When Cain finished his story, silence hung over the village gate like a veil.The morning sun had climbed higher now, its rays cutting through the mist that still clung to the distant hills. Birds chirped faintly somewhere beyond, but their songs sounded far away, muted — as though even nature paused to weigh the story's truth.
Tang San didn't speak. His expression remained calm, polite even , but his dark blue eyes held a faint, chilling gleam that most would overlook.
Inside his mind, his thoughts were sharp and cold.
'General Principle of the Tang Sect — Fourth Point: Never believe what you have not seen with your own eyes.'
Like all the other rules, Tang San had always used it selectively — following it when convenient, twisting it when not.
Still, in this moment, it anchored him.
'This Cain… his words are too polished, too rehearsed. His story was designed to move hearts, not to tell truth,' he thought quietly.'A merchant who speaks like a preacher, praises the Angel Corps as if he were one of them — and conveniently appears on the day of martial soul awakening? Hmph. How… coincidental.'
The faintest smile touched his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Old Jack, misreading Tang San's silence as stubbornness or fatigue, hurried to ease the tension. "Alright, alright, Cain, enough stories for today. The boy's got his father to tend to," he said lightly. Then turning to Tang San, he continued, "I'll talk to your father, Little San. If he agrees, you'll join us for the prayer and then go for your awakening."
Tang San only nodded faintly. "As you wish, Elder Jack."His tone was obedient, yet distant — like someone humoring a child's whim.
Old Jack smiled in relief and began walking down the dusty path toward the blacksmith's hut. Tang San followed, his gaze occasionally flicking to the villagers gathering for the morning prayer at the small Angel statue near the well.
Behind them, Cain stood still, watching their departing figures. The wind rustled his coat, revealing a glimpse of something metallic near his wrist.
His lips curled into an almost imperceptible smile.As he adjusted his sleeve, a small object slipped briefly into view — a token, black as obsidian, etched with a faint sigil.
A twelve-pointed star radiated from a hooded eye, half-shut, as if peering from the veil between dream and reality, it was the symbol of Twilight Hermit Order.
----
After Old Jack persuaded Tang Hao, Tang San reached the Spirit Hall branch of Holy Soul Village.
The familiar dirt paths, the weathered cottages, even the wind carrying faint traces of wheat and incense.
His father, Tang Hao, now lived in that run-down forge, drunk and hollow-eyed. A man who once carried the might of the Clear Sky Hammer now seemed broken and dull.
"All this… is because of you, Spirit Hall," Tang San thought coldly, his eyes narrowing. "I will destroy you… just like I did before."
His hands clenched unconsciously. "First, I'll awaken my Twin Martial Souls—the Blue Silver Grass and the Clear Sky Hammer. Once Father sees them, he'll rise again."
He raised his gaze toward the newly built Spirit Hall branch at the center of the village.Unlike the crude structure from his memories, this one looked more solid—walls painted, the emblem of six radiant wings carved upon the front, and a faint aroma of burning incense wafting through the entrance.
Tang San frowned slightly."That's odd… In my memory, the villagers cleaned an abandoned house and called it a Spirit Hall branch right before the awakening day. This… feels like an actual temple."
Indeed, it was.If he had ever cared to mingle with the villagers, he would have known. The people of Holy Soul Village, had collectively rebuilt the old shrine under the guidance of Spirit Hall.Now, every morning and evening, the villagers gathered here to offer prayers to the Angel Goddess, seeking blessings for their children.
But Tang San had never been one for such things. He never joined their gatherings, nor did he look twice at Old Jack's calls for unity.His isolation, had deepened by the memories of his future self.
He stood apart even now, waiting coldly as the other children lined up nervously. Their parents whispered prayers under their breath, faces full of reverence and hope.
The door of the Spirit Hall branch opened, and the man in gray-green robes entered with calm, measured steps. His presence was unassuming yet filled the room with an aura of authority. His familiar green eyes swept over the children before resting on Old Jack.
"As expected," Tang San murmured under his breath, his tone neither surprised nor respectful.It was Su Yuntao—the same man who had awakened his martial soul in his previous life.
Old Jack hurried forward and bowed slightly, his tone full of sincere respect."Esteemed Soul Master, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to awaken the children's martial souls."
Su Yuntao nodded curtly. "No need for such formality. These are dangerous times. All working Soul Masters have been assigned to patrol groups—some to protect villages, others to hunt remaining rogue soul beasts."
Old Jack's eyes widened slightly. "Then… has the situation deteriorated again?"He gripped his walking stick tighter, worry etched into his wrinkled face.
Su Yuntao waved his hand dismissively. "No. On the contrary, things are much more stable than before. The patrols are merely a precaution. Spirit Hall does not permit chaos to take root."
Old Jack sighed in relief, shoulders loosening. "That's… that's a comfort to hear."