Douluo Continent, Heaven Dou Empire, Bright Moon Mountain, six hundred li east of Heaven Dou City.
The mountain range's main peak towered into the clouds, blanketed in white snow all year round. Halfway up the main peak lay a mountain platform carved into a sheer cliff, with clouds and mist churning below.
A black iron chain as thick as a person stretched diagonally downward from the platform's edge, its other end vanishing into the boundless sea of clouds on the opposite side, suspended alone above a thousand-zhang abyss.
On the inner side of the platform stood a mountain gate dozens of zhang tall. Above it, a dragon-severing stone bore three enormous ancient characters: "Clear Sky Sect."
This was the secluded refuge of the Clear Sky Sect, once the greatest sect under heaven.
Beyond the gate lay a vast cavern hollowed out of the mountain. Upon entering, the first thing one encountered was a spacious hall dozens of zhang high.
Past the hall lay a circular training ground with a radius of about a hundred meters. It was the only place inside the cavern with a direct view of the sky, and soft snowflakes were drifting down through it.
In the easternmost corner of the training ground, two boys were swinging iron hammers.
The older one looked about seven or eight, while the younger appeared five or six and stood only as tall as the tips of the other's ears. Both were lean, and their hammer swings already showed some technique.
The iron hammers, each weighing over thirty jin, whipped through their hands with a tiger's vigor. Their swings stirred gusts of air, and whenever the hammers collided, they rang with metallic clangs and sent tiny sparks flying.
An outsider would surely have been astonished that children so young possessed such strength. This was the Clear Sky Sect's core inheritance, the Disorder Splitting Wind Hammer.
"Whew!"
After building up their force through thirty hammer strikes, both boys stopped at the same time and stood with their chests heaving.
The younger boy wiped the sweat from his forehead and tilted his head toward the sky. The snow was falling harder, and it was already growing dark. It was time to go to the dining hall.
His name was Tang Feng, and he was the only grandson of Tang Lie, the Clear Sky Sect's seventh elder.
The other boy was Tang Jian, the only grandson of the sixth elder, Tang Yang.
No one knew that Tang Feng had another identity: he was a reincarnator from "Blue Star."
Six years earlier, after a blind date in which neither party had been particularly interested, a drunk driver had sent him flying. When he opened his eyes again, he had been reborn in this other world called Douluo Continent.
When he first reincarnated, his heart had been filled with uncertainty and shock. Although he had often read reincarnation novels in his previous life, having it happen to him was simply unbelievable. It had taken him quite some time to accept the truth.
Tang Feng knew a little about Douluo Continent, but not much. The original novel itself was a reincarnation story, with its protagonist, Tang San, reincarnating into Douluo Continent from a martial arts world.
But Tang San had brought along his previous life's Tang Sect cultivation methods and the Hidden Weapon Hundred Separations, while Tang Feng had been nothing more than an ordinary corporate slave who had not even passed his driving test.
At first, Tang Feng had also pinned his hopes on a system. Didn't all those reincarnation novels from his previous life come with heaven-defying systems? Sign-ins, check-ins, prize draws, leveling up-they had everything.
Yet six years had passed without the slightest response in his mind. Never mind a system; there had not even been a glimpse of a beginner's gift pack.
Gradually, Tang Feng had given up, joking bitterly to himself that those others had all been true loves, while he was merely an accident.
Douluo Continent was a world where Martial Souls were revered and Soul Power reigned supreme. Fortunately, Tang Feng had been reborn into the Clear Sky Sect, which had still been the greatest sect under heaven at the time.
Before the age of three, Tang Feng had enjoyed a happy, complete family.
His father, Tang Yi, had possessed the Clear Sky Hammer Martial Soul and had been a rank forty-one Battle Soul Ancestor. His mother, Yang Jin, had come from the Breaking Clan, possessed the Soul Breaking Spear Martial Soul, and been a rank thirty-two Battle Soul Elder. His maternal grandfather was none other than the renowned patriarch of the Breaking Clan, Yang Wudi.
But good times did not last. Disaster had struck when he was three. The sect's young master, Tang Hao, had united with a Hundred-Thousand-Year Soul Beast, provoking Spirit Hall into hunting him down. Tang Hao had killed Pope Qian Xunji in retaliation, and Spirit Hall's army had descended upon them. Five Titled Douluo had led the Angel and Holy Dragon legions to the Clear Sky Sect's gates.
The Clear Sky Sect, however, had only Tang Xiao, a rank ninety-two Titled Douluo. Its other Titled Douluo, Tang Hao, had vanished without a trace after causing this colossal disaster. Its only other top combatants were seven elders at the Soul Douluo level.
Of the eight hundred direct-line disciples, only half had survived that battle. The first elder, Tang Zhan, had exhausted his strength and detonated himself, taking several of Spirit Hall's Soul Douluo down with him. The sixth elder, Tang Yang, had died in battle, and the seventh elder, Tang Lie, had been gravely wounded.
