Silence settled into the sacred cavern like a thick blanket. The glow of Shenling's spirit rings dimmed, yet a quiet pressure lingered in the air, pulsing faintly from the boy's chest.
He sat cross-legged in the shallow pool now, drenched and trembling, not from cold or fear—but from awakening.
The Siren and the Sea God no longer hovered around him. They had both receded, their energies tucked away into his spirit sea, harmonized. The twin cores of his dual martial soul had accepted each other's presence, and in doing so, they forged something new—something neither entirely divine nor purely mythical. A voice and a vessel. A heart that sang and a will that guided.
Bo Saixi approached him slowly. "Shenling," she whispered.
He looked up at her. His pupils shimmered like sapphire tides, and his voice, when it came, was soft but resonant. "I understand them now. The sea doesn't sing for itself—it sings for those who are lost."
Her breath hitched.
The Seven Sea Douluo arrived behind her, their expressions ranging from awe to disbelief. Even Sea Dragon Douluo, the most stoic among them, looked shaken.
Sea Star Douluo whispered, "His spirit rings... they've stabilized. But what was that third light?"
"There was no third ring," Sea Ghost replied. "But there was... a vibration. As if a soul skill formed from the resonance itself."
Bo Saixi knelt before Shenling. "You've created something new, haven't you?"
"I didn't create it," Shenling said, voice distant. "It was always there. The Siren taught me to listen. The Sea God taught me to guide it. I simply gave it... shape."
A quiet moment passed. Then the water beneath Shenling shimmered and rose around him—not as liquid, but as glowing sound waves. They curved and spiraled upward, dancing like threads of mist.
"It's called... Voice of the Abyss," he said, closing his eyes. "It listens to the emotional state of every enemy within range. It sings their regrets. Their fears. Their doubts. It doesn't harm them—not directly. But it weighs on their soul. It slows their thoughts. Weakens their intent. Makes them remember what they wanted to forget."
Sea Fantasy Douluo stepped forward, shaken. "That's not a normal crowd control skill. That's soul-domain interference."
Sea Woman Douluo nodded. "It's a pressure field woven from emotion."
"A skill given from the Siren Martial Soul," Seahorse Douluo muttered. "An innate skill... and it produces something this advanced?"
"He's not just a dual-souled spirit master," Bo Saixi said, looking to each of her comrades. "He is something else. Something the sea itself is trying to restore."
Sea Spear Douluo crossed his arms. "And he still has a long path to walk. But this ability... it's worthy of legends."
"Indeed," Sea Dragon Douluo murmured. "It must be recorded in the Temple Archives."
Bo Saixi turned to Shenling. "Show it to us. Let us see what the sea has taught you."
Shenling nodded and stood, stepping back into the center of the pool. His arms rose.
He inhaled deeply.
Then he sang.
No words. No melody. Just pure tone. It began soft—a vibration that tickled at the edge of perception. Then it grew. Waves shimmered outward from his feet, distorting light and sound. The Douluo around him shifted uncomfortably as memories began to surface—some pleasant, some sorrowful, some they hadn't felt in decades.
Sea Ghost Douluo flinched. "I can... see her... my sister... when she died..."
Sea Star Douluo gritted his teeth. "Stop... it's like the sea is remembering me..."
Bo Saixi watched quietly. Her own mind remained still—not because she resisted the song, but because she welcomed it. Let it pass through her. Let it stir old pain and wisdom alike.
Then it ended.
The ripples died.
And all that remained was silence again.
Bo Saixi knelt again. "Shenling. That power—it can change battles. But it can also break a soul that isn't ready. Do you understand what you carry?"
He lowered his gaze. "I didn't, before. But now I know. This voice isn't meant to destroy. It's meant to remind. To bring people back to who they were. Even if it hurts."
She smiled softly and opened her arms. He stepped forward and embraced her, and for a long moment, teacher and child, priestess and son, held each other beneath the glow of spirit light.
When the echoes faded into silence, a new kind of stillness descended upon the sacred cavern—a stillness that bore not emptiness but expectation. The very stones seemed to hold their breath, and the Sea Douluo—seven of the ocean's most revered protectors—stood motionless, all eyes locked on the boy in the water.
