Martial Soul Awakening: The Three-Pointed Double-Edged Spear Emerges, and Ten Thousand Spears Submit!

Star Luo Empire, Mountain Lord City, territory of the Breaking Clan.

The morning sunlight struggled through the gray-black clouds, scattering in fragments across the bluestone-paved square within the clan grounds.

The square was surrounded by people—men and women, young and old—numbering several hundred.

No one spoke, yet the air was filled with an indescribable solemnity and anticipation.

Today was the Breaking Clan's annual Martial Soul Awakening Day.

Or, more precisely, it was the day the direct grandson of the Breaking Clan's patriarch would awaken his Martial Soul.

On a smaller scale, the awakening of the patriarch's direct grandson represented the future of the Breaking Clan's younger generation.

On a larger scale, it represented the future of the Breaking Clan itself.

"Next, Yang Jian."

Elder Yang Qishan's deep voice, wrapped in Soul Power, echoed through the square and shattered the surrounding solemnity.

The crowd automatically parted, and a six-year-old child walked forward with steady steps before stopping in the center of the awakening formation.

The child stood tall and straight, with delicate features that drew frequent glances from the girls of the clan. Yet what caught the eye most were his eyes.

They were black as ink, deep and composed, gleaming with a maturity unlike that of children his age.

He stood there quietly, facing the gazes of several hundred people without the slightest trace of fear.

His name was Yang Jian, or rather, Yang Ji'an.

Six years ago, he had been an ordinary office worker on Blue Star who had died suddenly from staying up late and working overtime.

When he opened his eyes again, he had become the grandson of Yang Wudi, patriarch of the Breaking Clan. That outwardly cold but inwardly warm old man had personally named him "Jian."

"Jian means to eliminate, to cut away."

The old man had stared at him, still swaddled in infancy, speaking each word as though he wanted to carve them into his mind.

"You must remember that your name carries the hopes of the Breaking Clan."

Over the past six years, Yang Jian had gradually figured out his circumstances.

They were more or less the same as in the original story. Because the Clear Sky Sect had gone into seclusion, their four affiliated clans had suffered an undeserved calamity. Of them, the Breaking Clan had suffered the greatest losses. More than half its members had died or been injured, and even Yang Jian's biological parents had been killed by Spirit Hall in that battle.

The Breaking Clan bore the hatred of betrayal toward the Clear Sky Sect and a blood-deep vendetta against Spirit Hall.

"The awakening ceremony begins—"

The elder's aged voice pulled Yang Jian back from his thoughts.

Seven Soul Rings rose beneath his feet, and the pressure of a Soul Saint spread across the square.

He raised his hands slightly, and the hexagram formation suddenly bloomed with dazzling white light, enveloping Yang Jian within it.

Yang Jian felt a warm current flow in from the soles of his feet, spreading through his meridians and throughout his body.

The sensation was strange, as though something inside him was awakening, eager to stir.

At the edge of the square, atop a temporary platform, a tall, lean figure with black hair standing upright like spears stood with his hands behind his back.

He had not released his Martial Soul, yet merely standing there, he exuded an invisible pressure in every direction.

Yang Wudi, patriarch of the Breaking Clan, an eighty-second-rank Soul Douluo.

In that battle years ago, more than half the clan had died or been injured, and his son and daughter-in-law had perished before his eyes. Yet he had not shed a single tear. He had led the surviving clansmen through a bloody path and ultimately established themselves in Mountain Lord City.

But at this moment, a rare trace of tension appeared in the eyes of this iron-blooded old man.

"Little Lin, what Martial Soul do you think this child will awaken?"

He asked the middle-aged man beside him in a low voice.

The middle-aged man was Yang Lin, son of Yang Wushuang, Yang Wudi's second younger brother, and Yang Jian's uncle.

"Uncle, you've asked that eight times already. The Breaking Clan's inherited Martial Soul is the Soul-Breaker Spear. Unless something unexpected happens, Jian'er's Martial Soul should also be..."

"Unexpected?"

Yang Wudi frowned, about to speak, when his eyes fixed on Yang Jian's figure suddenly contracted.