With the situation becoming hopeless, Sect Master Tang Xiao had been forced to bow to Spirit Hall to preserve the Clear Sky Hammer bloodline and inheritance, accepting harsh terms: Tang Hao would be expelled from the sect, the four single-attribute clans would sever ties immediately, and the Clear Sky Sect would withdraw from the world, its disciples never setting foot on the continent again.
Both of Tang Feng's parents had tragically fallen in that battle. His grandfather Yang Wudi and the Breaking Clan had also been ruthlessly dismissed and abandoned, and their current circumstances were unknown.
Tang Jian's parents and grandfather, Tang Yang, had all died in battle as well. Tang Yang and Tang Feng's grandfather, Tang Lie, were brothers born to the same mother. From then on, Tang Lie had taken care of Tang Jian, who ate and trained alongside Tang Feng, the two inseparable as a body and its shadow.
Since then, Tang Feng had followed the Clear Sky Sect into seclusion in this ancestral land of ice and snow, cut off from the world.
Three years had now passed, and Tang Feng had turned six. People in Douluo Continent grew and developed relatively quickly. Tang Feng had shot up to 1.2 meters, which was by no means short for his age. Unlike the other members of the Clear Sky Sect, however, he was not heavily built, but exceptionally lean.
For those three years, Tang Feng's daily routine had remained unshakable. Every day, he rose during the chen hour and first ran laps around the training ground with weights to build his stamina.
In the mornings, he buried himself in the reading room, studying Martial Soul Theory on his own. By now, he had read through essentially every book in the Clear Sky Sect's collection.
In the afternoons, he practiced the Disorder Splitting Wind Hammer with Tang Jian under their grandfather's instruction, striking a specially made anvil blow after blow, often training until the webbing between thumb and forefinger split.
Tang Feng knew no cultivation methods and had no system, but he was at least someone who had endured ten years of arduous study and earned a place at university. Naturally, he studied with greater concentration than ordinary children and had a better grasp of hammer techniques.
He spent only half the day practicing with the hammer because it placed an enormous strain on the body, especially a child's. Ordinarily, sect disciples needed medicinal baths to restore their muscles and bones after training. But now that the sect had sealed its mountain and withdrawn into seclusion, cutting off all contact with the outside world, where would the medicinal ingredients come from?
That was also why Tang Feng persisted in running with weights every day. He could only improve his constitution by continually pushing his body to its limits. At the height of pain came numbness, and after numbness came growth.
In truth, Tang Feng could have simply lain flat. His reason for training so hard was not some grand ambition to contend for supremacy or reign over the continent.
It was because he was different from other transmigrators. Tang Feng had not been an orphan in his previous life. Both his parents had been healthy, and his family had been warm and loving.
Reincarnation had not made him forget. Instead, it had made him miss home all the more: the delicious meals his mother cooked, and the games of chess with his father, where he could still act shamelessly when he lost.
Tang Feng thought constantly about how to return to his original world. The only way he could think of was to become a god.
Although his memories of the original novel were extremely vague, with only a few major events and key characters remaining, he remembered clearly that people in this world could cultivate to godhood.
The original protagonist, Tang San, and his companions had all attained divine positions.
What was a god? An existence beyond all nature. If I could become a god, could I also use supernatural abilities to return to my original world and stand beside my parents from my previous life again? Even if it was only to see them one more time.
Of course, before returning to his previous life, he would have to avenge his parents in this one. His foremost enemy was naturally Spirit Hall, followed by Tang Hao.
Whenever he thought of this, Tang Feng's heart grew unbearably heavy.
"Feng, let's stop here for today. It's time to head to the dining hall." Tang Jian's voice, tinged with fatigue, interrupted his thoughts.
Tang Feng gathered himself and quickly put away his hammer, then the two walked shoulder to shoulder toward the dining hall.
The dining hall was merely another, slightly larger stone chamber, furnished with a few crude stone tables and stools. Each of their three daily meals consisted of several flatbreads and a small plate of vegetables. It filled their stomachs, but could hardly be called good. Each person had roughly two chances a month to receive some Soul Beast meat.
After finishing their meal, the two silently returned to Stone House Six.
These so-called stone houses were rows of caves roughly carved into the granite walls surrounding the training ground.
Inside the stone house, four or five small stone chambers, each barely large enough for a bed and a table, had been partitioned around a central open space. Tang Feng, Tang Jian, and their grandfather Tang Lie each occupied one. An oil lamp in the central space barely dispelled a little of the darkness. After greeting their grandfather, the two returned to their respective chambers.
That night, Tang Feng lay on the cold, hard stone bed with his eyes open, not sleepy in the slightest. As he stared at the uneven stone ceiling, a single thought turned over and over in his mind.
Tomorrow was the Martial Soul Awakening ceremony.
I wonder what Martial Soul I'll awaken? he murmured inwardly.