The sun had barely begun its climb over the horizon when the tides of Sea God Island shimmered with unusual activity. Silver-winged gulls wheeled overhead, and schools of luminous fish darted near the coral banks, as though the ocean itself had something to celebrate. A quiet, trembling hum hung in the air, barely noticeable—but for those attuned to the sea, it was unmistakable.
Something ancient had stirred.
At the heart of the central shrine, Hai Shen Ling knelt in still meditation. The light of his newly formed second soul ring, a deep violet, pulsed gently around him. His Siren martial soul shimmered behind his back, and beneath its elegant aquatic form coiled the yet-silent silhouette of the Sea God's projection—slumbering, watching, waiting.
His eyes were closed, but his awareness was immense. The sea wasn't something outside of him anymore. It was within. Each wave a breath. Each current a heartbeat.
The courtyard echoed with silence, disturbed only by the gentle rustle of sea breeze against ancient coral columns. Around him stood the Seven Children of the Sea—each a titled Douluo in their own right. Sea Dragon, Sea Horse, Sea Spear, Sea Fantasy, Sea Star, Sea Ghost, and Sea Woman Douluo formed a solemn circle, faces etched with curiosity, respect, and a hint of wary awe.
Bo Saixi stood at the head of the circle. Clad in her flowing sea-blue robes, her gaze never left Shenling. There was something reverent in her expression—as if she were watching not her adopted son, but a prophecy taking shape.
"He is ready," she said, her voice carrying across the shrine. "Let him show us the path he walks."
Sea Star Douluo stepped forward first. "Hai Shen Ling," he called. "Reveal the power of your soul. Let the sea speak through you."
Shenling inhaled deeply, then stood. A quiet hush rippled outward, the sea seemingly holding its breath.
His first step echoed—not on stone, but in spirit. With a motion as fluid as the tide, he raised his hand and activated his first soul ring.
"First Soul Skill—Siren Echo."
A haunting note filled the air, weaving through the shrine like a living thread. The water surrounding the courtyard shimmered, vibrating in rhythm. The Seven Sea Douluo stiffened—not because of danger, but the depth of the sound. It resonated with something beyond hearing. For a moment, each of them saw glimpses—memories that weren't theirs. Old regrets. Long-forgotten songs. Faces beneath waves.
Sea Fantasy Douluo narrowed her eyes, whispering, "That sound… it tears through illusion, yet is an illusion itself."
Sea Ghost Douluo whispered hoarsely, "That was... grief. Ancient grief."
Before they could recover, Shenling spun lightly on his heel, raising his second hand.
"Second Soul Skill—Soul Lure Mirage!"
Dozens of phantom Shenlings shimmered into being across the courtyard. Each moved in perfect sync, each radiating the same soul pressure. Even the Seven Douluo took half-steps backward. The illusions glided like living reflections on water, indistinguishable from reality.
Sea Spear Douluo narrowed his eyes. "He mirrors himself with such precision... even I cannot tell which is real."
Sea Dragon Douluo's tone was more serious. "He's not simply recreating his body. He's recreating his soul signature. That should be impossible at his level."
But Shenling was not done. Not even close.
The air shimmered once more.
His third soul ring began to glow.
The violet light deepened into a swirling maelstrom of color. He raised both arms, and the Siren's form behind him unfurled its ethereal wings. A whisper coursed through the shrine, not from Shenling, but the spirit of the Siren itself.
"Third Soul Skill—Abyssal Aria!"
A wave of sound cascaded outward—not like the gentle song of Siren Echo, nor the disorienting allure of Soul Lure Mirage. This was a command. The aria resonated with soul force itself, disrupting control over spirit energy in a wide area. All seven Douluo felt a momentary tremor in their core, as if their soul power had been struck by an unseen force.
Sea Horse Douluo gasped. "My spiritual flow… it staggered!"
Sea Ghost Douluo shuddered. "This… could suppress a battlefield."
Sea Woman Douluo's eyes widened. "It's not just suppression. That song can unify soul threads or unravel them. This child could one day rewrite how spirit masters fight."
Abyssal Aria wove tones of dominance and reverence. It did not crush through power—but bent wills through resonance. The very sea outside the courtyard shifted inward, drawing closer to Shenling's presence.
Then, silence. Thick, reverent silence.
He stepped forward. No words. No gesture.
He sang.
Not to attack. Not to demonstrate. Not even to teach.
This was Voice of the Abyss—his innate soul skill, awakened the day he first heard the sea's whisper.
No light burst from his body. No visible energy rippled forth.
And yet, the shrine fell utterly silent.
The waves beyond its borders stilled. The gulls ceased their cries.
A deep, oceanic tone whispered into their bones.
Tears slid down Sea Woman Douluo's cheeks. Sea Ghost Douluo looked away, jaw trembling.
They heard not just Shenling. They heard themselves—buried memories of loved ones lost to the sea, regrets they had locked away, promises made beneath moonlight tides. It was as if the ocean remembered all things—and lent that memory to Shenling's voice.
Bo Saixi stepped closer, hand pressed to her chest.
Her voice broke. "This... is the ocean's grief."
When the sound faded, Shenling collapsed to one knee, chest heaving. Sweat glistened across his brow.
No one moved.
No one could speak.
Bo Saixi approached slowly and knelt beside him. Her hands cupped his cheeks with maternal care.
"You sang not only to us," she whispered. "You sang to the ocean's memory."
Her tears fell onto his skin.
She turned to the Seven Douluo. "You see now. He is no mere child of the sea. He is its echo. Its will."
And one by one, the Seven Douluo stepped forward. Each knelt before Shenling—not as his equals, but as servants of the same tide. They lowered their heads in solemn acknowledgment.
Sea Dragon Douluo murmured, "The sea has chosen... and we shall follow."
Sea Spear Douluo added, "Let him walk the path. We will carve it with him."
Sea Ghost Douluo said nothing—but his eyes met Shenling's with wordless reverence.
Bo Saixi finally stood, drawing her son to his feet. "Hai Shen Ling," she declared, her voice echoing across the shrine, "from this day forward, let it be known: the ocean no longer waits. It walks again in you."
The sea, in its eternal vastness, had chosen.
And Hai Shen Ling—child abandoned by fate, raised by the sea, and embraced by the abyss—had begun to rise.