Hai Shen Ling sat quietly now, as though the storm within him had passed. The residue of immense spiritual energy lingered in the air, thick like mist after rain. But he did not seem spent—he seemed calm. Serene. As if he were merely a reflection returned to its rightful surface.
Bo Saixi stepped forward. Her silver eyes shimmered beneath the glow of the cavern's ethereal light.
"You've undergone a transformation," she said softly. "But we still haven't measured your growth. That power you displayed—it didn't just resonate with your martial soul. It reshaped the spiritual domain of this entire place."
Her gaze turned to Seahorse Douluo. "Let us see the truth."
Seahorse Douluo gave a nod and drew a crystal orb from within his robe. It was transparent, cut into the shape of a teardrop, and glimmered with runes etched from ancient coral and silver. This was not a common soul measurement tool—it was the Sea God Temple's ceremonial spirit crystal, said to reveal not only the level of power but the purity and type of energy cultivated.
"Shenling," he said gently, "place your hand on the orb."
The boy nodded. His small hand, still damp with seawater, rose and hovered over the crystal. As it touched the surface, a vibration rippled through the entire chamber.
Immediately, the orb ignited.
It didn't glow gently or pulse with steady rhythm as it typically would. It exploded with a radiant torrent of deep ocean blue, cascading into hues of silver and pearl. Symbols rotated within it like stars being born, swirling faster and faster as if the orb could barely contain what it had just been asked to measure.
Gasps echoed from every corner of the cavern.
Sea Star Douluo took a step back. "That's not... that's not a normal reading."
Seahorse Douluo's expression turned grave as he studied the rapidly evolving display. His voice, when he spoke, shook with disbelief. "It's Rank... Rank 30."
Bo Saixi's eyes narrowed. "Say that again."
"Rank 30," Seahorse repeated. "Just one month after awakening."
Stunned silence. Then—
"That's impossible!" Sea Spear Douluo barked. "Even a prodigy from Spirit Hall takes at least a year or more to break Rank 20! And that's with precious resources!"
"Has he consumed spirit herbs? Forbidden energy catalysts?" Sea Ghost asked, already knowing the answer.
Bo Saixi answered instead. "He's taken nothing except our guidance, his own cultivation, and the gifts of the sea."
Sea Dragon Douluo's brows furrowed deeply. "Then how...?"
Sea Woman Douluo stepped forward. "It's not the amount of power alone. Look at the resonance—the sea accepted him wholly. It didn't resist his spirit ring absorption. It enhanced it."
"He isn't drawing power from the ocean," Sea Fantasy Douluo added. "The ocean is amplifying what's already within him. It's as if he was born... in rhythm."
Shenling lowered his hand, the orb dimming to stillness.
"Does this mean I'm ready for my third ring?" he asked, looking up.
Bo Saixi knelt before him, her eyes gentle. "Yes. And much sooner than any of us expected."
He blinked. "Then... what comes next?"
The high priestess exhaled slowly. "Now, we must choose your path. But you will not walk it alone." She turned to the gathered Douluo. "Each of us will help guide your future. Your next spirit ring must match the path of your soul. That means careful selection—both of beast and place."
Sea Ghost Douluo nodded. "He needs a second ring for the Siren martial soul. It must harmonize with Voice of the Abyss, or risk destabilizing it."
"We'll consult the spirit beast records," Sea Star offered. "Some deep-sea creatures have melodies etched into their biology—creatures born not of fang and claw, but of vibration and mental resonance."
"I know one," Sea Woman Douluo said quietly. "In the Abyssal Reefs. A Thousand-Year Abyssal Kelpie. It sings in the currents, unseen, feeding on thoughts instead of flesh."
Bo Saixi nodded. "We'll begin preparations."
Shenling, overwhelmed but quiet, stared into the still water.
"I thought becoming stronger would make things easier," he whispered.
Bo Saixi reached for his shoulder. "Becoming stronger gives you more to protect. That is never easy. But you will not face it alone."
For a moment, it felt as though the sea itself exhaled.
From this point onward, Shenling's path would not merely be one of survival or mastery.
It would be one of remembrance—of voice and silence, of sorrow and song.
And the sea would remember his name.