A/N: I will be gone from home in the sea for fishing for 5-6 days so I put this episode up early so you guys wont need to wait awakening for a week. past awakening arc continues after my small holiday
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The Hall of Awakening stood at the heart of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan's inner compound. It was a circular chamber carved from white jade, tall enough to swallow a spirit beast whole, its domed ceiling painted with gold-leaf constellations and ornamental glasswork that caught the light like frozen stars. Pillars of polished marble formed a wide ring around the chamber, each carved with the emblems of the clan's history. At the center stood the soul awakening platform, a raised disk of obsidian inlaid with silver, upon which rested the traditional Awakening Stones — glowing faintly with dormant power.
Today, for the first time in living memory, the Hall of Awakening welcomed not just the main clan's children, but also those from the branches, the outer disciples—and most unusually, the orphans.
"Why are the orphans going first?" whispered one clan child.
"Because the main branch always goes last," came the reply.
Li Xian stood calmly among the gathered orphans, robes plain but clean. Beside him, Ning Fu was jittering in place like an overheated kettle.
Bone Douluo stepped forward, his aged face serene. Despite his title, there was a kindness in his bearing, a quiet dignity that settled the nervous.
"Come," he said. "One at a time."
The Orphan Awakening
One by one, the children stepped into the circle. Light shimmered, flickered, and dimmed. A tool spirit here — a broken rake. A beast spirit there — a nervous rabbit with one ear flopped sideways. Innate spirit power ranged from two to four. Murmurs of pity floated through the hall.
Then came Ning Fu.
He stepped forward, determined, eyes fixed ahead.
The spirit light enveloped him. At first, silence. Then a piercing note rang out — sharp, clean, final. A silver blade shimmered into existence above his hand, long and straight, its edge humming with power.
Gasps echoed.
"That... that's the Seven Kill Sword!"
Bone Douluo's brow lifted.
A glowing crystal floated from his palm and settled in Fu's hand.
It blazed. Innate Spirit Power: 7.
Sword Douluo, seated in the elder's pavilion, gave a rare blink. "Hoh."
Bone Douluo chuckled. "You don't know this one, old friend? For a moment, I thought you'd snuck off and adopted."
Sword Douluo snorted. "Please. I am a man of sword and solitude. My path is pure."
Ning Fengzhi snorted. "Pure as cold steel and twice as lonely."
Li Xian's Turn
When Li Xian stepped onto the platform, the atmosphere changed. Not with grandeur, but with stillness.
Bone Douluo watched him more closely.
Li Xian took a silent breath and centered himself. Deep within, he felt it stir — the second martial soul. A tool-type, heavy with the laws of space, gravity, and time. It pulsed with power, foreign and vast. But with will honed through countless meditations, he chained it, bound it, and sealed it within his consciousness. He had no intention of revealing that to the clan. Not yet. Not even a flicker.
Instead, he let them see only the soul that could not be suppressed: his eye martial soul, classified as a body-type soul, manifesting in his eyes themselves — a refined perception system that altered his entire awareness.
The spirit array flared.
Light coiled around him like silk drawn through water. Then, his body shimmered subtly. Muscles tightened. Bones settled. A soft pulse spread outward.
"A body-type martial soul?" murmured one elder. "But... which body part?"
"The eyes," Bone Douluo said slowly. "I can feel it."
The pressure was subtle, but present. Then Li Xian's eyes flared — and for a moment, the light refracted strangely. Several elders later claimed they saw the shimmer of a six-fold pattern in the air, like divine lenses gazing beyond sight itself. A few even felt as though they were being watched.
Then it passed. All they saw was the boy, standing calm and steady, his presence sharp as a drawn blade.
The crystal was brought out.
It ignited in Li Xian's palm.
Innate Spirit Power: 10.
A collective breath was drawn. Then released.
Commotion stirred again.
One branch elder whispered, "A level ten with a rare eye-type body soul? Who is this child?"
Sword Douluo crossed his arms. "An eye martial soul. Do we know what they do?"
Li Xian hesitated, then bowed slightly. "May I speak?"
Ning Fengzhi gestured. "Go on."
Li Xian's voice was calm, but his nose had begun to bleed slightly.
"These eyes… they perceive everything. Constantly. I see through lies. I can track every movement in the room. I feel the flow of spirit power — the smallest change, the faintest intent. I hear your heartbeats. I see the micro-expressions you don't even know you're making."
His breath caught. A flash of pain passed through his head.
"It's overwhelming. The information comes in all at once, from every direction. But I can sense its potential. With time and cultivation, the burden will lessen."
The hall was deathly quiet.
Bone Douluo gave a thoughtful nod. "An advanced perception system. Six-fold, if I'm guessing right. Divine in origin, perhaps. Spiritual strain at first awakening isn't unheard of in rare cases. But if what he says holds true..."
Another elder murmured, "To perceive lies and intent — dangerous. Rare. But what a tool for battle... or diplomacy."
Ning Fengzhi slowly descended the pavilion steps, eyes fixed on Li Xian. "Who are your parents, boy?"
Li Xian bowed. "I do not know. I was raised in the clan orphanage."
A soft scoff cut through the silence. Ning Rongrong stood among the main clan children, arms crossed, chin slightly raised.
"Of course Father would want someone like that. Full innate power, mysterious background. Probably just wants to show off."
Her tone was casual, but her gaze lingered a second too long — a flicker of envy beneath her cool mask.
Bone Douluo's lips twitched.
"Rongrong," Fengzhi said without looking at her, "if I adopted every child with full innate power, I'd have to build a second clan."
"Hmph," she muttered, turning her head away with feigned indifference.
