Three days passed in the blink of an eye. Today was the village's martial soul awakening day. Tang Xuan and Tang San both felt a stirring of excitement and anticipation. They were about to formally embark on their journey in this world.
"Brother, what martial souls do you think we'll awaken?" Tang San asked. He was a little worried about the quality of his martial soul. Most martial souls were inherited from one's parents, and his father, Tang Hao, was only a down-and-out blacksmith. Though he did not know what his father's martial soul was, he doubted it could be anything good.
Tang Xuan, who knew Tang San would awaken twin martial souls, was not worried about the quality of his own at all. After all, he was Tang Hao's son too. Surely he would inherit one of his father's or mother's martial souls! The Blue Silver Emperor and the Clear Sky Hammer were both top-tier martial souls.
"Don't worry, San," Tang Xuan said. "Whatever martial soul you awaken, what matters is how you use it. Remember, San: there are no useless martial souls, only useless Soul Masters. True genius is nurtured with ninety-nine percent sweat and one percent talent." With a perfectly earnest expression, Tang Xuan offered Tang San these words of comfort.
Lying inside the house, Tang Hao heard Tang Xuan's words, and a sharp gleam flashed through his dull eyes. "No useless martial souls, only useless Soul Masters?" he murmured. As though something had come to mind, a bitter smile touched his lips. His eyes soon lost their luster again, and he rolled over and closed them. What use were a powerful martial soul and strength to Tang Hao now?
"Xuan, San, come on out! Grandpa's here to pick you up." Old Jack's voice sounded outside the door. He stood there looking full of vigor, having put on a new set of clothes especially for today to mark the solemn occasion. To him, this was a matter of the utmost importance. If the village could produce a Soul Master-even someone who merely became a Soul Scholar-it would bring honor to him and the village, continuing the blessings left by that esteemed Soul Saint a hundred years ago.
Tang Xuan called into the house, "Dad, we're leaving."
"Don't forget to come back and make lunch." After those words came from inside, the house fell silent again, with no further response.
"Xuan, San, let's go. Don't mind him," Old Jack said. He was nowhere near as polite to Tang Hao. If not for Tang Xuan and Tang San, he would never have wanted to come looking for him. Taking the boys by the hand, Old Jack headed straight for the Spirit Hall at the center of the village.
People were already lining up outside the Spirit Hall in the village center. Old Jack had made a special trip to fetch Tang Xuan and Tang San. A crowd of adults stood nearby, most of them there to bring their children for their martial soul awakening. The brothers took their places at the back of the line without being told. A young man stood in front of the Spirit Hall, dressed in an ornate uniform. The badge on his chest bore two longswords, marking him as a second-rank Soul Master. With sword-like brows and star-bright eyes, he was quite handsome.
Tang Xuan looked at him and thought, This must be the legendary Blind Douluo, Su Yuntao! Tang San's guide, the man who personally dug the grave that would bury Spirit Hall. If the people of Spirit Hall knew they had a traitor like him among them, they'd probably die of rage.
Old Jack stepped forward, bowed to Su Yuntao, and said respectfully, "Master Su, sorry for troubling you again this year."
"You're welcome," Su Yuntao replied coldly, his face full of arrogance. Old Jack did not mind. The gulf in status between ordinary people and Soul Masters was enormous. The weak were meat for the strong-that was the law of nature.
Old Jack turned to the children before him. "Children, listen to the master in a moment, and do your best to become Soul Masters and bring honor to the village." Then he added, "But don't be discouraged if you can't become a Soul Master. Everyone..."
"Enough, enough. You say the same few lines every year. I've heard them so often my ears have grown calluses. Your village hasn't produced a Soul Master in years." Before Old Jack could finish, Su Yuntao cut him off.
At those words, Old Jack said with a bitter expression, "Yes, it's far too difficult for us commoners to become Soul Masters. Only those born into noble families or sects have any chance!"
"All right, let's hurry up and begin. I still have to get to the next village," Su Yuntao said. He had no desire to listen to Old Jack's lamenting. To him, this was nothing more than going through the motions. He did not expect to discover any geniuses in a tiny village.
"Children, follow me into the Spirit Hall," Su Yuntao said. He stepped forward and pushed open its doors, then moved aside to let the children behind him enter.
Though called a Spirit Hall, the village's Spirit Hall was nothing more than a wooden house in the village center with a Spirit Hall plaque hanging outside. Still, in this impoverished rural village, it was taller and somewhat finer than the other buildings. Humble as it looked, the vast majority of villages across the continent had a Spirit Hall like this one. It showed that Spirit Hall's influence had already penetrated to the lowest levels of the continent, giving it control over the vast majority of Soul Masters. If it wished, it could deal the two great empires a fatal blow at any time, yet neither empire had noticed this hidden danger. Perhaps, even if they noticed it now, they could no longer do anything about it. The power of the people was the key to an empire's rule, but clearly neither empire had recognized this. In the people's hearts, Spirit Hall held greater influence than either of the two great empires.
The rot within the two great empires was slowly deepening. Even without the threat brought by the later founding of the Spirit Hall Empire, both empires would crumble with the passage of time. Even the might of powerful Soul Masters would be of no help. At this, Tang Xuan shook his head helplessly.
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