All rights reserved to the respective authors.
"Dialogue": Represented in double quotes for conversations between characters.
'Thoughts': Represented in single quotation marks, indicating the characters' internal reflections.
[Diary]: Represented in square brackets, used for messages intended for the heroines or entries written by Tenshin.
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Nuoding Academy
On the quiet campus grounds of Nuoding Academy, Satoru Tenshin, Tang San, and Yu Xiaogang stood facing each other. Of the three, only one seemed truly composed. Yu Xiaogang, visibly agitated, struggled to maintain his calm. He had never taken well to being questioned—especially not by someone younger. To him, challenges to his authority were affronts to both his pride and his intellect.
After a pause, Yu Xiaogang steadied his breath and fixed his gaze on Tenshin. But what he saw unsettled him: a flicker of irony, almost amusement, danced in Tenshin's eyes. There was only cool, quiet judgment.
Still, he began to speak. "I may not be powerful, but I was once part of the Spirit Hall. I had access to their data archives—extensive and carefully curated. That access formed the foundation for my theoretical system. I used it to develop what I call the Ten Core Competencies of Martial Souls."
Tenshin tilted his head slightly, absorbing the words. A smile began to form—soft at first, almost innocent. But the sharpness beneath it soon became evident.
"So," he said slowly, "most of your theories come from the Spirit Hall. You didn't develop them from scratch. You compiled, categorized, and interpreted existing data. And that's what makes you a theoretical master?"
Yu Xiaogang flinched inwardly.
Tenshin continued without raising his voice. "I see. In that case, I don't believe I need to become your disciple. I'll pursue my studies independently." He walked past the teacher with deliberate calm. "Goodbye, Master."
As he passed between Yu Xiaogang and Tang San, he added in a low but clear voice, "If you don't see a problem with that, then I can only say—I find you disappointing. And a little disgusting."
He didn't look back.
Yu Xiaogang stood frozen. It wasn't just rejection. It was rejection delivered in front of his most promising disciple—public and piercing. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Anything he said now could backfire. Tang San was watching carefully. Yu Xiaogang needed him. The boy was essential to his ongoing research—perhaps even to his legacy.
So he forced a strained chuckle and turned to Tang San. "Well, it's his loss. When you surpass him one day, remember to give your teacher a little satisfaction. Teach him a lesson."
Tang San nodded with quiet resolve. "Understood, Teacher. It's his loss."
And yet, a seed of doubt had been planted in Tang San's heart. During the exchange, he had begun to question something he had never considered before—how much of Yu Xiaogang's work was truly original? How much had he simply borrowed from Spirit Hall archives?
But… did it matter?
Even if the source was questionable, Yu Xiaogang had recognized Tang San's unique condition—a Twin Martial Soul, an anomaly so rare most wouldn't have identified it. That insight alone placed him above nearly all other theorists on the continent. Whatever the origin of his theories, his guidance still held value.
Tang San ultimately reaffirmed his choice. This wasn't blind loyalty. It was a calculated alliance.
Elsewhere, the broadcast of the conversation was already being reviewed.
In different corners of the continent, key individuals reacted with varied emotions.
Bibi Dong and Liu Erlong both sat in stunned silence, watching the footage replay.
Though they had known Yu Xiaogang was not a fighter, they had always admired his intellectual rigor. His work had been regarded as the product of isolation, passion, and tireless study. Now, that belief was crumbling. The revelation that his famed Ten Core Competencies might have originated from Spirit Hall's archives, rather than his own insights, felt like a betrayal.
To Liu Erlong, it cut particularly deep.
During their time in the Golden Iron Triangle, she had fallen for his mind—his brilliance, his ideals. She had even chosen him over Flender. She had believed in his vision, his commitment to knowledge.
Now she wondered—had it all been a lie?
In contrast, Ning Rongrong's reaction was more clinical. As the heiress of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Clan, she had been raised in wealth, guided by scholars and was loved by Ning Fengzhi, Sword Douluo, and Bone Douluo. She wasn't naïve about how knowledge circulated behind closed doors.
To her, Yu Xiaogang's behavior wasn't just ethically questionable—it was disgraceful. He hadn't just failed to credit the original source; he had built his entire reputation atop it, never once acknowledging the borrowed foundation.
She recalled her father once referring to Yu Xiaogang as a "theoretical master." Back then, she had missed the irony in his tone. But now, she saw it clearly. Perhaps he had always known.
