Chapter 6: Flame and Spirit

The sun rose over the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan's estate, casting golden rays across the lotus gardens as the morning breeze stirred the scent of spirit-veined herbs. Amid the quiet hum of nature, six-year-old Ning Zhen was already crouched beside a smoldering forge, poking molten ore with a stick.

"Zhen'er, it's not even breakfast," Lady Yanxi sighed, stepping outside and crossing her arms.

"I'm listening to the tin," Zhen said seriously, his brows furrowed in concentration. "It's asking if it can be stronger."

She rolled her eyes, but pride flickered behind the gesture. Her son wasn't just a child with unusual talent—he was a phenomenon. And today, he would awaken his martial spirit.

Inside the great hall, tension simmered hotter than the forge. Bone Douluo Gu Rong and Sword Douluo Chen Xin stood in a silent standoff. It was time to decide who would conduct the spirit awakening.

"I'm doing the spirit awakening!" Sword Douluo declared, eyes blazing.

"In your dreams, old sword. I get this one," Gu Rong countered, pointing an accusatory finger.

"You held him at birth, that was your moment!"

"That was ceremonial! This is destiny!"

Lady Yanxi intervened with the wisdom of a woman who'd witnessed these arguments a thousand times. "Rock-paper-scissors. First to 100 wins."

Gu Rong won. By the time he leapt up with a triumphant yell, even the spirit guards had stopped placing bets. Sword Douluo muttered something about rigged finger shapes.

When the incense was lit and the ancestral circle drawn, Zhen stepped calmly into the center. Bone Douluo approached, his hand gently resting on the boy's shoulder as he began channeling spirit power. A ripple of radiant energy surged across the circle. The air shimmered and thickened.

Then, the forge spirit revealed itself.

A radiant, flame-wreathed structure emerged from behind Zhen, taking the unmistakable form of a multi-tiered anvil—shaped like a pagoda, its nine tiers glowing like molten crystal, each layered with slow-burning spiritual fire. But it wasn't just a projection.

It pulsed.

It breathed.

The anvil shifted faintly as if adjusting to its surroundings. The flames danced, not chaotically, but in a rhythm—a hum of life.

Yanxi gasped, her hand to her lips. "It's not just fire… it's alive."

Sword Douluo took a cautious step forward. "His spirit… it's breathing."

"It's a living forge," Fengzhi whispered. "I've never read of such a thing. Not even in the secret records."

As the spirit settled behind the boy, the spirit power test was prepared. The spirit crystal, clear and pristine, was brought forward. Zhen placed his hand on it without hesitation. The orb lit up instantly—not with a burst, but a deep, blinding glow that filled the entire room.

"It didn't break," Yanxi observed. "But it's brighter than anything I've ever seen."

Gu Rong leaned in. "That's not just level ten."

Sword Douluo frowned. "It's compressed power. There's more hiding under that brightness—layers of it."

Fengzhi said nothing. He simply placed his hand over his son's shoulder and whispered, "He was born to forge miracles."

Later that evening, the family gathered around a familiar table in Yanxi's forge room. Sketches of glyphs lay scattered across the surface. They had seen them before—glowing across Zhen's BonkShield, etched with unteachable symmetry. And now again, at his awakening.

"These aren't from any known inscription school," Sword Douluo said. "They're instinctual. They came from him."

"They vibrate with spirit resonance," Yanxi added. "Like they're alive too."

Gu Rong leaned forward, arms crossed. "And that shield nearly knocked him out cold. He hasn't even absorbed a spirit ring yet."

"He's forbidden from forging with Heavenforge Metal until after his first ring," Fengzhi said firmly. "He can study. Sketch. Tinker. But no forging with that material. Not until it's safe."

There were no objections.

As they concluded, Yanxi placed her hand on her belly and gave her husband a sideways glance.

"I was going to wait… but I'm pregnant."

The words were quiet. But the response was immediate.

Fengzhi straightened in surprise, eyes wide. Sword Douluo's brows rose in disbelief, and Gu Rong stood so quickly he knocked over a table.

Zhen peeked through the doorway, grinning. "Mommy's growing a new person!"

Laughter filled the hall, warmth wrapping around them like the forge's heat.

Later that night, as Zhen curled under his favorite bonk-blanket, Yanxi sat beside him, brushing his hair gently. Fengzhi knelt beside her.

"Your spirit," Yanxi said softly, "is unlike any we've known. It lives, Zhen. It listens. But it will need time and strength."

Fengzhi added, "As you grow, you'll have nine chances to evolve it. Each ring adds something—power, essence, meaning. Use them wisely."

Zhen nodded, his eyes half-closed. "I'll only make beautiful things. So the forge inside me stays happy."

And so, the boy with the breathing spirit drifted to sleep, unaware that tonight marked not just an awakening — but the first spark in a future of flame and legacy.