"Buzz—!"
The spirit ring was drawn in, instantly transforming into a surging purple torrent. Carrying the residual energy of the Nether Howl Banshee, it frantically poured into Castorice's young body.
"Ugh ah—!"
Intense pain erupted instantly, far exceeding imagination.
Although her Golden Lineage physique was far tougher than her peers, absorbing a thousand-year soul ring above her rank—especially one from a top-tier Death-attribute Soul Beast like the Nether Howl Banshee—its violent energy nearly tore open her slender Meridians and shredded her consciousness.
The icy energy felt like hundreds of millions of ice needles piercing her limbs and bones.
Castorice's small face instantly lost all color. Her body trembled violently, and fine beads of cold sweat continuously seeped out, nearly soaking her clothes.
She gritted her teeth, her lower lip even bitten until it bled, and faint golden blood slowly trickled down.
Fei Yan watched silently from the side, her expression serious.
She could feel the intensity of the energy impact. Even she had to admit that for a six-year-old child absorbing her first spirit ring, this was a Hellish torment.
She was ready to act at any moment, not to interrupt the process, but perhaps to forcibly save Castorice's life if she truly neared collapse.
Although that would mean all previous efforts were wasted, it would also mean a sharp drop in Castorice's value in Ye Xishui's eyes.
Time passed slowly. In the secluded valley, there was only the sound of surging energy and Castorice's suppressed, painful gasps.
"I must grow stronger..."
"I must become the strongest..."
"No one can dominate my fate..."
Amidst the boundless agony, what prevented Castorice from collapsing was the obsession stemming from the depths of her Soul—her refusal to be ordinary—and her desire for power and freedom.
This obsession acted like a lighthouse in a storm, guarding her last shred of clarity, allowing her to use her tenacious will to guide the violent energy, gradually scouring and widening her Meridians, integrating into her Soul Power, and undergoing the difficult Fusion with her Regent of Death Martial Soul.
This process lasted for a full two hours.
For a Soul Master absorbing their first spirit ring, this duration was astonishingly long, indirectly proving the danger and difficulty of the absorption process.
Finally, when the last trace of energy was completely absorbed, the violent aura surrounding Castorice gradually stabilized.
The deep purple spirit ring quietly appeared beneath her feet, gently pulsing like a docile pet.
She succeeded!
Her first spirit ring was a thousand-year soul ring absorbed above her rank.
Castorice slowly opened her eyes. In the depths of her originally amethyst-like pupils, a trace of profound Death Qi seemed to have been added.
The Soul Power fluctuations around her were significantly stronger; she had officially become a one-ring Soul Master.
"How do you feel, little Holy Maiden?"
Seeing her success, Fei Yan also sighed in relief and asked with interest.
"What Spirit Ability did you gain?"
Castorice did not answer directly, but slowly raised her right hand.
As the purple thousand-year soul ring beneath her feet shone, a dense Death aura condensed and took shape in her hand.
In an instant, a strangely shaped yet magnificent weapon appeared in her hand.
It was a scythe, dark purple in color.
The handle of the scythe was long and slender, seemingly forged from a Fusion of dark metal and unknown creature bones, with delicate black patterns Entanglement around it like butterfly antennae.
The blade of the scythe was massive and curved, its arc graceful yet emitting extreme sharpness and danger. The blade surface had eerie patterns resembling butterfly wings, shimmering with a deep purple light.
The entire scythe looked both like a deadly instrument for harvesting life and a meticulously carved artwork embodying the aesthetics of death—the Styx Death Scythe.
"This is my First Spirit Ability."
Castorice said softly, her voice still carrying a trace of weakness, yet exceptionally calm.
Fei Yan raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised: "A weapon-type Spirit Ability? That's rare, but... it suits your Death attribute. What is its effect? Sharpness enhancement? Or does it carry Death Erosion?"
Castorice's lips curled into a faint, slightly dangerous smile:
"As for the effect... why don't you experience it yourself, Senior Fei Yan?"
Hearing this, a trace of amusement flashed in Fei Yan's crimson eyes.
She had absolute confidence in her strength. Even if a little Soul Master who had just gained her First Spirit Ability possessed a unique Martial Soul, how could she possibly harm her?
She carelessly extended her right hand, placing her fair index and middle fingers together, and smiled:
"Alright, let me see the mystery of the little Holy Maiden's Spirit Ability."
Castorice did not hold back. She gripped the Styx Death Scythe tightly and swung it seemingly casually toward Fei Yan's joined fingers.
A deep purple blade light flashed, its speed astonishing.
Fei Yan indeed did not dodge. Just as the scythe reached her, she precisely used her index and middle fingers to lightly clamp down, seemingly effortlessly catching the tip of the blade.
The sensation was like catching a falling feather.
"The speed is acceptable, and the sharpness is also..."
Fei Yan was about to comment, but her words abruptly stopped.
She frowned slightly and looked at her fingertips.
On the pad of her index finger that had gripped the blade tip, there was a wound even smaller than a strand of hair, and an extremely tiny bead of blood was slowly seeping out.
This minor injury was negligible for a Super Douluo, not even comparable to a mosquito bite.
Normally, under the circulation of her immense vitality and Soul Power, such a tiny wound would heal instantly.
However, several breaths passed, and the small wound still remained. The tiny bead of blood was congealed but not dispersed, showing no sign of healing.
The playful smile on Fei Yan's face gradually faded, replaced by a trace of surprise and solemnity.
She could feel an extremely subtle yet incredibly stubborn Death energy, like a persistent maggot, entrenched in the minute wound, preventing its natural healing. Even when she mobilized her Soul Power to disperse it, the effect was minimal.
"This is...?" Fei Yan looked up at Castorice.
Castorice retracted the Styx Death Scythe, and the magnificent weapon dissipated into points of purple light.
Looking at the tiny, unhealing wound on Senior Fei Yan's finger, she softly explained:
"This is my First Spirit Ability—Styx Death Scythe. The effect is simple: any person wounded by this Death Scythe will find their injury unable to heal naturally, nor can it be cured or purified by conventional means."
She paused, then continued:
"Of course, this 'inability to heal' is not permanent. Its duration depends on the amount of Death power I imbue the Scythe with during the attack. With my current Soul Power, if I exert maximum effort, it is enough to prevent the wound from healing for at least one day."
Unable to heal for one day.
Fei Yan's heart trembled.
For ordinary people, or even low-rank Soul Masters, an unhealing wound, even if initially minor, could be fatal due to continuous blood loss and the inability to treat it.