Still, she couldn't be sure if that was the only reason for her father's disapproval. There might be more beneath the surface.
Back at Nuoding Academy, Tenshin reached the administration building and quickly completed the registration process. He presented his Soul Master certificate and underwent the routine soul power assessment. As planned, he concealed the true extent of his strength, revealing only a modest level 8 soul power—a perfectly believable number. For a talented child, advancing one level a month after awakening was common, especially within the first ten levels.
He also used the opportunity to gather information about the academy grounds. Nuoding Academy, though categorized as a basic-level institution, was surprisingly well-organized. The campus included a central teaching hall, a large training field, and student dormitories positioned to the east. Despite its status, the school ran under tight regulation—every student, regardless of their origin, was required to live on campus and adhere to strict schedules.
Most instructors were Spirit Grandmasters around level 25, sporting the standard one white, one yellow ring configuration. The dean stood out slightly with four rings: white, yellow, yellow, and purple. A level 42 Spirit Ancestor—not weak, but his ring quality revealed he hadn't faced overly dangerous beasts in his career.
After receiving two sets of academy uniforms, Tenshin packed them carefully and made his way to his assigned dormitory—Dorm Seven.
The moment he pushed open the creaking wooden door, a burst of noise greeted him: laughter, jeers, and the sound of furniture scraping. Inside, fifty beds were arranged in neat rows, though most were unoccupied. Only the front eleven were made with care. Toward the center, a group of older boys had gathered, lounging and talking loudly.
When they noticed him, the room quieted slightly.
"You must be the new work-study student," said a tall, wiry boy with a mischievous grin. "Well, how about a fight?"
Tenshin tilted his head and gave a polite nod. "Sure. Just let me find a bed first."
The boy blinked, caught off guard by the calm reply. Murmurs passed through the group. A few pointed to the empty beds at the back.
Tenshin walked over, set down his things, and turned to face them. "I'm Satoru Tenshin," he said smoothly. "Now—who are you, and why do we have to fight?"
He already knew the answer, but asking helped maintain the illusion of unfamiliarity.
The same boy stepped forward proudly. "Wang Sheng. I'm the dorm leader. Every new student fights me. Win, and you take my place."
He paused, then added more seriously, "We're all work-study students here. No backing. No powerful families. That's why we need a strong leader—someone who can protect us from the nobles."
Tenshin nodded in quiet understanding. He remembered Xiao Chenyu, the city lord's son, would eventually try to push them around. In the original timeline, Tang San had taken the lead then. But perhaps it didn't have to go the same way.
"Out of respect for tradition," Tenshin said, "I accept."
They cleared space in the dorm's center. The others gathered around, eager to watch.
Wang Sheng took a deep breath. "Wang Sheng. Martial Soul: Battle Tiger. Soul Power: Level 9."
Tenshin followed. "Satoru Tenshin. Martial Soul: Chains. Soul Power: Level 8."
Gasps broke out. Level 8? Already?
Without wasting time, Wang Sheng lunged forward, fist flying toward Tenshin's chest.
Tenshin waited until the last possible second. Then he pivoted, seized Wang Sheng's wrist, and drove a knee into his abdomen.
Whump.
Wang Sheng gasped, the breath knocked from his lungs. He barely registered the sweep that followed, sending him crashing to the floor.
Bang!
Coughing, dazed, he lay on the wooden boards. Tenshin offered him a hand. "I win."
Wang Sheng took it, still stunned. "How are you this strong? What's your innate soul power?"
Tenshin answered simply, "Level Seven."
Gasps echoed again. Prodigy-level.
But before the room could shift too far into admiration, Tenshin raised a hand.
"I have no interest in being dorm leader," he said. "But if the noble students give you trouble, you can come to me."
A stunned silence followed—then smiles, nods, even admiration. Relief flooded the room. With someone like Tenshin nearby, perhaps things wouldn't be so hard after all.
He had declined leadership for one reason: responsibility was time-consuming. With his own goals to chase, he had no interest in day-to-day politics. But by offering support, he ensured goodwill without entanglements.
Just then, the door to Dorm Seven creaked open, and Tang San stepped inside.
The moment his eyes landed on Tenshin, a flicker of surprise passed across his expression. Still, his voice remained calm and measured.
"I didn't expect you to be assigned here as well. What a coincidence."
Tenshin, standing with quiet poise and his hands relaxed at his sides, gave a small nod. "Yes, quite the coincidence indeed."
