The following morning was gray and breathless. Storm clouds hovered low over Sea God Island, refusing to break, as if the heavens themselves feared what might be uncovered below.
Hai Shen Ling stood once again in the Hall of Tides, flanked by Bo Saixi and the Seven Children of the Sea God. Before them, spread across the mosaic floor of the temple, lay a vast map of the ocean floor. It shimmered faintly with soul energy—lines of power pulsing across trenches, caverns, and lost vaults.
Bo Saixi knelt beside it and traced a path from the Siren Cathedral outward, toward an ancient trench known only in whispers: The Grave of Tides.
"What lies there," she said softly, "predates our oldest records. We know only that it was once the boundary of the Sirens' dominion... before it was torn away."
Sea Ghost Douluo added, "Some say it's where the sea buries the memories it wishes to forget."
Shen Ling stepped forward. The markings glowed beneath his feet. His soul rings hummed—each one resonating faintly as if reacting to the name alone.
He closed his eyes. A whisper tickled the edge of his mind—Return us.
"We have to go there," he said, opening his eyes. "That place... it's calling."
Bo Saixi nodded. "Then we sail with the dawn."
The tides shifted.
And in the deep, something awoke.
By dawn, a fleet of sea-gliders and enchanted barges gathered beneath the eastern cliffs of Sea God Island. Their sails shimmered like fish scales, enchanted with warding runes drawn from the Sea God's scriptures. The wind moved with purpose—more guiding than resisting—as if the sea herself prepared the path.
Bo Saixi, cloaked in ocean-blue silks lined with pearls, stood at the helm of the lead vessel. Beside her, Shen Ling adjusted the golden clasp of his cloak, his seaweed-black hair pulled back and damp with salt mist. Around them, the Seven Children of the Sea God moved with military precision, though even they couldn't mask the tension.
Sea Dragon Douluo leaned on the rail. "We're heading into depths uncharted by even our soul sense. You should stay behind, boy."
"No," Shen Ling said firmly. "If the Sirens' memories lie there, then so do mine. I have to see it through."
Sea Star Douluo offered a half-smile. "Stubborn. You really are Bo Saixi's child."
The ships glided into open waters. As they passed the final reef line of the island's magical perimeter, a shift occurred. The temperature dropped. The currents stilled. The color of the water deepened to obsidian.
From the ship's edge, Shen Ling stared into the abyssal blue.
And the abyss sang back.
The Voice of the Abyss stirred, soul energy rippling outward like sonar. It didn't echo—it connected.
Bo Saixi noticed. "You feel something?"
"Yes," he said. "There's a path. It's not shown on any map, but it's there. Below us."
Sea Fantasy Douluo stepped forward. "Guide us. With your power."
Shen Ling nodded. He closed his eyes and activated Song of Aeloria. A haunting melody spilled from his lips, echoing over the waves. It curled downward, finding passage among ancient sea channels.
Then—response. A glow from below.
An ancient sigil.
The ships veered, pulled not by rudder or sail, but by the current shaped from Shen Ling's soul song.
Hours passed in suspended silence.
Then, rising from the depths, towers of coral and shattered shell appeared like ghostly silhouettes. They reached toward the surface—remnants of what once must have been a siren city.
"Behold..." whispered Sea Woman Douluo. "The Grave of Tides."
It was not just a grave.
It was a battlefield.
Skeletons of creatures both human and divine littered the ocean floor. Spears of crystallized sound jutted from the sand. Sea glass and fragments of shattered instruments shimmered like cursed relics.
Shen Ling descended with Bo Saixi and two others—Sea Ghost and Sea Star—wrapped in air bubbles conjured by layered water and wind techniques.
As his foot touched the sea floor, his spirit rings activated spontaneously.
Siren's Echo rippled.
Soul Lure Mirage sparked, forming fleeting images of Sirens mid-song.
Song of the Abyssal Trial pulsed with judgment.
But the one that responded most strongly was Voice of the Abyss. It vibrated—no longer just a skill, but an invocation.
In the distance, a dome of bone and pearl called to them.
The Sirens' final vault.
Their destination.
And what lay within would rewrite everything.
The dome was massive—carved from mother-of-pearl and bone-white coral, pulsing faintly with ancient song energy. Spiraled etchings covered its surface, indistinct to the eye yet humming melodies that Shen Ling could almost decipher. His footsteps slowed as they approached, the waters heavy with reverence.
