Wang Yan knelt in front of the fallen beast, his eyes closing as he focused his awareness. The purple Soul Ring hovered silently, rotating in the air, heavy with energy. Slowly, it descended, surrounding him, circling his form in a firm, deliberate orbit.
He reached inward and began absorbing it.
Within moments, his face tensed, even though his eyes were still closed. His eyebrows drew together sharply, the muscles around his eyes contracting. His lips pressed tightly, jaw rigid. Sweat formed quickly on his brow, trickling down his face.
Every movement of his body, though slight, betrayed the immense pressure within. His hands twisted subtly, fingers gripping and releasing as if trying to channel or resist the overwhelming power. His legs shifted minutely, pressing against the ground, steadying him, but betraying the strain that pressed up from deep within his soul.
It was like his very soul was being cut into thousands of tiny slivers, every fragment tested, every edge screaming for control. His body mirrored it — the faint tremble in his shoulders and chest, the slight flexing of his arms — each tiny motion reflecting the agony his consciousness was enduring.
Liu Ming's face hardened. "We've never seen him under so much pressure," he murmured, eyes fixed on Wang Yan. "This isn't just a normal Soul Ring… this one must be far beyond what we expected. Far beyond 2,000 years."
Chen Yu's wind-touched movements stilled as he watched. "He's… in terrible pain," he said quietly. Zhao Qing's fists sparked faintly, lightning crackling in restrained bursts as he stepped closer instinctively, concern clear in his narrowed eyes.
But there was nothing they could do. This battle was not against a beast now — it was against Wang Yan's own spirit, his consciousness. All they could do was watch, trust him, and wait.
Minutes stretched. The pressure pulsed like a relentless tide, but gradually, Wang Yan's face began to ease. His jaw unclenched slightly, his eyebrows relaxed, and the faint tremble in his fingers subsided. His breathing returned to an even rhythm, deep but controlled. His body was still tense, yes, but now it was a measured tension, a posture of meditation, not of agony.
Finally, after enduring the relentless pressure, he absorbed the Soul Ring fully. He began to rise, only to feel a sharp, sudden pain in his right leg.
He froze, wincing slightly. The three friends rushed forward instinctively. "Wang Yan! What happened?" Zhao Qing called.
He could not answer immediately. His focus was elsewhere. A faint light glimmered from his leg — soft at first, then brighter, almost radiant. His eyes, though open now, flickered down to the source.
The object attached itself firmly to his leg. It was unlike anything he had seen before — solid, structured, and powerful, yet completely unidentifiable. Wang Yan reached to touch it. The moment his fingers brushed it, a sharp twinge of pain shot through him, causing him to inhale sharply. He tried to remove it, but it clung firmly, immovable.
Minutes passed. Slowly, he adjusted, channeling his spirit power, attempting to absorb or control the strange object. For a fleeting moment, it seemed to vanish, only to reappear moments later. This time, he could manipulate it slightly — push it in, pull it out — but he did not understand what it was.
The friends watched silently, their expressions a mixture of awe and concern. None could identify it.
Finally, Liu Ming spoke, voice calm but firm: "We'll have to ask your grandfather about that later."
Wang Yan exhaled, still standing, pain subsiding to a dull warmth. He nodded slightly. The immediate struggle was over, but the mystery remained.
Curiosity broke the tension. Chen Yu stepped closer, eyes wide. "Wang Yan… you were in so much pain. Are you… alright?"
Wang Yan allowed a small smile. "I'm fine. But… my soul power… it's… reached level thirty-three."
The friends froze. Thirty-three. From thirty to thirty-three — the jump was massive. They knew that a third Soul Ring, if suitably powerful, could boost a Soul Master by one or two levels, but this — this indicated something extraordinary.
"This Soul Ring… it wasn't just a 2,000-year ring," Liu Ming murmured. "It must be far stronger."
Zhao Qing and Chen Yu exchanged shocked glances. They understood immediately — the beast's Soul Ring had been overwhelmingly powerful, beyond what they had expected.
After a brief silence, Wang Yan's eyes flicked toward the mysterious object still faintly glowing on his leg. "We'll ask my grandfather about this when we get back," he said calmly. "For now… we have the Soul Ring. That's enough."
Nodding, the four friends gathered their things.
Chen Yu stepped forward, unable to contain his curiosity any longer. "Wang Yan… after everything you went through, the pressure, the pain… what did that Soul Ring give you? It must be something insane!"
Zhao Qing's hands sparked faintly, his eyes narrowing with concern and anticipation. "Yeah, we could see how intense it was. Whatever skill you gained… it has to be powerful."
Liu Ming's calm tone carried weight as he added, "We've never seen a Soul Ring push you like that. Tell us… what exactly does it do?"
Wang Yan exhaled slowly, eyes focused on the ground for a moment, as if recalling the flow of energy he'd just absorbed. Then he looked up at them. "It's… unlike anything I've used before," he began carefully. "The Soul Ring granted me a new skill. I've decided to call it Rain of Swords. It lets me project multiple sword attacks simultaneously, each controlled by my own intent and moving independently of the others."
Chen Yu's eyes widened. "Wait… multiple swords? Like, at the same time? That's crazy!"
Wang Yan nodded. "Exactly. Unlike my previous single-slash techniques, this isn't just a straight attack. I can strike multiple targets at once, cover a wide area, and control the flow however I need. Each sword can pierce, cut, or suppress enemies — whatever the situation demands."
Zhao Qing's voice lowered, impressed. "So it's… flexible. You can overwhelm a group or focus on one target, depending on what you need."
"Yes," Wang Yan confirmed. "The number of swords I can project depends on my soul power and focus. I can spread them like waves for crowd control or concentrate them on a single point for maximum damage."
Liu Ming finally allowed a small nod, a rare sign of approval. "That makes sense. The pressure you went through just now… that level of pain shows the Soul Ring was far beyond ordinary. This skill must be truly formidable."
Chen Yu grinned, almost bouncing in place. "I can't wait to see it in action. If it's even half as strong as it looks, nothing's getting past you."
Wang Yan's gaze swept the dense forest, his voice calm but firm. "Our fight here might have attracted attention from various Soul Beasts. We have to get out of the forest before anything else shows up."
Zhao Qing exhaled slowly, tension easing from his shoulders. "Right. We've already pushed our luck enough."
Step by step, the four friends moved through the forest, leaving the fallen beast behind. Sunlight began filtering through the trees, guiding them back toward Gray Stone Village.
End of chapter.