Without waiting for further comment, he continued in a neutral tone, "Since you're now part of Dorm Seven, it's only fair that I explain the rules. Every newcomer is expected to spar with the current dorm leader. The winner earns the position. Do you have any objections?"
Tang San's gaze narrowed subtly, and a skeptical smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You're not suggesting you hold that title… are you?"
It wasn't an unreasonable assumption. Tenshin had arrived earlier and now stood confidently in front of the room. Behind him, several students eyed him with an undercurrent of deference—an unspoken signal that something had already occurred.
Tenshin let out a soft, amused chuckle. "Not quite. I did win the match, but I chose to decline the position." His smile lingered, tinged with wry humor.
For a moment, Tang San had no response. A flicker of irritation stirred within him.
He hadn't forgotten the incident earlier that day—Tenshin's public dismissal of his teacher, Yu Xiaogang. The words had been sharp, cutting. And as Yu Xiaogang's disciple, Tang San couldn't help but take the slight personally.
What made it worse was that his teacher had given him specific instructions: If the chance arises, teach that boy a lesson.
Tang San had intended to use the dormitory's traditional challenge as the perfect excuse. But now that Tenshin had stepped aside from leadership, the opportunity had slipped through his fingers.
Still, the custom remained.
In the end, the situation played out much as it had in the original timeline: Tang San stepped into the sparring ring and faced off against Wang Sheng.
Their fight, though brief, was one-sided. Tang San's skill and soul power were decisive, leaving no room for doubt. He claimed the title of dormitory head and, with it, the respect of his peers.
Once the energy in the room settled, Tang San spent time familiarizing himself with the academy grounds and its rhythms. Casual conversations with the other boys helped him piece together a clearer picture of daily life at Nuoding Academy.
Then, when the day seemed to be halfway over, a loud, confident voice sounded from the other side of the door.
"Is this Dormitory Seven?"
Heads turned instantly.
Standing casually in the open doorway was a young girl dressed in a vibrant pink outfit that clashed strikingly with the dorm's simple and worn decor. Her long, raven-black hair was braided into a meticulous scorpion tail braid that swayed gracefully behind her. Her cheeks glowed with a gentle blush, like ripe peaches kissed by the sun. Her eyes—large, bright, and brimming with mischief—sparkled with curiosity and excitement.
With an easy smile, she stepped fully into the room, gave an enthusiastic wave, and announced, "Hi, everyone! I'm Xiao Wu—'Wu' as in dancing! I've got full innate soul power, and my martial soul is the Soft Boned Rabbit!"
Her voice rang with clarity and confidence.
A stunned silence fell over the dorm.
All except Tenshin stood frozen, blinking in disbelief.
Another genius? On the same day?
And not just powerful—beautiful too?
Wang Sheng's jaw slackened slightly as he exchanged looks with the other boys. The mood in the room shifted from disbelief to something bordering on awe. Two prodigies arriving on the same day, both claiming full soul power—and both entering as work-study students?
What were the odds?
As far as Wang Sheng knew, the strongest student currently at Nuoding Academy was Xiao Chenyu, a sixth-grade noble whose martial soul cultivation had only reached level eleven. But now, with Tang San and Xiao Wu in the mix, everything could change. Once the two acquired their first soul rings, even the noble students might struggle to maintain their dominance.
In that moment, it became clear: the dorm's balance of power was beginning to shift.
As for Tenshin, although his innate soul power was only ranked at level seven—slightly lower than theirs—he had already advanced to level eight. At his current pace, it wouldn't be long before he reached the threshold to obtain his own soul ring.
Still staring, Tang San finally blinked and turned, puzzled. "Wait... our dorm allows girls too?"
He directed the question at Wang Sheng, who scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
"Uh… I guess so? It's rare, but… yeah. Apparently."
Soon after, Xiao Wu made her way around the room, introducing herself with bright chatter and effortless charm. Within minutes, she had warmed up to most of the boys—and then, true to tradition, she issued a challenge.
Her target: Tang San.
Despite her delicate appearance and girlish energy, Xiao Wu revealed astonishing skill the moment the duel began. She danced across the floor with light-footed grace, every movement fluid and precise. Tang San, skilled as he was, found himself on the defensive almost immediately.
In a dazzling blur of spins and strikes, Xiao Wu brought the match to a close. It was over quickly—but no one doubted the result.
She had won.
Without missing a beat, she grinned and placed her hands on her hips. "From now on, you'll all call me Elder Sister!"