Report

In the dean of studies' office of Eastsea Academy's intermediate division, the air itself carried a hint of tension.

Stacks of new student files sat piled high on the dark brown solid-wood desk, their edges pressed into neat alignment.

The standing air conditioner in the corner blew cool air, but it could not disperse the anger on Long Hengxu's face.

He had been the dean of studies for over a decade and had always been known for his strictness. He valued rules above all else.

New students who arrived even half a day late for registration would receive a disciplinary warning, let alone someone who had missed an entire day. Such a case was rare even in his teaching career.

Tang Wulin stood before the desk with his back ramrod straight.

He was still wearing the new clothes Lang Yue had specially made for him—a highly saturated purple shirt patterned with fine golden designs on top, and bright yellow trousers below. The clashing colors were eye-catching enough that anyone could recognize him from far away.

A faded canvas bag hung over his back, with half the wooden handle of a forging hammer sticking out from one side. Having rushed here by train, a thin sheen of sweat clung to his temples and loose strands of hair stuck to his forehead, yet he stood properly without the slightest trace of a cheeky grin.

"You were late on registration day! And by a whole day at that!"

Long Hengxu raised a hand and lightly tapped the desk, his voice as heavy as stone.

"Eastsea Academy has stood for so many years, yet I have never seen a new student dare to miss an entire day of registration.

"Do you have any sense of discipline at all? Do you have any respect for the academy's rules?"

He had noticed the name "Tang Wulin" while sorting through the new student roster yesterday and had deliberately set the file aside, waiting an entire day. Yet the boy had not appeared until the following morning. Naturally, he could not suppress his anger.

"I'm sorry, Teacher."

Tang Wulin lowered his head slightly. His tone was sincere, and he did not offer any elaborate excuse. He merely said simply,

"I was delayed by some unexpected circumstances. It was my fault."

He did not mention the train attack, nor did he say that he had been injured and hospitalized, much less that he had saved an entire train full of people.

In his eyes, late was late. Regardless of the reason, he had indeed broken the academy's rules.

Seeing the boy admit his mistake with a proper attitude and meet his gaze openly without the slightest evasion, more than half of Long Hengxu's anger faded.

He was not an unreasonable man. A nine-year-old child traveling alone from a county town to the city for school was bound to run into trouble on the way.

He snorted and casually pulled out a new student registration form bearing Eastsea Academy's crest from the pile of documents, then handed it over.

"Enough. Fill out the form. Once the information has been verified, you'll be officially registered.

"Be more careful next time. The academy has its rules. Don't be late without reason again."

"Thank you, Teacher."

Tang Wulin accepted the form, took a black fountain pen from the pen holder, then walked to the reception table beside them and bent over it, carefully filling it out stroke by stroke.

He wrote with great care, his handwriting neat and forceful. He filled in "Tang Wulin" under the name field, age nine, hometown Aalai City. When he reached the Soul Power level field, he paused briefly before neatly writing, "Level 15."

When he reached the Martial Soul field, he stopped for several seconds.

Remembering Jin Qiu's words that there was no need to deliberately conceal his Twin Martial Souls since they would be exposed sooner or later anyway, he carefully wrote "Blue Silver Grass/Golden Sacred Dragon Spear," separating the two names with a slash. His handwriting was clear, with no hesitation whatsoever.

Long Hengxu sat behind the desk, his gaze occasionally falling on the boy's back.

He kept feeling that the sight was somehow familiar, as though he had seen it somewhere not long ago.

Yet no matter how he searched through his recent memories, he could not remember where.

He shook his head, assuming he had simply looked through too many new student files lately and was seeing things.

"Teacher, I've finished."

Less than two minutes later, Tang Wulin returned with the completed form and presented it to Long Hengxu with both hands.

Long Hengxu took the form, his eyes casually sweeping down it from top to bottom.

Hometown, Aalai City. Guardian, Tang Ziran... Hm? Soul Power, Level 15?

His gaze paused.

A nine-year-old Level 15 Soul Master—among the new students of the intermediate division, that was already considered an exceptionally outstanding talent. No wonder he had dared to come register on his own.

