C-8 Slaughter Coming?"

Ling Chen's consciousness snapped back into his physical body. His eyelids fluttered open to chaos—the elders and family members were arguing heatedly, their voices overlapping in disbelief.

He rose from the awakening platform, his movements smooth despite the spiritual exhaustion. The elder controlling the formation stiffened as Ling Chen approached and bowed

"Elder," Ling Chen's voice cut through the noise, "what grade is my soul?

The elder remained silent for a long moment, his wrinkled face tense with calculation. Finally, he spoke, his voice measured yet uneasy:

It seems... this formation cannot properly gauge your soul. Your power level fluctuates wildly—sometimes matching the Family Lord's daughter, sometimes low it." He wiped his brow with a trembling hand. "A hybrid soul like yours defies conventional measurement. The readings may not reflect true combat potential.

Ling Chen absorbed this quietly. Ling Chen subtly glanced at his palm, where an infinity symbol had materialized - its lines shimmering like molten silver against his skin before fading. His breath caught. This mark... it must be connected to my other soul, he realized, careful to keep his expression neutral.

The elder continued speaking, unaware of Ling Chen's discovery. Ling Chen focused inward, trying to summon the symbol again. A faint warmth pulsed in his palm, but the mark remained hidden

Ling Chen stepped down from platform, his footsteps eerily silent. He returned to his seat beside his mother and sister, who subtly shifted closer - their quiet show of solidarity amidst the lingering stares.

One by one, the remaining clan children underwent their soul awakenings. The formations flickered predictably now, revealing nothing more extraordinary than Grade 3-5 souls. The elders' earlier excitement over Ling Chen's awakening had dulled into routine assessments.

Then—the Family Lord rose. His voice carried across the courtyard like rumbling thunder

Children who awakened today, Remember this Levels mean nothing. Soul grades mean nothing. Without cultivation, without struggle, even an immortal-grade soul is worthless

His gaze swept across the young faces. The weak must never think themselves powerless. The gifted must never grow complacent. Our clan's strength lies not in bloodline talents alone, but in how we hone them." He raised a fist, his own soul energy flaring - a reminder of his authority. "In five years, the great sects will descend upon our city for disciple selection. They only choose those who reach at least Mortal Realm Level 5. Let this be your fire.

A thunderous BOOM shook the courtyard. Every head snapped upward as the wispy clouds parted unnaturally, fleeing like frightened beasts until the sky became a void-like canvas.

There, suspended mid-air as if standing on invisible ground, floated a man in flowing dark silk robes. His crimson-Red eyes glowed like poisoned stars, scanning the stadium below. In each hand, he held a spherical hammer, their surfaces etched with pulsating runes.

"So impatient?" His voice dripped mockery as spiritual pressure radiated from him in visible waves, pushing the clouds even farther. "We came to congratulate you. Won't you show respect?"

Beside him materialized a woman in a skin-tight midnight-blue dress, its fabric clinging like liquid shadow. Her exposed legs gleamed pale against the dark fabric, and a fox-fur stole draped her shoulders—its hollow eyes seeming to watch the crowd. She cradled a Cat-like beast in her arms, her fingers idly stroking the creature's forehead.

The woman yawned, whispering to her pet: "Mm. Boring."

The air itself seemed to solidify as the Family Elders and the Family Lord materialized in the center of the platform in a flash of golden light, their arrival sending ripples through the gathered crowd. The Family Lord raised his hand, and a shimmering barrier formed overhead, shielding the weaker clan members from the crushing spiritual pressure.

"Esteemed Immortals," the Family Lord called out, his voice steady despite the tension in his stance. "We are honored by your presence in our humble clan. However..." He gestured to the trembling children and pale-faced elders around him. "Our family members are mere mortals. They cannot withstand such overwhelming pressure. Might you... lessen your aura?"

A heavy silence followed.

The crimson-eyed man tilted his head, his lips curling into a smirk. "Mortals," he mused, as if tasting the word. "How fragile." Yet, with a flick of his wrist, the oppressive weight in the air eased slightly—just enough for the clan to breathe again

The crimson-eyed man in the sky let out a low chuckle that sent shivers through the gathered clan. His voice dripped with mocking amusement as he spoke:

"We are from the Blood Moon Sect. I am Xue Mo." He raised one of his spherical hammers, its surface pulsing with dark energy. "We've come to inspect… which of your little clan members awakened a soul worth our attention."

The Family Lord and elders exchanged uneasy glances. Swallowing his nerves, the Family Lord stepped forward and bowed deeply.

"Honored Senior of the Blood Moon Sect," he said, voice steady despite the tension. "Two of our children have indeed awakened high-grade souls today. If you've come to select disciples… this is a great honor for our clan."

Xue Mo burst into laughter—a sound like grinding bones. "Select disciples? Hah! Yes, yes… we've heard of your family's… potential." His gaze swept over the crowd. "So? Who are they? Speak quickly."

