Ever since Han Feng awakened his martial soul, Zhang Lingling's pampering of him only intensified. Perhaps she realized that her son was destined to become a powerful soul master—someone who wouldn't be able to stay by her side much longer. So, she poured what felt like ten years of motherly affection into just a few days.
Naturally, this drove Han Dang nearly mad with jealousy. He almost declared a father-son breakup right then and there!
But Han Dang wasn't without solutions. In a decisive move, he enrolled Han Feng into the city's Primary Soul Master Academy. After all, how could a genius with full innate soul power not receive proper education? His actions were perfectly reasonable… and definitely not just a scheme to enjoy some quality alone time with his wife.
Though a Soul Sect himself, Han Dang was far too busy to tutor his son. As for his wife, while a Soul Emperor, she was a support-type spirit master—hardly the right fit for combat training.
Unfortunately, the academy wouldn't open for another two months. Han Dang had no choice but to endure Zhang Lingling's nonstop motherly obsession a little longer…
Han Feng had once considered applying to Nuoding Academy instead. After all, he'd done his homework over the past six years. Spirit Hall's current pope was Bibi Dong, and the Clear Sky Douluo had gone off the radar six years ago. If the timeline was correct, he and Tang San should be the same age.
Nuoding Academy had adorable Xiao Wu, the theoretical powerhouse Grandmaster, and, of course, the future Sea God Tang San. Why wouldn't he want to tag along?
If his own metaphorical thigh was even half as thick as Tang San's, he wouldn't need to shamelessly cling to someone else's.
Immortal herbs, Sea God trials… none of that happens without Tang San!
But before Han Feng could even bring up this idea, Zhang Lingling shut it down.
The Han family lived in Stant City—not impossibly far from Nuoding, but certainly not close enough for casual trips. Zhang Lingling hadn't even been willing to send her son to Spirit Hall. There was no way she'd let him study in some far-off city where she might only see him once every six months!
And in the Han household, Zhang Lingling was the biggest thigh of all. Han Feng, powerless to win the argument, could only let the idea drop.
Still, as someone with full innate soul power, Han Feng needed to hunt his first spirit ring. With the two-month break before school started, Han Dang and Zhang Lingling took him to Soul Hunting Forest, ready to help him secure his first ring.
Although Han Dang was a defense-type spirit master and Zhang Lingling was a support-type, they were still at the Soul Sect and Soul Emperor levels, respectively. Taking down a 400–500-year-old soul beast was a piece of cake for them—even without using spirit skills. Their raw soul power was more than enough to crush the competition.
It wasn't until they entered the Soul Hunting Forest that Han Feng realized how different reality was from the fanfics he'd read in his previous life—those stories where the protagonist casually killed century-old or even millennia-old soul beasts on sight were pure fantasy.
Even someone as ridiculously overpowered as Tang San had to rely on trickery and precise targeting to take down the Mandala Snake.
Han Feng? He had no hidden techniques, no secret weapons. How was he supposed to fight a soul beast—with hope and optimism?!
In his past life, Han Feng wasn't an assassin or a soldier. The toughest thing he ever did was military training in college. His nerves were above average at best. These soul beasts didn't just look terrifying—they exuded raw killing intent. Even if he had the power, he doubted he'd be able to use it properly under that kind of pressure.
He'd seen fierce-looking soul masters before, but that was nothing like standing in front of a beast radiating bloodlust.
Let's be real—lock a regular guy in a cage with a tiger, and see if he doesn't panic.
Han Feng was twenty in his last life. And even then, when he returned home and saw the village's terrifying goose—a childhood nemesis—he still flinched!
So, Han Feng wisely stuck close to his parents, not wanting to cause trouble.
To Han Dang and Zhang Lingling, this was a sign of rare maturity. Most six-year-olds would be crying or screaming the moment they saw a soul beast, let alone hunting one.
"Dad, what kind of soul beast should I pick for my first spirit ring? "
Han Feng asked, trailing right behind Zhang Lingling with an eager expression.
