Angel!

Douluo Continent, North Sea City.

"Soul Power, level two!"

"And it looks like he hasn't even awakened a Martial Soul."

"He has Soul Power but no Martial Soul? Now that's a freak."

"What freak? I'd say he's a useless good-for-nothing!"

Malicious remarks like these drifted through the classroom. The chatter buzzed all around, yet every word was aimed at one person.

A handsome six-year-old boy sat quietly at his desk, his tiny body leaning against the edge of the table. He propped his cheek on one hand and stared blankly ahead.

The malicious jeers and idle gossip around him seemed to go entirely unheard. His expression didn't change in the slightest.

His eyes were vacant as he sat there in a daze, not a ripple in their depths, not a stir in his heart. He seemed cut off from the world. Even at such a young age, he bore an air of detachment and silence far beyond his years, keeping to his own pocket of dead calm amid the clamor around him.

Shen Nanxun didn't care about the gossip at all. Or rather, his adult soul had no intention of arguing with a bunch of children.

What he cared about more was his own future. Just as those people had said, with only two levels of Innate Soul Power and no Martial Soul, he was destined never to become a Soul Master.

He could only live as an ordinary person.

But after coming to this world, who wouldn't want to become a Soul Master capable of soaring through the heavens and burrowing through the earth, then earn the title of Titled Douluo and live a carefree life?

Now, even if he had the ambition to see the river run thirty years east before it ran thirty years west, all he could do was mourn his misfortune.

Was he really going to sell spicy rabbit heads for the rest of his life?

The classroom's chatter only gradually died down when the teacher arrived. A gaunt, pale middle-aged man walked in.

His broad, high forehead was balding slightly. His dark hair was combed back into a side part, and a pair of sharp, light-blue eyes swept across the room. A signature short, straight mustache sat above his lip. He wore a crisp, dark military uniform, its shoulders stiff and rigid, lending him an imposing air.

Even after a year of classes, Shen Nanxun still found this teacher, whose surname was A, strange.

If this weren't Douluo Continent, he would have suspected the man was some leader from a beer hall, complete with a little mustache.

Teacher A's expression remained stern. Even in his everyday classroom lectures, he seemed to speak with deliberate solemnity. "Students, you all awakened your Martial Souls in the legion yesterday. I want to stress that anyone with a Soul Power Level below five is advised to withdraw voluntarily. The lessons ahead will only get harder."

This class was run by the North Sea Legion, and all the students here were children of officers. The children of officers generally had decent talent. They started classes here at age five, and the coursework gradually became stricter and more militaristic. Those with very low Soul Power Levels simply couldn't endure training of this intensity.

An ordinary-looking boy in the front row abruptly stood up, a note of glee in his voice. "Teacher A, Shen Nanxun only has two levels of Soul Power, and he doesn't even have a Martial Soul!"

Shen Nanxun knew the boy. His name was Dong Yi'an, the son of Dong Zi'an, commander of the Western Legion. His mother served in the North Sea Legion, which was why he attended classes here.

He was cheerful and loved showing off. He very much wanted to become a leader in the class. But ever since they started school a year ago, Shen Nanxun had won over a great many people with his striking looks.

That made Dong Yi'an deeply envious. They were both children of legion commanders, and he couldn't bear to fall behind. So he had spent the past year at odds with Shen Nanxun, and now he had finally found an opportunity to mock him.

In fact, the malicious comments in the classroom had come from the little group of students Dong Yi'an had gathered around him.

After all, Shen Nanxun was the child of a legion commander. Dong Yi'an, the biological son of the Western Legion's commander, was practically the only one who dared to openly oppose him. The others had to be mindful of his status.

Adolf's expression didn't change. He had clearly known about Shen Nanxun's situation for some time, yet he said nothing to reprimand Dong Yi'an and his friends.

The legion was different from other places. Here, when faced with mockery, the only thing to do was hit back with strength. Strength ruled everything here—even in a little classroom like this.

"Shen Nanxun, I already know about your situation. Although you're the child of a legion commander, you're nothing special here. Think carefully about what I said. Perhaps if you seek out a second career early, you'll have a better path ahead of you."

Shen Nanxun finally moved. He raised his listless eyes and glanced at Adolf.

"Understood, teacher."

The words were harsh, but they were the truth. The path of a Soul Master was closed to him, and the best path he could pursue in the future was mecha piloting.

Though he was told to think it over carefully, classes continued as usual that day. They were going to train their bodies in seawater, a common training exercise in the North Sea Legion.

North Sea City lay on the northern coast, where the air was already cold. The seawater was icy enough to sting, making it ideal for stimulating the body and tempering the physique.

The coast was naturally out in the suburbs, so they took an open-top military off-road vehicle from the school. Each vehicle had four passenger seats in addition to the driver's.

Shen Nanxun found a seat by the edge of the back row. He was just about to look out the window when the seat beside him suddenly sank under someone's weight.

Dong Yi'an squeezed in brazenly, taking up nearly half the seat.

"Well, well, Shen Nanxun. Looks like we're sitting together." He grinned, deliberately draping an arm across the back of the seat. Raising his brows, he said, "You don't need to worry, though. There are no useless Martial Souls, only useless Soul Masters."

"Though you don't even have a useless Martial Soul..."

The instant Dong Yi'an finished speaking, his face full of mockery, a girl's cool, crisp voice rang out beside the vehicle and cut off his taunt.

"Dong Yi'an, if you've got so much breath to spare, save it for the seawater training. Wouldn't want you freezing out there and crying for your mom and dad."

Looking over, they saw a slender yet upright figure standing beside the vehicle. The girl wore a simple military-issue uniform. Her features were clean and sharp, and her air was cool but not haughty. It was Ye Xi, who rarely spoke in class, yet whom no one dared to provoke lightly.