At the center of the square, golden light suddenly erupted, overwhelming the glow of the awakening formation. It swept forth like a roaring tide, instantly engulfing the entire square.

And the source of that golden light was Yang Jian, standing at the center of the formation.

He raised his right hand, and the golden light that covered the square suddenly drew back.

The golden light spun and condensed in Yang Jian's palm, eventually forming an unusually shaped weapon.

It was a long weapon, roughly twelve feet in length. Its blade split into three prongs, with a long, sharp central blade and two side blades gleaming with chilling light.

A golden dragon seemed to coil around its long shaft, amid drifting auspicious clouds.

"You jinx!"

Seeing that his nephew truly had not awakened the clan's inherited Soul-Breaker Spear, Yang Lin froze for half a breath before belatedly slapping himself.

On the platform, Yang Wudi's brows twisted into a knot.

All around the square, hundreds of clansmen let out low cries of shock.

The Soul-Breaker Spear, passed down for a thousand years, had actually mutated?

In most cases, a mutated Martial Soul meant impure bloodlines and limited potential.

This child was the patriarch's direct grandson, bearing the hopes of the entire clan. Why did it have to be...

Though no one said anything, disappointment spread through the crowd.

However, at that very moment.

"Roar!"

A beastly roar, like a dragon's cry and a serpent's hiss, reverberated from the Three-Pointed Double-Edged Spear in Yang Jian's hand.

The roar was not particularly loud, yet it carried supreme majesty, instantly suppressing every noisy sound.

The Three-Pointed Double-Edged Spear in Yang Jian's hand seemed to gain the weight of a thousand jun, and its butt suddenly slammed down onto the bluestone ground.

"Boom!"

Another muffled, thunderous blast erupted.

In an instant, the entire Breaking Clan shook violently. Centered on the spear's butt, dense cracks spread in every direction.

Immediately afterward, an invisible aura swept out from the Three-Pointed Double-Edged Spear!

That aura was incomparably sharp and utterly domineering, as though an ancient dragon that had slumbered for ten thousand years had opened its eyes. Molten-gold vertical pupils gazed down upon all living things!

"What is happening?! My Martial Soul!"

Startled cries rose one after another.

Around the square, every member of the Breaking Clan, regardless of age or cultivation, felt the Martial Souls within them tremble. Then, Soul-Breaker Spears burst uncontrollably from their bodies and hovered before them!

Their Martial Souls had left their bodies beyond their control? Such a thing was unheard of!

But what came next was even more shocking.

The Soul-Breaker Spears floating in the air all began to tremble. Their shafts bent slightly, and their spearheads lowered.

They faced the Three-Pointed Double-Edged Spear in Yang Jian's hand, as though ministers were paying respects to their sovereign.

"Th-this is..."

Yang Lin stared dumbfounded at the densely packed Soul-Breaker Spears, unable to speak properly.

On the platform, Yang Wudi's body suddenly stiffened.

He could feel that the Soul-Breaker Spear he had tempered for more than sixty years was also stirring within him, trying to burst free from his body.

With a thought, he forcibly suppressed it. Yet the urge to submit, rising from the depths of his bloodline, could not be suppressed no matter what he did.

Even the Martial Soul of an eighty-second-rank Soul Douluo was bowing to the Martial Soul in the hand of a six-year-old child?

Good! If that's the case, then these old bones of mine will become the first paving stone on my grandson's invincible path!

At that thought, a sharp light flashed in Yang Wudi's eyes. Not only did he stop suppressing it, he instead opened his mind completely.

"Buzz—"

A pitch-black spear burst from his body and hovered before him.

It was his Martial Soul, the Soul-Breaker Spear. It had followed him through a lifetime of battle and slaughtered countless foes. Its shaft had always stood straight and had never bent.

Yet at this moment, this spear that had never bowed its head seemed to be pressed down by an invisible hand. It slowly bent, its spearhead lowering toward the Three-Pointed Double-Edged Blade in Yang Jian's hand, bowing its proud head.

At that moment, the square fell utterly silent...