Bo Saixi's voice dropped to a whisper. "We stand at the doorstep of their grave... or perhaps their sanctuary."
Sea Ghost Douluo extended his hand. A glyph flared to life on the dome's gate, casting reflections over their faces like passing spirits. "This isn't sealed by force. It's sealed by grief."
Shen Ling stepped forward, his voice rising into a tentative, resonant note—an invocation drawn from his soul skill Voice of the Abyss. The waters parted gently, and the gate responded not with resistance, but with lament.
The door creaked open.
Inside, silence reigned. It was the silence of mourning, of memory held too long beneath the tide.
They entered a vast chamber where ghostly forms—echoes of Sirens—floated in stasis. Each one held an instrument, frozen in the moment their final note had been sung. Walls of shell reflected not their images, but their dreams. In this hall of echoes, time did not pass.
Suddenly, Shen Ling's spirit rings shone.
Siren's Echo activated involuntarily. His body was caught in its melody, moving to a rhythm older than memory.
Then, from the heart of the chamber, something stirred. A pedestal of coral and obsidian rose, revealing an orb of liquid sound—the Sirens' Final Song.
Bo Saixi gasped. "That... that is the origin of their power."
"It's not just a soul artifact," Sea Star Douluo said breathlessly. "It's the echo of an entire civilization."
Shen Ling approached.
The orb pulsed to his presence, and in its light, a voice resounded through the water. Not loud, but absolute:
You carry our sorrow. Will you carry our hope?
He placed his hand on the orb.
It dissolved into light, wrapping around him, entering his core.
A new soul skill was born.
Forth Soul Skill: Elegy of the Drowned Crown
A requiem that empowers allies and weakens enemies through overlapping layers of emotional resonance—guilt, grief, glory. Its strength would rise with the depth of the user's conviction, binding all who heard it to the truths they most refused to face.
As the Sirens' echoes faded, the chamber dimmed.
The vault had given its last memory.
And now, the burden of remembrance was his alone.
Bo Saixi stepped beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "They chose you. Not because you could fight... but because you could feel."
He did not speak.
The song had not ended.
It had only moved into him.
As the chamber dimmed and the last echo faded into Shen Ling's soul, the oppressive silence broke with a soft, resonant hum—one that came not from the sea, but from within him.
His soul rings glowed brightly, not in chaos, but in orchestration. One by one, they pulsed in tandem: three glowing spirit rings, and two inner pulses of power—Voice of the Abyss and Song of Aeloria, the twin soul skills granted by the sea's communion.
Bo Saixi and the Seven Titled Douluo encircled him as a glowing pillar of soul energy shot upward and pierced the vault's ceiling like a silent beacon.
Sea Dragon Douluo frowned. "That surge... I haven't felt a soul power breakthrough like this in decades."
Sea Woman Douluo inhaled sharply. "Is it possible…? Has he advanced again?"
Bo Saixi extended her hand, placing two fingers against Shen Ling's wrist, measuring his spiritual energy. Her eyes widened.
"Level 40," she whispered. "He's already at Soul Ancestor level. And it's only been a little over a month since his awakening."
Gasps rose from the others.
Sea Star Douluo murmured, "He's not just growing... he's resonating. Like his soul is being tuned by the ocean itself."
Shen Ling stood quietly, the glow around him slowly fading. His expression was calm—not triumphant, but centered, as if the milestone had arrived not as a prize, but as an inevitability.
"I didn't push," he said softly. "It just... kept flowing. The ocean gives without warning. And I listen."
Sea Spear Douluo stepped forward. "Then you must be ready for your fourth ring."
Bo Saixi shook her head. "No. Not yet. He must first understand what his path means. His growth is not merely talent—it's inheritance. Every ring he accepts must reflect the soul he carries, not just the strength he needs."
Shen Ling looked down at his hands, still glowing faintly.
Four soul skills:
Siren's Echo
Soul Lure Mirage
Song of the Abyssal Trial
Elegy of the Drowned Crown
Plus the innate awakenings:
Voice of the Abyss
Song of Aeloria
Each one etched a different part of the sea's memory into his spirit.
Now at level 40, he had not only reached the rank of Soul Ancestor in an impossible timeframe, but had become the bearer of more soul resonance than any child his age in the history of the sea.
Bo Saixi stepped forward and touched his forehead. "Your trial has not begun. But the sea is watching. The waves remember. And they will test you in their own time."
Shen Ling bowed his head.
"I am ready."
The silence that followed wasn't empty.
It was a breath before the tide.