She didn't spare Dong Yi'an another glance. Bending down, she climbed straight into the vehicle and sat on Shen Nanxun's other side, quietly placing herself between him and Dong Yi'an.

The vehicle's interior fell noticeably quieter.

Dong Yi'an's mocking grin froze for a moment. He looked at Ye Xi, displeasure written on his face. "I'm talking to him. What's it got to do with you?"

Ye Xi gave him a cool glance and didn't answer. She merely turned to look at Shen Nanxun, a trace of concern in her eyes that was hard to detect.

Shen Nanxun slowly drew back his gaze. The corner of his mouth lifted in the faintest smile. At last, he looked up at Dong Yi'an, his voice calm, each word clear.

"Before worrying about me, you should worry about yourself. Your Soul Power is only level five, barely above the withdrawal line. If you keep running your mouth, you might be the one asked to leave class next time."

"The pot calling the kettle black. We're in the same boat."

His offhand words struck right at the heart of it.

Dong Yi'an's smile froze instantly. His face turned from red to green, then darkened sharply. He clenched his fists, but for a moment, he couldn't think of anything to say in rebuttal.

This was what he dreaded most. He and Shen Nanxun were both sons of Dong Zi'an, but his older brother, who was two years his senior, had also studied here with the North Sea Legion. After awakening his Martial Soul and displaying an Innate Soul Power Level of nine, he had immediately been taken back to the Western Legion for training.

The seawater training ground was set in a naturally recessed cove along the North Sea coast. The waves were gentle, and the water was just deep enough to reach the waists of six-year-old children. The open-top off-road vehicle followed the coastal road, the sea breeze carrying a briny smell as it rushed toward them. Shen Nanxun turned his head toward the distant horizon, his gaze still vacant, as if the little clash in the vehicle had never happened.

Ye Xi sat silently beside him. She wasn't one for many words; speaking up to help him just now had been unusual for her.

Dong Yi'an, meanwhile, sat with his face dark as thunder, not saying a word.

The journey passed in silence. The convoy followed the coastal road for about twenty minutes. Just as they were about to turn onto the road leading to the cove, disaster struck.

First, Shen Nanxun heard a sharp whistle, as if something had torn through the air itself. The next instant, a black beam of light fell from the sky and struck the hood of the lead vehicle with pinpoint accuracy.

BOOM!!!

A violent explosion rang out. Shen Nanxun felt the world spin as a tremendous force hurled him away. Metal shrieked as it twisted, and his classmates screamed. He instinctively curled up and covered his head with both hands. Then his back slammed hard into something solid, and a wave of pain shot through his right leg.

By the time he came to his senses, he was leaning against the trunk of a crooked coastal pine.

A piercing pain throbbed in his right calf. His trouser leg had been ripped open, and a jagged wound on his skin was oozing blood. Shen Nanxun lowered his head for a glance. Once he confirmed it wasn't broken, he gritted his teeth, tore off a strip of his sleeve, and tied it tightly above the wound to stop the bleeding.

But before he could catch his breath, two Soul Masters in black cloaks began walking toward him. One was a Soul Saint, the other a Soul Emperor.

Neither was someone Shen Nanxun could possibly match right now. And it was obvious that these people were Evil Soul Masters!

What kind of hellish start is this... Shen Nanxun gritted his teeth and couldn't help complaining. Having two levels of Soul Power and no Martial Soul was bad enough, and now he'd run into Evil Soul Masters on top of that.

The one in the lead was the Soul Saint. His scarlet eyes, visible beneath his hood, had been fixed on Shen Nanxun from the start. His gaze was like that of a sinister viper locking onto its prey.

"This is the boy. He has such a delicious scent about him."

The other Evil Soul Master was short and plump. Licking his lips, he gazed at Shen Nanxun hungrily. Though he was male, he deliberately pitched his voice high and curled his fingers into a delicate orchid pose.

"Ooh, this little darling. Let this lady have a good taste of you..."

There's a second round?

Shen Nanxun's mouth twitched. This was worse than being killed. He instinctively tried to retreat, but moving pulled at the wound on his leg, and a jolt of pain shot up his spine like an electric current.

Pain.

But the next moment, the pain suddenly seemed far away.

It was as if someone had stuffed his brain with thick cotton. All sensation was rapidly fading.

This is bad.

Shen Nanxun realized what was happening.

He was about to pass out.

His six-year-old body was simply too frail. Blood loss, the impact, and the mental pressure from the two Evil Soul Masters had already pushed his tiny frame past its limits. He desperately tried to stay conscious, digging his fingernails into his palm and biting his tongue, hoping pain would pull him back.

But the dizziness surged over him like a tide, impossible to resist.

In the last instant before his consciousness sank completely into darkness, a light appeared in Shen Nanxun's blurred vision.

Golden light.

The dazzling radiance was gathering from the specks of light continuously streaming off his body.

Summoning the last of his strength, Shen Nanxun struggled to raise his gaze.

Six golden wings entered his field of vision. Beneath them was the figure of a woman.

She had her back to Shen Nanxun, so he couldn't see her face. All he could see was long, flowing golden hair that fell to her waist. She wore a plain white dress of an ancient style, unlike anything from this era, as if she had stepped down from a mural of some ancient Deity.

At the very end of his fading consciousness, he vaguely saw the woman turn her face to the side. Half her profile emerged from the play of light and shadow, revealing a breathtaking beauty. Her neat, short golden hair set off skin as white as snow. Her brows lifted slightly, and the corners of her eyes slanted down.

Her pale violet eyes glimmered softly. They were the last clear vision of beauty he saw before falling into darkness.

"From this moment on, I am your first Soul Spirit."

"My name—"

"Qian Renxue."