Ever since Han Feng awakened his martial soul, Zhang Lingling's doting on him had only intensified. Perhaps realizing that Han Feng would inevitably become a powerful soul master and could no longer stay by her side every day, she poured all the affection meant for the next decade into these few short days.
This drove Han Dang nearly mad. He almost severed ties with his own son!
Still, Han Dang had his ways. To get Han Feng out of the house, he made a decisive move and enrolled him in the city's elementary soul master academy. After all, with innate full soul power, how could he not study? His reasoning was perfectly sound—not at all just an excuse to spend more time alone with his wife!
Sure, he was a Soul Elder, but between his busy schedule and limited teaching ability, where would he find time to train a child? Zhang Lingling was a Soul Exalt, yes, but as a support-type soul master, her expertise wasn't aligned with Han Feng's needs.
However, the academy wouldn't start for another two months. So Han Dang would just have to endure his wife's doting a little longer...
Han Feng himself had suggested attending Nuoding Academy. Over the past six years, he'd done his homework: the current Pope of Spirit Hall was none other than Bibi Dong, and the great Haotian Douluo had vanished six years ago. He was likely the same age as Tang San.
Nuoding Academy had adorable Xiao Wu, the theory-savvy Grandmaster, and Tang San, the future Sea God. How could he not try to get in their good graces?
If only his own advantages were anywhere near Tang San's—he wouldn't have to shamelessly latch on to Tang San's coattails!
The immortal herbs, the Sea God trials—none of that could happen without Tang San!
But before Han Feng could voice this immature idea, Zhang Lingling shot it down immediately.
Their home was in Stan City—not exactly worlds away from Nuoding, but far enough that it wasn't somewhere you could casually attend. Zhang Lingling was already reluctant to let Han Feng go to Spirit Hall, let alone a distant Nuoding Academy.
Going to a local school still meant she could see her son regularly. If he went to Nuoding, she might only see him once every six months!
In their family, Zhang Lingling was the final authority—her will was law. Han Feng had no choice but to drop the idea.
Naturally, with innate full soul power, Han Feng needed a soul ring. So, with the academy term two months away, Han Dang and Zhang Lingling took Han Feng into the Soul-Hunting Forest to help him obtain his first soul ring.
Although Han Dang specialized in defense and Zhang Lingling in support, both were high-level soul masters—Soul Elder and Soul Exalt respectively. Dealing with a four- or five-hundred-year-old soul beast didn't even require soul skills. Their raw soul power alone could easily overwhelm such beasts.
Only after entering the Soul-Hunting Forest did Han Feng realize that all those fanfictions he'd read in his past life—where protagonists casually slaughtered hundred- or thousand-year soul beasts—were complete fantasy.
Even someone like Tang San, with his many hacks, had to use every trick in the book to exploit a weak spot just to defeat the Mandrake Serpent.
Han Feng? No secret techniques. No hidden weapons. What was he supposed to use—his face?
In his past life, Han Feng wasn't a soldier or assassin—the most intense experience he'd had was college military training. His mental fortitude was slightly above average at best. And now, facing soul beasts—each more vicious and hideous than the last—he couldn't help but feel paralyzed.
Sure, he'd seen plenty of fierce martial souls before. But soul beasts exuded a primal, murderous aura that soul masters simply didn't have. Could anyone honestly say that if you locked an ordinary person in a cage with a tiger, they wouldn't panic?
Han Feng was twenty in his last life and still got nervous when the village goose—his childhood nemesis—looked at him the wrong way.
So he did the smart thing: quietly stayed behind Zhang Lingling and Han Dang, trying not to make trouble.
To Han Dang and Zhang Lingling, this behavior showed maturity. Most six-year-olds would be crying and screaming at the sight of a soul beast!
"Dad, what kind of soul beast should I choose for my first soul ring?"
Han Feng stuck close to Zhang Lingling and asked eagerly.
Han Dang seized this perfect opportunity to show off in front of his wife and son. Nodding, he answered, "Feng'er's martial soul is the Blazing Heaven Shield. Though it carries the power of crimson flame, its essence is still a shield. That means you'll be walking the path of a defense-type soul master. And for defense-types, turtle-type soul beasts are the most suitable!"
