Golden Generation

After the three-day confinement ended, Fang Mo finally returned to the study.

Bibi Dong sat behind the desk. Today, she was not reviewing documents; instead, she rested her chin on one hand, as if she had been waiting for him.

"How are your meridians recovering?"

Her gaze fell on Fang Mo's wrist.

Fang Mo clenched his fist, feeling Soul Power flow through his meridians. It felt much smoother than it had three days ago.

"Teacher, I feel like there is no problem anymore."

Bibi Dong nodded slightly. "Adding a Soul Ring does not make you a qualified Soul Master."

She rose to her feet, took a token from the bookshelf, and handed it to Fang Mo.

The token was black. The front bore the character for "Palace," while the back was engraved with Spirit Hall's dark golden emblem.

"This is a Papal Palace Access Pass. Starting today, you will conduct combat sparring at the Combat Training Ground every afternoon."

Fang Mo accepted the token and examined it.

"Who trains at the training ground?"

Bibi Dong's answer was brief. "Children from the Spirit Hall Preparatory Training Camp. They range from seven to twelve years old and are all promising candidates personally selected by the Elder Hall."

Fang Mo's pupils contracted slightly.

The Preparatory Training Camp.

That was where Hu Liena, Xie Yue, and Yan were—the Golden Generation Spirit Hall had carefully nurtured.

According to the original timeline, they should now have been between seven and nine years old.

Seeing his expression, Bibi Dong added calmly:

"Combat training is not for play. Your Soul Power may be high, but you have never truly fought anyone.

With cultivation alone and no combat experience, you will die quickly if you encounter a real enemy."

Fang Mo nodded obediently.

"Your disciple understands."

Bibi Dong paused again, her gaze darkening slightly. "Also, do not reveal your second Martial Soul in the training ground."

"Your disciple understands."

Only then did Bibi Dong withdraw her gaze in satisfaction.

"Go. The training ground is in the Pope Palace East Wing. Follow the corridor to the end, then turn left."

At the end of the Pope Palace East Wing lay an open area enclosed by tall walls.

The Sparring Arena.

It was roughly the size of two football fields, its ground paved with special gray-white stone slabs said to be made from a material that absorbed Soul Power impacts.

There were no spectator stands around it, only several bare walls etched with Spirit Hall's patterns.

By the time Fang Mo entered, more than a dozen people were already inside.

The children ranged from seven to twelve years old. Divided into several rows according to height, they were practicing basic Soul Power sparring under the guidance of a middle-aged instructor.

Fang Mo swept his gaze over them.

He recognized them at once.

The girl on the left, about eight years old.

Her long golden hair was braided into two plaits, and her delicate features carried an alluring air.

At that moment, she was using her Martial Soul to release a cloud of pale purple mist, forcing her opponent back again and again.

Hu Liena.

A core member of Spirit Hall's Golden Generation in the original story, possessing the Demon Fox Martial Soul and specializing in spiritual attacks.

Beside her stood a slightly older boy, about nine years old, with short black hair and a stern face. In his hand, he condensed a crescent-shaped blade of light.

Xie Yue.

Hu Liena's older brother, possessor of the Moon Blade Martial Soul and an assault-type Soul Master.

Farther away, a sturdily built boy with a fierce face was furiously pounding a sandbag, every punch carrying the scorching aura of flames.

Yan.

He possessed the Flame Lord Martial Soul and was also an assault type. His temperament was the most impulsive of them all.

Fang Mo stopped at the entrance.

The middle-aged instructor noticed him, looked him up and down, and frowned slightly.

"You are the Pope's newly accepted disciple?"

"Yes," Fang Mo answered.

The instructor's gaze fell on the token in Fang Mo's hand. After confirming it, his tone eased somewhat.

"How old are you?"

"Six."

"Soul Power Level?"

"Level thirteen."

The training ground fell silent in an instant.

More than a dozen pairs of eyes turned toward Fang Mo, filled with surprise, disbelief, and scrutiny.

Six years old, level thirteen.

That meant he had added a Soul Ring—and had done so at only six years old.

Hu Liena stopped what she was doing. Her alluring eyes settled on Fang Mo, touched with a hint of curiosity.

Xie Yue's reaction was more direct.

He dispersed the light blade in his hand and stared intently at Fang Mo, as though weighing a potential opponent.

Yan tossed aside the sandbag and strode over, his face full of disbelief.

"You added a Soul Ring at six? What did you grow up eating?"

Fang Mo did not answer.

The instructor clapped his hands, signaling everyone to gather.

"Today's arrangements have changed. A new trainee has arrived and needs to undergo a combat test to determine his rank in the training ground."

The instructor looked at Fang Mo. "You need to spar with a trainee in your age group. Any problem with that?"

Fang Mo looked around.

His age group.

The training ground held children from seven to twelve. Strictly speaking, at six, he was the youngest.

But when the instructor said "his age group," he probably meant those around seven to eight years old.

Hu Liena was eight, Xie Yue was nine, and Yan was eight.

Yan was the first to step forward, his face full of ill intent.

"Let me test him!"

The instructor frowned, but did not refuse.

Yan's Soul Power Level was eighteen, five levels above Fang Mo's. For testing a new trainee's combat ability, it was barely acceptable.

"Stop at the proper point."

The instructor reminded him.

Yan grinned. "Don't worry. I won't make a six-year-old cry."

Fang Mo calmly walked to the center of the Sparring Arena.

They stood ten paces apart.

Hu Liena and Xie Yue retreated to the edge of the arena. The former folded her arms and watched with interest, while the latter wore a cold expression as he analyzed something.

Yan directly revealed his Martial Soul.

Flame Lord.

A mass of crimson fire surged from his right hand, forming the phantom of a giant half the height of a man. A wave of heat rushed toward Fang Mo.

His first Soul Ring lit up—a yellow one, a standard four-hundred-year Soul Ring.

"Come on, kid." Yan grinned. "Show me your Martial Soul."

Fang Mo did not attack immediately.

He was observing.

Yan was impulsive, fought directly, and specialized in powerful assault attacks.

In the original story, his greatest weakness was his tendency to lose his head in battle. Once provoked, he would neglect defense.

But Fang Mo did not intend to exploit that weakness. He only needed a clean, decisive victory.

Fang Mo closed his eyes and drew upon the Soul Power within him.

Darkness poured from his palm.

Unlike the rampaging darkness from his awakening, this darkness was restrained and precise, as though tightly gripped by an invisible hand.

The darkness condensed before him, gradually stretching into the outline of a woman.

Humanoid.

Her figure was slender and curvaceous, with long hair cascading down like a waterfall.

Her features were shrouded in a thin mist of darkness, leaving only those dark red eyes faintly visible.

Cold, proud, and carrying a trace of disdain etched into her very bones.

The entire arena fell silent once again.

A humanoid Martial Soul.

It was something no one in the training ground had ever seen before.

Yan's smile froze on his face.

He was not shocked by the form of the Martial Soul, but by the aura radiating from that phantom.

Cold. Dark.

It carried an oppressive force that instinctively made one want to retreat.

That was not an ordinary Soul Power fluctuation.