When his eyes moved further down to the Martial Soul field, they stopped completely.

"Blue Silver Grass/Golden Sacred Dragon Spear?"

Long Hengxu frowned and quietly read the names aloud.

Of course he knew Blue Silver Grass. It was the most common worthless Martial Soul on the continent.

But what kind of Martial Soul was this "Golden Sacred Dragon Spear"?

He had been the dean of studies at Eastsea Academy for more than a decade. If he had not seen a thousand Martial Souls, he had seen at least eight hundred. He had encountered quite a few spear-type Martial Souls as well—Soulbreaking Spear, Earthsplitter Spear, Gale Spear, all fairly common—but he had never heard of any Golden Sacred Dragon Spear.

Dragon-type Martial Souls were already extremely rare, and he had never even heard of a dragon-type weapon Martial Soul.

"What Martial Soul is that? Why have I never heard of it?"

He raised his head and looked at Tang Wulin, his eyes full of confusion.

"Please take a look, Teacher."

Tang Wulin did not explain further. He raised his right hand and silently circulated the Soul Power within his body.

With a soft hum,

dazzling brilliant golden light burst from his palm, and a long spear slowly condensed into shape.

The spear was roughly 1.6 meters long. Its main body was pure, brilliant gold, its surface carved with fine, three-dimensional dragon-scale patterns. Deep purple dragon markings coiled around the shaft, extending from the butt of the spear all the way to its tip.

The spearhead was as sharp as a cold star, its edges gleaming with an icy luster. A faint layer of purple mist also lingered around it—the restrained aura of destruction. It was nearly imperceptible without close inspection, yet it made the surrounding air grow subtly heavier.

The long spear rested in the boy's hand. Though he was only nine years old, he somehow exuded a steady, imposing presence.

"This is..."

Long Hengxu abruptly rose from his chair, his eyes fixed on the Golden Sacred Dragon Spear in Tang Wulin's hand.

No, it was far too familiar.

That spear, that boy's build, and those glaring purple-and-yellow clothes...

A flash of inspiration struck his mind. It felt as though he had seized something crucial, yet he did not dare be certain.

"Turn around for a moment."

He hurriedly spoke, his voice more urgent than before.

Although Tang Wulin found it somewhat baffling, he obediently turned around and stood with his back to Long Hengxu.

The brilliant golden spear was held at an angle in his hand. The boy's not particularly broad back was ramrod straight, and his clashing purple-over-yellow outfit stood out vividly in the sunlight by the window.

Looking at that back, Long Hengxu's memory instantly clicked into place.

That was it! This was the exact back! Those were the exact clothes!

The photo from the scene he had seen in the local news this morning was almost identical!

"All right, turn back around."

Long Hengxu suppressed the turbulent waves in his heart and waved his hand.

Once Tang Wulin turned back, he immediately picked up the soul-guided phone on his desk, his fingers swiftly sliding across the screen.

He opened the morning's headline notification. Its publication time showed exactly eight o'clock that morning, and the title was displayed in bold letters—<Soul-Guided Train Attacked by Evil Soul Masters; Two Young Boys Step Forward to Save an Entire Train of Passengers!>

When he opened the full article, the first image was a photo taken by a passerby at the scene.

The image quality was not especially clear, but it still clearly showed a boy in conspicuous purple-and-yellow clothes holding a golden spear as he stood at the entrance to a train carriage.

On the ground were the traces left behind after the Evil Soul Masters had dissipated, while the background showed passengers who had yet to recover from the shock.

Though the photo only captured his profile and most of his back, there was no mistaking that highly distinctive golden spear or those one-of-a-kind clothes.

Long Hengxu turned the phone screen toward Tang Wulin and held it out to him, his voice carrying an almost imperceptible tremor.

"Is this person you?"

Tang Wulin lowered his head and glanced at the phone screen.

The photo showed the scene after he had killed the leading Bat Owl Evil Soul Master yesterday. It had been taken from the side of the carriage. It really was him.

He did not deny it, nor did he show the slightest pride or boastfulness. He merely nodded calmly, his tone as flat as if he were discussing something utterly insignificant.

"That's me, Teacher."