Han Dang seized the opportunity to show off in front of his wife and child. With a knowing nod, he answered,
"Your martial soul is the Seraphic Flame Shield. While it carries the power of Crimson Flame, at its core, it's still a shield. That means your path lies in becoming a defense-type soul master. For that, turtle-type soul beasts are the most suitable."
Zhang Lingling didn't agree. "Why does it have to be a turtle? Are you saying my Crimson Flame isn't strong enough? "
Faced with his wife's protest, Han Dang wisely avoided arguing. He just gave a sheepish smile and stayed quiet.
Han Feng furrowed his brows and asked innocently,
"Can't we just look for a fire-type turtle then? "
He didn't think much of it—but Han Dang's eyes lit up.
"You clever little rascal! "
"Huh?"
Han Feng blinked, confused.
Grinning, Han Dang explained,
"As it happens, a few years ago while acquiring my fourth ring, I came across a bull-headed lava turtle with over 200 years of cultivation. By now, it should have reached 300–400 years—perfect for your first spirit ring! "
At the mention of 200 years, Han Feng felt a bit disappointed. After all, the limit for a first ring was 423 years. Two hundred was less than half of that.
But when Han Dang said 300 to 400 years, Han Feng lit up with excitement.
He wasn't some chosen child of destiny. His martial soul wasn't Ultimate Fire or Ice. He didn't have a million-year soul beast ready to self-sacrifice. There was no way he'd risk surpassing the year limit just to flex.
Even Tang San, who had been trained from a young age, barely managed to absorb a 400-year-old Mandala Snake. Han Feng's spiritual strength was decent thanks to his reincarnation, but nowhere near Tang San's. Trying to go over the limit? He'd have to be drunk—or suicidal.
Not to mention… Zhang Lingling was right there watching.
If Han Feng had dared say he wanted a 600-year-old soul beast, she'd have made Han Dang drop to his knees in apology.
Overprotective mothers do spoil sons, after all.
The most powerful beasts in the forest near Stant City were only 2,000–3,000 years old. With a Soul Sect and a Soul Emperor escorting him, Han Feng had no problem moving through the forest. Soon, the trio located the Bull-Headed Lava Turtle.
Turtle-type soul beasts were known to be lazy. It wasn't uncommon for one to claim a territory and stay there for years. That's how they managed to find it so easily.
When Han Feng saw the beast, his eyes lit up.
It had the body and shell of a turtle, but its head was replaced by a fierce, bull-like skull—more like a bone mask than a real face. Crimson patterns pulsed across its pale bone face, and flames burned within its eyes, giving off a terrifying aura.
It lay nestled in a cave, eyes open but seemingly asleep. If they struck now, they might be able to defeat it in one blow.
Han Feng clenched his fists in excitement and turned to Han Dang.
"This is the one, Dad! "
Han Dang's eyes glinted with approval. He'd been waiting for Han Feng to make the call. A 400-year beast was right at the limit for a first ring. If Han Feng had hesitated, Han Dang would've accepted it—but seeing his son face it head-on filled him with pride.
"Good!"
The word had barely left his mouth when Han Dang vanished from sight.
Though not an agility type, a Soul Sect's speed was still far beyond Han Feng's comprehension. Han Dang didn't even bother using spirit skills—or even releasing his martial soul. He simply leapt forward and punched at the beast with brute force!
No way he was going to waste a perfect opportunity to show off in front of his wife and kid!
Especially Han Feng—he wanted to prove that defense-type soul masters could be powerful too. After all, his own father (Han Feng's grandfather) had done the same for him.
"ROAR!"
Suddenly, the bull-headed lava turtle moved. It let out a deafening roar—not like a turtle, not like a bull, but something more like a lion or tiger.
Its shell shifted slightly—and three blazing red shields unfolded in front of it!
Han Dang's expression darkened slightly.
"It was feigning sleep? Not bad… it's got intelligence."