The elders trembled, but the Family Lord's eyes gleamed with ambition. Our ancestors' blessings have finally arrived! This is our clan's chance!

The Family Lord gestured toward his daughter, his voice brimming with pride. "Senior, this is my daughter, Ling Wei. She has awakened a Phoenix Soul—Grade 10!" He gave her a sharp look. "Pay your respects."

Ling Wei bowed gracefully, her frost phoenix aura shimmering faintly. The woman in blue robes barely glanced at her before scoffing.

"Grade 10?" Her lips curled in disdain. "You think a mere Grade 10 is worthy of our sect? Are you joking?"

Xue Mo's grip tightened on his blood hammers, but he forced a smile. "Yes… acceptable," he said through gritted teeth. "But who is the other one? The second child with a high-grade soul?"

The Family Lord hesitated. "Senior, we… couldn't measure his grade. His soul is… unusual. A hybrid—like a fire lizard, but not quite. We don't yet know its true nature."

Xue Mo's eyes gleamed. "Then let us judge. Point him out. Now."

The Family Lord's gaze swept across the crowd before landing on Ling Chen, still seated beside his mother and sister.

"Ling Chen!" he barked. "What are you doing there? Come forward and show Senior your soul!"

A heavy silence fell.

Ling Chen rose from his seat, his movements deliberate as he walked toward the platform. His fingers curled subtly, concealing the faint glow of the infinity symbol on his palm. Just as he reached the center, his vision blurred—floating golden numerals materialized before his eyes, visible only to him:

[ WARNING ]

Threat Detected:

Survival Probability: 0001%

 Ling Chen's blood ran cold as the Nano Soul's warning seared into his mind. His grip tightened— They weren't here to select. They were here to slaughter.

The Family Lord stood oblivious, chest puffed with pride.

Xue Mo's smile stretched too wide.

"Show us your soul, boy," Xue Mo crooned.

Ling Chen exhaled sharply. No other choice. With a thought, he summoned the Primordial Dark Dragon Soul—but this time, not as a towering monstrosity. The soul manifested as a lion-sized specter, its obsidian scales gleaming with restrained power, wings folded tight like a blade about to unsheathe.

Xue Mo's smirk faltered. The fox-woman's fingers froze mid-pet.

Then—the dragon roared.

Ling Chen's Primordial Dark Dragon Soul didn't just roar—it calculated.

The beast's eyes glowed with eerie intelligence as it locked onto Xue Mo and the fox-woman, its growl vibrating with territorial fury. This wasn't mindless aggression—it was a strategic display, honed by instinct to expose threats.

The dragon's wings snapped open—not to attack, but to frame its master protectively, its tail lashing like a general's blade pointing at enemies. Every scale bristled with controlled rage, as if it had fought these foes a thousand times in some forgotten era.

A shockwave of primal authority ripped through the courtyard. The cat-beast in the woman's arms jerked awake, its fur bristling straight, tail rigid as a sword. Its golden pupils shrank to pinpricks—the instinctive terror of a lesser creature facing an apex predator. The beast screeched, scrambling backward so violently it drew blood from its mistress's arms.

"You—!" The woman hissed, her composure shattered.

Xue Mo's hammers ignited with crimson energy, but his eyes betrayed unease. This was no ordinary hybrid soul.

Xue Mo's turned to the woman beside him. "Scarlet Enchantress... what do you make of this soul?"

The woman's fingers paused mid-stroke on her cat fur. Her crimson eyes narrowed, studying Ling Chen's dragon with unnerving focus.

"I've never seen a hybrid like this," she admitted, her voice laced with wary intrigue. "Hybrid souls exist, yes—but not like this. Not in some backwater Level 9 country." Her lips curled. "This clan's ancestors... they couldn't have been ordinary immortals. There's power in this bloodline."

Xue Mo's smirk faded. The Scarlet Enchantress continued, her tone dropping to a lethal whisper:

"Use the artifact. Now. Check its true grade—if this soul is Level 12 or higher..." A rare flicker of unease crossed her face. "Finish the mission quickly. Powerful immortals sense disturbances like ours. We shouldn't linger."

Xue Mo's hand flicked out, revealing a grotesque three-headed dragon-turtle artifact—its obsidian shell pulsing with veins of crimson light. The creature's jaws snapped at the air as if starved.

"Boy," he sneered, landing before Ling Chen. "A drop of blood on this... and we'll see your true worth." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Join our sect as a disciple, and your entire family rises with you."

The Family Lord practically vibrated with greed. "Do it, Ling Chen!

Ling Chen's gaze swept across the elders' ecstatic faces, then back to Xue Mo's hollow grin. His Nano Soul flashed a single, scorching warning: [ LIE DETECTED ]

"Fool," Ling Chen whispered, too low for the clan lord to hear. His fingers curled. "Can't you see the slaughter coming?"

"The path to immortality isn't paved with talent—it's carved with the scars of those who refused to kneel." BY NORANG