Chapter 6 : One Day, We Will Fight Against the Heavens Again!
"Dad, don't be angry. I don't want to be a soul master anymore. I just want to stay with you and cook for you!" Tang San held tightly onto Tang Hao's clenched fists.
Old Jack's voice came from outside, his tone triumphant. "Humph! That's more like it. You stubborn fool finally came around!" With that, the elderly man turned on his heel and walked away, pleased with himself.
Inside the blacksmith shop, Tang Hao's stern demeanor softened for a moment. "San'er, release your martial spirit and show it to me."
Tang San nodded obediently. He raised his right hand and activated the Xuan Tian Gong technique. A faint blue light shimmered in his palm, and a small blade of blue grass materialized.
Tang Hao's gaze lingered on the grass for a long moment, his expression a complex mix of nostalgia and pain. "Blue Silver Grass," he murmured. "It's just like hers."
His voice cracked slightly at the end, and he abruptly turned away, lifting the door curtain as he retreated into the inner room.
The memory of a once-beautiful life flashed vividly in Tang Hao's mind—the smiles, the laughter, the love he had lost. In his solitude, he whispered, "Ayin."
Tang San, still standing, broke the silence cautiously. "Dad, I think… I have another martial spirit."
This caught Tang Hao's attention immediately. The door curtain was pushed aside once more, and Tang Hao emerged, his eyes wide with shock.
"Another martial spirit?" he asked, his voice trembling.
Tang San nodded. This time, he raised his left hand. A faint black light appeared, swirling ominously before condensing into a small, dark hammer. The hammer was simple yet powerful, with faint patterns carved along its cylindrical head.
The moment the hammer appeared, the atmosphere in the room grew heavy. Tang Hao's eyes widened even further. He stepped forward in disbelief, grabbing the hammer in his son's hand.
"This… This is…" Tang Hao's voice broke, and his hands trembled as he held the hammer. He knew it well.
"Clear Sky Hammer!" he finally managed to say. "Twin martial spirits… My son has twin martial spirits!" His voice cracked with emotion as he pulled Tang San into a tight embrace. "My son!"
"Dad," Tang San gasped, struggling under the hammer's weight. "I can't hold it much longer!"
"Then take it back," Tang Hao instructed gently but firmly.
Tang San nodded, willing the hammer to disappear. As he did, Tang Hao's face hardened into an expression of grim determination.
"In the future, you must use the hammer in your left hand to protect the grass in your right hand. Remember that—forever." With those cryptic words, he turned and walked back into the inner room.
Three months passed quickly as Tang San prepared for his future. Between cooking meals for his father and perfecting his skills at blacksmithing, he also began crafting hidden weapons. While he worked tirelessly, a lingering thought plagued him—how could his weapons pierce even the strongest defenses?
In a small wooden house on the west side of Holy Soul Village, Shen Lang sat cross-legged on his bed, concluding a night of cultivation. He opened his eyes, and a faint black light flickered in them. His demonic cultivation technique had advanced once more.
"It truly is worthy of being called the Heaven-Devouring Demonic Art," he murmured with a satisfied smile.
He raised his right hand, and a black light shimmered. A small, bird-like creature materialized in his palm. Its appearance resembled a sparrow, but its aura was anything but ordinary.
"What exactly is this martial spirit I've awakened?" Shen Lang wondered aloud. "Is it really the 'Black Canary' that Brother Tao mentioned? Somehow, that doesn't sit right with me."
The bird chirped softly, its dark feathers glinting faintly. It seemed to feed on the demonic energy radiating from Shen Lang's palm, growing slightly larger before stopping. Shen Lang frowned.
"So, it can only absorb so much for now." He paused, staring at the creature. "But this is only the beginning."
He reached out his left hand, summoning his second martial spirit—the Donghuang Bell, a miniature golden clock that radiated immense, ancient power. Though cracked and seemingly damaged, its aura was unmatched.
"One day," Shen Lang said quietly, his voice brimming with determination, "we'll fight against the heavens again."
On the outskirts of the village, the sound of iron being hammered echoed through the crisp morning air. Shen Lang followed the sound to find Tang San diligently practicing blacksmithing under Tang Hao's watchful eye. Despite his small frame, Tang San handled the casting hammer with impressive vigor.
Tang Hao's stern voice broke through the rhythmic hammering. "What's the most important part of the human body besides the brain?"
Tang San answered without hesitation, "The heart."
Tang Hao's lips curved slightly into a rare, faint smile. "Good. Then tell me, how many hearts does a person have?"
"One," Tang San replied, puzzled by the simplicity of the question.
Tang Hao shook his head. "No, you're wrong. Remember this—a person has three hearts, not one."
Tang Hao's movements suddenly became fluid as he demonstrated his technique. With each swing of his hammer, the power in his strikes seemed to flow seamlessly from his legs to his waist, then to his back and arms. The result was mesmerizing—a perfect demonstration of the Chaos Cloak Hammer Technique.
Watching from the side, Shen Lang's eyes lit up. A familiar voice echoed in his mind.
"Congratulations, host. You have captured the Chaos Cloak Hammer Technique. Would you like to learn it?"
That night, the stars hung high in the sky, casting a silver glow over the quiet village. Shen Lang gazed out his window, a faint smile on his lips.
"Follow me," he whispered, "and one day, we'll conquer the heavens."
(End of Chapter)