The night air was still.
In the quiet courtyard, moonlight bathed the stones in silver, glinting off the polished edges of the weapon now resting in Qiang Ming's hands. The Abyss Soul Hammer pulsed softly, a low hum like the echo of an ancient gong resonating in the back of his mind.
Qiang Ming stood in the center of the training ground, surrounded by smooth stone walls and enchanted wards. He took a step forward, dragging the hammer behind him, its weight far beyond anything a child his age should be able to carry.
Yet he moved it as if it were an extension of his own soul.
With a slow exhale, he planted his foot, turned his hips, and swung.
BOOM!
The impact reverberated through the entire courtyard. Dust lifted. The protective array flickered slightly, absorbing the shock.
His eyes remained calm, focused.
Again. And again.
He practiced until the stars overhead began to fade into dawn, and only then did he rest, sitting on the training mat with sweat beading at his brow. But his spirit burned brightly, hunger for progress alive in his chest.
The following days moved quickly.
Word of Qiang Ming's successful fusion and strange new Spirit Soul spread like wildfire through the inner halls of the Clear Flow Clan. Servants spoke of it in whispers. Younger disciples snuck glances at his courtyard. Even some elders who had once written off the boy now observed him from afar with thoughtful expressions.
"His Martial Soul mutated during fusion?"
"Yes. The Soulful Hammer was devoured, or... evolved. Now it's called the Abyss Soul Hammer."
"Sounds dangerous."
"Or promising."
Still, the pressure around him grew. Expectations piled on. The prodigal heir of a dying clan with a strange, unprecedented power—he could not afford to falter.
His training regimen intensified.
Each morning, he sparred under the guidance of a retired Soul Elder who had been hired by the clan long ago to train elite children. The man, Master Jun, had a grizzled beard and eyes that missed nothing.
"Strength is not enough," Jun growled as he parried one of Qiang Ming's strikes with a wooden pole. "Timing. Footwork. Leverage. Learn them, or your hammer will crush you instead of your enemy."
Qiang Ming didn't speak. He simply nodded, steadied his stance, and tried again.
In the afternoons, he cultivated beneath the Great Spirit Tree in the eastern gardens. The tree had been planted by an ancestor who once reached the rank of Titled Douluo. Its aura enhanced spiritual growth, and there Qiang Ming sat, legs crossed, hands resting on his knees, guiding his soul power in disciplined patterns.
He focused on the hammer's rhythm.
It throbbed like a heart—slow, heavy beats. But beneath each beat, there was another pulse. A deeper one. As if the Martial Soul had layers. Depths he hadn't yet reached.
Sometimes, while meditating, he saw visions.
Not of the future, but of voids. Empty places with no light. In those dreams, he swung the Abyss Hammer not to destroy—but to reveal. To break walls. To open.
What was sealed must be unsealed.
A week after the fusion, the clan's elders requested a formal demonstration.
It was customary. Every child with Innate Full Soul Power and a unique Martial Soul was expected to showcase their capabilities to the decision-makers of the clan. It wasn't a test, strictly speaking—but everyone knew it would determine the level of resources allocated to his future.
Inside the northern combat hall, Qiang Ming stood before an audience of thirty.
On his left, his father. On his right, Elder Rong, Elder Xiu, and several other high-ranking members of the clan's inner circle.
Opposite him stood a test construct: a metal effigy imbued with a defensive spell matrix simulating the durability of a Rank 20 Spirit Beast.
"Begin when ready," announced Elder Rong.
Qiang Ming nodded, taking in a breath. He reached out, and with a shimmer of purple light, the Abyss Soul Hammer manifested in his hands. The weight was familiar now—no longer oppressive. It settled naturally in his grip.
He stepped forward.
Then another step.
Then he moved.
In an instant, he closed the gap between him and the construct. With a low grunt, he spun, raising the hammer overhead and bringing it down with a tremendous crash.
BOOOOOM!
The construct shattered.
Not cracked. Not dented.
Shattered—into fragments that skittered across the marble floor like broken glass.
Gasps erupted from the observers.
"No external technique?"
"No enhancement?"
"Just raw force…"
But it wasn't just the power that unsettled them. It was the aura. The energy that rippled out from the impact carried a strange stillness with it—as if, for a moment, time had paused. A ripple of something unseen—deep and patient—washed through the room.
Qiang Ming turned calmly to face them again, hammer dissolving behind his back.
Elder Xiu spoke first. "I sensed... spiritual compression. As if the energy around the impact point was... folded."
"His Martial Soul must be generating gravitational resonance," Elder He Wu mused. "It's compressing force spatially and releasing it in shockwaves."
Qiang Shen said nothing, but his eyes burned with quiet pride.
That night, the council gathered and unanimously approved Qiang Ming's elevation to Core Disciple status. Resources, tutors, cultivation treasures, access to restricted archives—all of it now belonged to the boy.
But Qiang Ming didn't smile when he was told.
He only nodded, went back to his courtyard, and trained.
Days turned to weeks.
The Abyss Soul Hammer began to reveal new characteristics.
In training, Qiang Ming discovered that he could project a "gravity field" with his strikes. It wasn't visible, but enemies caught within range would feel their movements slow, their footing destabilized.
Even more intriguing—when Qiang Ming meditated at night, his spirit would drift deeper. Sometimes he could hear echoes within the hammer. Distant voices. Words he couldn't quite understand.
Once, he heard a phrase:
"Break the first chain."
He didn't know what it meant.
But instinctively, he swung the hammer in meditation—and his soul force spiraled violently. His meridians ached. His body trembled.
But afterward, his spiritual pool expanded. And the hammer felt... quieter. As if something within it had relaxed, even slightly.
Was he unlocking it? Bit by bit?
One month after his awakening, Qiang Ming sat with his father again in the family shrine.
Candles burned low. Incense coiled toward the rafters. Portraits of ancestors stared down at them with unmoving gazes.
"You've progressed faster than anyone expected," Qiang Shen said quietly.
"I want to go faster," Qiang Ming replied.
"Greed for power leads to recklessness. Even prodigies fall if they push without care."
"I don't want power for its own sake."
"Oh?" Qiang Shen turned to him. "Then why do you train with such intensity?"
Qiang Ming hesitated, then answered softly, "Because I think this spirit was given to me for a reason. It's not just strong. It's waiting for something. Calling me somewhere. I want to understand it."
His father was silent for a long time. Then he stood, placing a hand gently on his son's shoulder.
"Then I will make sure no one stands in your way."
Far beyond the walls of East Sea City, deep in a ruin buried under ocean rock, a ripple stirred in the spiritual plane. A dormant seal flickered.
Something... heard the echo of the hammer's awakening.
And something... opened its eyes.