Ning Fengzhi turned back to Li Xian. "I accept you. You'll become my disciple from this day forward."
Sword Douluo muttered, "Taking in strays again?"
"Stray? He's a titled Douluo in the making. One with divine eyes. Which, I remind you, see things."
Bone Douluo smiled faintly. "You're just excited he might finally beat Rongrong in chess."
The Rest of the Ceremony
As the remaining children took their turns, the atmosphere grew lighter. A few possessed decent martial souls, but none stirred awe like before. Elders murmured, chatted, and passed quiet judgments.
Off to the side, Sword Douluo, Bone Douluo, Ning Fengzhi, Li Xian, Ning Fu, and Rongrong waited near the pavilion as preparations were made for her turn.
"So," Bone Douluo began, glancing at Sword Douluo with a crooked grin, "Still denying the child with the sword isn't yours?"
Sword Douluo gave him a look as if he'd been insulted. "I am a man of discipline and solitude. I do not pursue distractions. My heart belongs to the sword."
Ning Fu whispered to Li Xian, "He talks about the sword more than I talk about food."
Li Xian chuckled softly. "Then you might be doomed."
Ning Rongrong, arms crossed and one eyebrow lifted, turned her gaze toward Li Xian. "Just because Father took you as a disciple doesn't mean you're special," she said, voice slightly sharp, though her posture remained carefully neutral.
Li Xian blinked at her with no emotion. "I never claimed to be."
Bone Douluo smirked. "She's testing you."
Ning Fengzhi folded his arms, amused. "Don't mind her. My daughter has the pride of ten phoenixes and the patience of a sparrow."
Sword Douluo added blandly, "And a voice like a blade being unsheathed."
"I heard that!" Rongrong snapped, cheeks coloring faintly.
Fu grinned. "She's scary."
Then, a bell chimed — clear and resonant, like crystalline wind chimes under a moonlit sky. A hush fell across the chamber as all eyes turned toward the center. This was the final call — the awakening of the clan's princess. Expectations whispered through the marble pillars like wind through leaves.
"She's the jewel of the main branch," murmured one elder.
"Her demeanor, her poise — flawless."
"And her beauty... a mirror of her late mother."
Sword Douluo stood a little straighter, arms folded behind his back. Bone Douluo's eyes softened, fond and expectant.
Ning Fengzhi, standing proud and composed, whispered under his breath, "Show them, Rongrong. Let them see your light."
From a corner, another elder murmured, "Nine Treasure Pagoda... perhaps it will appear again. We haven't seen one born to the main line in two generations."
Then, she stepped forward.
"Final awakening," Bone Douluo announced.
Everyone turned.
It was her time.
Ning Rongrong
She stepped into the ring like a flower blooming — silks brushing the floor, her forehead marked with the clan's jade sigil. Her poise was flawless, the epitome of clan-bred grace. Even the elders leaned forward, captivated not just by power, but by presence.
But as she reached the center, her hand trembled — a flicker, barely perceptible. She clasped it quickly behind her back, stealing a breath. No one else could fail here. Not her. Not the daughter of Ning Fengzhi. Her chin rose, the only sign of the war beneath her skin.
The spirit array responded slowly at first, as if weighing her worth.
Then it surged.
Light enveloped her, radiant and calm — but threaded with a pulse like a heartbeat, sharp and fierce.
Above her head, a delicate pagoda appeared, seven stories tall, shining with brilliance.
"The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Pagoda!"
Gasps followed. Then thunderous applause. Some elders stood. Others bowed their heads in solemn acknowledgment.
"Innate Spirit Power: 9," murmured Bone Douluo, pride tugging at his voice.
"As expected of my daughter," Ning Fengzhi said with gentle satisfaction.
Sword Douluo nodded once. "She will surpass even you, old friend."
"Let her try," Fengzhi replied, smiling.
A subtle shimmer lingered in the air, a resonance that vibrated deeper than mere power — a reflection of lineage, ambition, and latent potential. Yet something in her shoulders remained tight, as though even perfection carried weight.
Li Xian watched, unreadable. His eyes — his real ones — traced the glow with quiet thought.
He understood then: he was not the only one fate watched closely. The girl who had scoffed at him now stood as a miracle in her own right — and for all her barbs, she was dazzling.
Aftermath
In the private antechamber, Ning Fengzhi looked between the two boys.
"The clan rarely takes direct disciples from the orphanage. But today..."
He turned to Li Xian. "You will follow me."
Then to Fu, grinning. "And you, apparently, belong to the sword now."
Fu blinked. "I what?"
Sword Douluo grunted. "You carry the blade. I'll see if you're worthy of its name."
Fu's eyes went wide. Then wider. He grabbed Li Xian's arm and squeaked, "Xian-ge! I think I just got adopted by a living sword statue!"
Li Xian only smiled faintly, though a flicker of warmth passed through his eyes.
As the elders quietly left the hall, Bone Douluo leaned closer to Ning Fengzhi.
"Two rare awakenings in a single ceremony. You do realize what this will mean, don't you?"
Fengzhi's smile faded. "The other clans will start asking questions. Pressure will come. And not just from rivals — even the Empire and the Spirit Hall might take an interest."
Bone Douluo's voice dropped. "We must prepare."
Fengzhi looked toward the chamber doors, where Li Xian and Ning Fu waited side by side.
"We will."
The path had opened.
And they were no longer just orphans.
They were disciples of the clan.
And the world would begin to take notice.
But in that moment, beneath the vaulted jade ceiling, two boys who once shared scraps and stories by lanternlight stood at the edge of destiny — no longer forgotten.