greatness. It's about their character, how they connect, what they share. Looks catch the eye, but it's actions that matter. You respect me for more than my skills, don't you?"
Wang Sheng nodded, sheepish. "Yeah, I get it. I'll zip it."
"Aw, look at ya, playin' wise old man," Shukaku snickered in his mind. "Next ya gonna start spoutin' proverbs, Stunned Face?"
"Quiet," Arthev thought back, smirking. "I'm keeping the peace—unlike some loudmouths."
"Loudmouth? Me? I'm a saint in here!" Shukaku huffed. "Just wait 'til I get outta this head-cage—then we'll see who's quiet!"
Before Arthev could reply, Xiao Wu shouted, "Tang San, you're back!"
Tang San walked in, chatting with Xiao Wu, barely glancing at the others. His eyes caught the barbecue and carrots scattered around. Arthev's subsidy haul, he thought, then approached.
"Arthev, how'd you know Xiao Wu likes carrots?"Arthev looked up, calm and steady.
"Isn't it obvious? Rabbits love carrots. Only pigs go for white radishes—didn't you know that, Tang San?"
Tang San stiffened, catching the dig—his teacher's pig soul ate radishes. Xiao Wu tilted her head. "Tang San, what's wrong?"
"I…" Tang San faltered, suspicion flaring, but he couldn't voice it.
Before he could say more, a familiar bark echoed down the corridor. "What's all this noise?" Director Su's voice thundered. "It's past curfew! Want to spend tomorrow scrubbing the training floors?"
Panic rippled through the dorm. Meat vanished under blankets, carrots were shoved behind bedposts, wrappers crammed into pillowcases. Chaos in an instant—practiced, almost professional.
Arthev, unfazed, offered a small smile as he slid quietly into his bed, movements fluid in the dimming light. The noise faded, replaced by rustling covers and hushed snickers.
A few moments later, the lanterns flickered out.
Silence returned.