Chapter Two: Venomous Martial Spirit

Although Yan Jun was now so old he was nearly at death’s door, in his younger days he too had roamed the continent. While his mind was no longer as keen as it once had been, the experience he had accumulated over the years had endowed him with a discerning eye. The child before him was not only far more robust than those he’d seen awaken before, but there was also a marked difference in his bearing.

Though the boy wore the fine brocade garments of the nobility, Yan Jun could see at a glance that his physique was exceptionally sturdy. His wrists and ankles were thick, his forearms and calves packed with muscle, and his build was well-proportioned, without any awkward overdevelopment—he was in a state of harmonious strength. Clearly, while maintaining a burly frame among his peers, he had also trained explosively for power. This was exceedingly rare for a child who had yet to awaken his martial soul.

With a mop of short, jet-black hair and eyes bright with spirit, the boy stood with a simple posture—yet even in stillness, he exuded none of the delicacy found in the children of noble families. Instead, he possessed the steadiness of a battle soul master, honed by years of training.

Had this boy been placed in the midst of a crowd, Yan Jun might not have noticed him. But with a dozen children behind and the city lord’s son for comparison, the distinction was obvious. Most crucially, where other children were perhaps praying to awaken an exceptional innate soul power, this youth stood brimming with confidence—confident that, for some reason, he would inevitably awaken with extraordinary talent.

Such confidence, on most people, Yan Jun would have dismissed as blind arrogance. But seeing the body clearly forged through years of diligent practice, Yan Jun found himself inclined to believe in the boy’s self-assurance.

He remembered, in his travels across the continent, encountering scions of major sects—those with profound backgrounds, who had trained harshly since childhood. They, too, had eyes like this.

Pretending at maturity and possessing true maturity are worlds apart. Some people are simply born different. Yan Jun had awakened martial souls for decades; he knew this well.

Some reach the heights of the fiftieth rank and become renowned; some, even at the sixtieth rank, remain obscure. There are those of humble birth who rise to prominence, and those born to privilege who accomplish nothing. With equal background and talent, the same martial soul and power, there are always those who leave others far behind.

Had it been twenty years ago, and he’d met such a child with promising talent, Yan Jun would not have hesitated to take him as a disciple. Even ten years prior, he would have at least made a connection, hoping the boy might one day look after his own descendants.

But now, Yan Jun felt he was simply too old; there was no point in such things. At most, he had another decade or so left to live. Even with full innate soul power, at that age the child would barely reach the rank of Soul Master—a far cry from true maturity. What would it matter to him in the end?

“What is your name, child?” Yan Jun sighed inwardly, keeping his expression calm.

“My name is Chen Ming, of the Jade Chen family.” The boy lifted his head, a gentle smile upon his face, and spoke his name to Yan Jun.

“The Chen family… Come, awaken your martial soul,” Yan Jun murmured, pausing briefly as if recalling something, but said nothing more and motioned for Chen Ming to step into the formation.

At Yan Jun’s command, Chen Ming entered the array. As Yan Jun infused it with soul power, the formation at his feet began to glow, and motes of light rose from the pattern, surging into his body.

If the radiance from the formation when awakening the city lord’s child had been a mere one, then for Chen Ming, the amount of light was at least threefold. Even the most clueless onlooker would sense something was unusual.

A torrent of lights rose from the array, absorbed by Chen Ming. As time passed, a peculiar power began to well up within him.

This power gathered and surged, as if shattering an invisible barrier. Chen Ming’s body underwent a tremendous transformation.

Accompanied by the sound of fabric tearing, a slender, emerald scorpion tail extended from Chen Ming’s spine. Green light gushed from his dantian, enveloping his entire form.

Where he had already stood out among his peers for his size, now his frame seemed to inflate further, wrists and ankles thickening, and a layer of metallic, emerald-green carapace appeared on his forearms—resembling sturdy bracers.

The emerald light shrouded his tail and arms, and as his soul power instinctively flowed, a sweet, pungent scent began to permeate the air.

Yan Jun had not expected Chen Ming’s awakening to cause such a commotion, but, familiar with the Chen family’s hereditary Jade Phosphor Scorpion martial soul and its potent venom, he instinctively wrapped himself in soul power the moment he saw the green light bloom from Chen Ming.

And he was right to do so.

Within moments, as the sickly sweet scent spread through the air, the other children—those who had not yet awakened—were immediately affected.

Some tried to flee, but the toxins disrupted their nerves and they tripped over their own feet, flailing their arms wildly and dragging others down with them. Those who had not yet panicked were soon swept up in the chaos, all stumbling to the ground.

Excited and frightened, the children gasped for breath, drawing the venomous air deep into their lungs. Under the twin assaults of anxiety and poison, their bodies convulsed involuntarily; their limbs thrashed, faces twisted in terror, cries and screams making the scene even more chaotic.

Seeing the disaster unfold, Yan Jun’s face darkened. With a flick of his wrist, the cane he’d been leaning on transformed into supple vines, lifting the fallen children from the ground and channeling gentle soul power into their bodies.

“Where are the adults from the Chen family? Bring the antidote, quickly!” Yan Jun barked at the crowd. At his command, the onlookers finally grasped the gravity of the situation. In the ensuing commotion, a slight, thin man squeezed through to the front, producing a wooden bead carved from some special wood.

As he infused it with soul power, the bead emitted a fragrant aroma that gradually dispelled the sickly sweetness from the air. The children, still held by Yan Jun’s vines, slowly calmed under the bead’s soothing scent, though Yan Jun’s expression remained grim.

He knew well that while the bead’s fragrance could swiftly counteract the poison, it too carried a mild toxin. Though it would only make one drowsy, for children without soul power, even that could be overwhelming.