Zhang Lingling disagreed. "Why must it be a turtle? Is my Crimson Flame not strong enough for you?"
Faced with his wife's pointed question, Han Dang wisely chose not to argue. He just gave an awkward smile.
Han Feng, however, furrowed his brows and asked innocently, "Can't we just find a fire-type turtle?"
His casual comment struck a chord with Han Dang. A spark lit up in his eyes. "You've got a sharp mind, kid!"
"Huh?"
Han Feng blinked, puzzled.
Grinning, Han Dang explained, "Seems your luck's come around. A few years ago, when I was getting my fourth soul ring, I ran into a Minotaur Lava Turtle with over 200 years of cultivation. It should be around 300 to 400 years now—perfect for your first soul ring!"
At first, Han Feng felt a little disappointed. After all, the maximum limit for a first soul ring was 423 years. Two hundred years wasn't even half of that.
But once he heard it might be 300 to 400 years, he couldn't help but smile—very satisfied.
Surpassing that limit? Not a chance. He wasn't some chosen child of the gods. His martial soul wasn't the ultimate flame or ice. He didn't have a million-year soul beast sacrificing itself for him. Why would he throw his life away for bragging rights?
Even Tang San, with his powerful spirit and years of refining it through Purple Demon Eye, struggled to absorb a 400-year Mandrake Serpent. Han Feng might have stronger mental power than most, thanks to reincarnation, but he couldn't compare to Tang San physically or spiritually.
Risking death for a slightly stronger soul ring? Not worth it.
Besides, Zhang Lingling was right there watching.
When Han Dang said the turtle had 300 to 400 years of cultivation, Zhang Lingling already looked worried. If Han Feng dared to insist on a 500- or 600-year ring, she'd probably force Han Dang to kneel on the spot and apologize.
They say overprotective mothers raise weak sons—there's some truth to that.
In any case, the strongest soul beasts in the Soul-Hunting Forest near Stan City were only two to three thousand years old. With a Soul Elder and a support-type Soul Exalt, they had little to fear. Before long, they found the Minotaur Lava Turtle.
Turtle-type soul beasts were naturally sedentary, often staying in the same place for years. That's why they could locate it so easily.
When Han Dang saw it, his eyes lit up. He turned to Han Feng and said, "Feng'er! This soul beast has just over 400 years of cultivation. Its defensive capabilities are top-tier among its kind, and its firepower is surprisingly strong for a turtle-type. This is a perfect match for your martial soul!"
The creature lived up to its name. It had the body and shell of a turtle, but with a fierce bull's head—more like a bone mask fused to its face. Crimson flame patterns streaked across its pale white skull, fire burning deep within its eyes—intimidating and terrifying.
It lay in a lava cave, eyes half-open, seemingly asleep. Now would be the perfect time to strike!
Han Feng stared at it, eyes bright with excitement. Suppressing his thrill, he said to Han Dang, "It's perfect. Let's go for it, Dad!"
Seeing his son's resolve, Han Dang was pleased. He had worried the four-hundred-year mark might scare Han Feng off. But clearly, the boy had the courage to match his potential.
"Good!"
With that word, Han Dang vanished from sight. As a Soul Elder, even though he wasn't a speed-type, his movement was beyond Han Feng's comprehension.
He didn't summon his martial soul. He didn't use any soul skills. He simply leapt forward and threw a punch—fast and direct.
No way he'd miss a chance to show off in front of his wife and son!
Especially in front of Han Feng—he wanted to prove that defense-type soul masters could be strong too!
That's how his father—Han Feng's grandfather—had done it.
"ROAR!"
But in the next moment, the Minotaur Lava Turtle suddenly stirred. With a roar like a cross between a lion and a tiger, it revealed its cunning.
Its shell shifted slightly. Three crimson shields unfolded and interlocked in front of it!
Han Dang's face shifted in surprise. "It was pretending to sleep? Not bad—it's got smarts!"