With a savage roar, Han Feng's aura suddenly changed!
Just a moment ago, he had been beaming with pride, acting mysterious. The next, he was shrouded in a violent, feral energy—like a wild beast unleashed from its cage, ready to devour anything in its path.
Han Dang and Zhang Lingling were both stunned.
They could sense it—Han Feng's strength had surged. Empowered by his first soul ring, his soul power had increased by more than 80%, and his physical strength had risen as well. But the figure before them, cloaked in a dark crimson mist… was this really their beloved son?
That roar—it might've carried a trace of humanity, but it was unmistakably the call of the Minotaur Lava Turtle.
Alarmed, both Han Dang and Zhang Lingling summoned their martial souls, tense and ready to act.
As the powerful soul energies of a Soul Elder and a Soul Exalt surged forth, the crimson mist-wrapped figure visibly flinched. The energy quickly receded, and a young voice cried out:
"Dad! Mom! Don't attack—it's me! It's me!"
The dense mist slowly dissipated, revealing Han Feng's small figure once more. But he was clearly different. Atop his head sat a large, bone-crafted mask shaped like a bull's head. Two twisted, sharpened horns jutted forward. Dark crimson markings extended from the mask's eye sockets down to his jaw, and in those hollow, glowing eyes gleamed a faint, chilling light. While not identical to the Minotaur Lava Turtle, the resemblance was undeniable.
Zhang Lingling didn't care about the terrifying mask—she rushed forward and hugged him.
"Feng'er?"
Han Feng nodded. His expression was unreadable behind the bone mask, but his voice was steady.
"It's me."
Seeing that he was lucid, Zhang Lingling let out a long breath of relief.
Han Dang, however, had noticed something deeper. His tone turned serious.
"Feng'er, this… what is it?"
"An external soul bone! It's a facial bone from the Minotaur Lava Turtle—it increases both soul power and strength by 30%!"
Though he had suspected it, hearing Han Feng say it aloud sent a jolt through Han Dang's entire body.
An external soul bone.
To a soul master, it ranked just beneath a 100,000-year soul ring in value—one of the most coveted treasures in the world!
Han Feng, noticing his father frozen in place, assumed he was unimpressed by the modest 30% boost. He quickly added:
"It's only 30% now, but it's an external soul bone—it'll grow with me! At level 20, it'll be 40%, at level 30, 50%, and so on. It increases by 1% every ten levels!"
He wasn't exaggerating. Since obtaining the bone, Han Feng had learned that its power scaled with his growth.
He thought this explanation would earn praise—but to his surprise, Han Dang's face didn't lighten. Instead, it grew more grave. He looked Han Feng in the eye, and in a low, commanding tone, said:
"Feng'er. From this moment on, unless your life is at stake—or you possess overwhelming power—you must never reveal the existence of this soul bone to anyone. Understand?"
There wasn't even a trace of jest in Han Dang's voice. A subtle pressure, the weight of a Soul Elder's authority, descended upon Han Feng, making his pupils constrict.
He realized, suddenly, that he'd been far too reckless.
Just days ago, he'd criticized his father for potentially exposing his secret about a second martial soul. Yet here he was, doing the exact same thing. Blinded by the thrill of discovery, he'd rushed to show off—like a child who'd found buried treasure.
If Han Dang and Zhang Lingling weren't his parents, and this moment had occurred before strangers… he might already be a corpse.
The pride drained from his face, replaced by shame.
So much for being a reborn genius—this was a rookie mistake.
"Did you hear me?"
Han Dang's voice grew sharper, cutting through his thoughts like a blade.
Even Zhang Lingling, who usually coddled her son, said nothing to defend him. She knew what this meant: this bone represented talent, power, fate—and potentially, bloodshed.
Snapping out of it, Han Feng nodded earnestly.
"I understand!"
This was probably the first time in six years that Han Dang had spoken to him so harshly.
Han Dang looked at him for a long moment before sighing and relaxing his stance. The external soul bone was a divine gift—refusing it would be foolish. He hadn't meant to crush Han Feng's spirit. He just didn't want the boy parading around with a glowing bull's head and getting himself killed.
Han Feng glanced at his father with a strange expression.
He'd always thought of Han Dang as a bit of a show-off. But now… he wasn't so sure. At least when it came to serious matters, his father was clearly more level-headed than he was.
It was he, Han Feng, who'd been small-minded.
"From your tone earlier… this soul bone does more than just enhance your strength. What else can it do?"
Han Dang's tone had softened again, his curiosity returning.
Han Feng chuckled mischievously. Just thinking about the other ability filled him with excitement. He leapt from Zhang Lingling's arms and bounded over to an ancient tree with a trunk thick enough for two adults to embrace.
"Watch closely!"
His voice dropped, becoming deep and raspy. Slowly turning his head toward the tree, he growled:
"I call this move… King Hollow's Flash!"
ROAR! ROOOOAR!
BOOM!
The roar returned, and from between the horns atop Han Feng's head, a searing crimson light burst forth, slicing through the air and slamming into the tree.
With an explosive crack, a gaping hole—roughly the size of a human head—appeared in the center of the trunk.
The edges of the hole were perfectly smooth. If not for the charred wood inside, one might think it had been carved by a blade.
Zhang Lingling and Han Dang were stunned.
This kind of destructive power… even a two-ring assault-type Soul Grandmaster might not be able to do better!
More shockingly—this move, King Hollow's Flash, had no charge time. It was instant-cast.
For a defensive-type battle soul master to wield such an offensive skill? It was priceless. Even if someone offered a 10,000-year external soul bone in exchange, it wouldn't be worth it.
What they didn't know was—Han Feng wasn't entirely satisfied.
"Tsk… feels a bit underwhelming. The name 'King Hollow's Flash' might be too much. Maybe I should just call it… Hollow Flash?"
While Han Feng was off in his own world, Han Dang swallowed hard and asked in awe:
"Feng'er… what's the name of this soul bone?"
Han Feng paused, then replied with confidence:
"The Mask of Hollow."
Han Dang blinked. The name felt off—it didn't match the Minotaur Lava Turtle at all. Even the soul skills seemed unrelated. But it was his son's soul bone. So despite his confusion, he simply nodded and added a reminder:
"External soul bones inspire envy. I know you're clever—don't go waving this around to impress people."
Han Feng nodded quickly, feeling a bit guilty—not because of the praise, but because of that flicker of suspicion in his father's eyes.
In truth, this soul bone wasn't actually called "The Mask of Hollow." And those soul skills? "Hollow Flash" and "King Hollow's Flash"? Total fabrications.
"Phase Out" wasn't even a soul skill—it was just a passive effect of the bone.
The real name of the skill was something more mundane—Molten Fireline.
Han Feng had renamed everything purely out of his own... anime-inspired flair.
Honestly, if his martial soul had been a sword instead of a shield, he probably would've named his first soul skill Getsuga Tenshō.