Sea Spear Douluo – Instinct and Flow
The next morning found Shenling standing at the edge of a crescent-shaped reef. Coral daggers jutted from the seabed like the spears of ancient warriors, and the water churned with a subtle violence. Sea Spear Douluo waited in the center of it all—tall, lean, and motionless. His long, sea-blue cloak rippled behind him, and in his hand, he held a spear of condensed spiritual power, translucent and deadly.
"You've walked with ghosts and dreamed with mist," Sea Spear began, his voice sharp and unwavering. "Now you learn to pierce through all of it."
Shenling stepped forward, wary. "What will I be piercing?"
"Doubt. Distraction. Deception. Hesitation. Everything that makes you pause when you should strike."
Sea Spear raised his weapon and pointed it at Shenling. "Attack me."
The order came so suddenly, Shenling faltered. "Wait—what?"
"Attack. Now."
Without thinking, Shenling lunged forward, summoning the faint blue aura of his martial soul. But before he even came close, Sea Spear vanished, reappearing behind him and delivering a blunt strike to the back that sent Shenling sprawling.
"You hesitate. You anticipate loss," Sea Spear said coldly. "Do you want to be feared by your enemies, or pitied?"
Shenling gritted his teeth. "Again."
He attacked over and over, and every time, he failed. Sea Spear never raised his voice, never mocked him. But every strike was a lesson in futility.
"Focus!" Sea Spear barked. "Your spirit is scattered. Bring it to a point. Like a spear."
Days passed. Shenling bled. He bruised. But something within him started to sharpen. With every dodge, every counter, he moved more efficiently. His thoughts became clearer. His movements more exact.
"Why do you fight?" Sea Spear asked one evening as they sat watching the waves crash against jagged rocks.
Shenling's response came slower than usual. "Because I want to be worthy of the Sea God. Because I want to protect those who gave me a chance. Because I was abandoned once, and I don't want anyone else to feel that."
Sea Spear looked at him then, really looked. "Good. Then when you strike, let your purpose guide your point."
He held out the spear. "This is not a weapon. It's an extension of you. Until your will is steady, this will betray you."
The next morning, Shenling stood once again, drenched in saltwater and sweat. He faced Sea Spear with calm eyes and unwavering steps.
"Strike," Sea Spear said.
This time, Shenling didn't hesitate. His blow was not fast—but precise. It struck just as Sea Spear moved, forcing him to deflect rather than vanish.
For the first time, Sea Spear smiled.
"Well done."
In the following weeks, Shenling trained his accuracy and timing relentlessly. He learned to feel the rhythm of battle, to predict the movements of his opponent not through brute instinct, but focused awareness. Every step had purpose. Every breath had weight.
On their final day together, Sea Spear led him to a reef shaped like a coiled serpent.
"There is a beast here," he said. "One you cannot kill, only outmaneuver."
The serpent burst forth—a massive sea creature with iridescent scales and glowing eyes. Shenling didn't hesitate. He danced between its strikes, leapt across reef stones, and with a focused thrust of energy, redirected its charge until it slithered away.
As the beast vanished beneath the sea, Sea Spear nodded.
"You've learned the way of the spear. You've learned the way of resolve."
Shenling bowed. "Thank you, master."
Sea Spear placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Your path is your own. But now, you walk it without wavering."
Seahorse Douluo – Balance and Breath
The tide pool where Seahorse Douluo trained was unlike any other place Shenling had visited. It was both tranquil and unpredictable—water shifted from calm ripples to whirlpools in seconds, driven by an unseen force. Seahorse Douluo himself stood in the eye of a minor maelstrom, calm as a monk, with eyes closed and hands folded before him.
"You've honed your will and your spear. Now you must learn the currents within and without," Seahorse Douluo intoned, his voice low and strangely melodic.
Shenling bowed respectfully. "What must I do, Master Seahorse?"
Seahorse opened one eye, and the whirlpool stopped. "Control. Discipline. Understanding the balance between freedom and restraint. That is the way of the tide."
He gestured to the roiling waters. "Step into the pool."
The moment Shenling's foot touched the water, a surge of energy reacted to him. A whirlpool rose beneath his feet, threatening to pull him under.
"Control it," Seahorse said. "Not with power, but with rhythm. With respect."
Shenling closed his eyes and extended his senses. The water was not angry—it was wild. Responsive. Living.
He didn't force it. He matched its pulse. Breathed with it. The whirlpool slowed. Then stopped.
Seahorse nodded. "Good. You see now? The sea does not demand dominance. It demands understanding."
Days passed in quiet training. Shenling learned to walk on shifting water, to fight while floating without resistance. Seahorse taught him breathing techniques, meditative stances, and how to channel his soul power in fluid, constant cycles.
During one lesson, Seahorse sent dozens of water orbs hurtling toward Shenling. At first, he blocked them all. But Seahorse shook his head.
"Too rigid. You are treating this like battle. Let them flow."
So Shenling stopped blocking. He began weaving, letting each orb graze past him, using the energy of his steps and flow of his body to create openings.
"Yes," Seahorse said with rare approval. "This is harmony. This is the Sea God's rhythm."
One evening, as the tide glowed under the moonlight, Seahorse sat beside Shenling on a flat rock.
"When I was your age," Seahorse said, his voice soft, "I failed. I fought the sea, tried to chain it to my will. It broke me."
Shenling looked at him, surprised. "But you're the master of control."
"Because I surrendered to it. Learned that leadership is not command—it is attunement."
He turned toward Shenling with gentle eyes. "You will be greater than me. But never forget: those who flow with the tide can never be drowned."
On the final day, Seahorse summoned a storm above them. Shenling stood in the middle of crashing waves and howling winds.
"Balance the chaos," Seahorse called. "Guide it—do not fight it!"
Shenling's spirit aura rose, spiraling with the wind. He moved not against the storm, but within it, flowing with it until his presence calmed the sea itself.
Seahorse Douluo bowed deeply. "You've mastered more than balance. You've mastered trust."
Shenling returned the bow, heart full.
"Thank you, master."
Sea Star Douluo – Fusion and Harmony
The final of the Seven awaited Shenling on the highest cliff of Sea God Island, where the sky seemed to kiss the sea, and the stars shone even before night had fully fallen. Sea Star Douluo stood alone, garbed in layered robes that shimmered like constellations cast in water. Her smile was the first to greet Shenling—gentle, open, infinitely patient.
"You've come a long way," she said, her voice like starlight on gentle waves. "And yet, there is still one light you have yet to uncover."
Shenling stepped forward, respectful but curious. "What light is that, Master Sea Star?"
She turned to the horizon, where the sun had dipped beneath the sea, and twilight spilled across the waves. "The light that guides from within, even in your darkest moments—hope."
Unlike the others, Sea Star Douluo's training was not harsh, nor built upon force or overwhelming pressure. Instead, she took Shenling on walks along the sea cliffs, spoke to him beneath moonlight, and taught him to listen to the subtle rhythms of the universe.
"You carry the weight of many," she said one evening, as they sat beneath the stars. "The sea, the Siren, Bo Saixi's love, the expectations of the Seven. But among all these, what do you want?"
Shenling hesitated. No one had asked him that before.
"I want to... protect the ocean. Be worthy of Mother's love. But more than that…" He paused, his gaze lifting to the sky. "I want to make sure no child is ever cast away like I was. I want to become someone others can depend on."
Sea Star Douluo smiled, her eyes glistening with something softer than pride—recognition.
"Then your light has always been there," she whispered. "You've never stopped shining."
Her training brought Shenling into communion with celestial phenomena—guiding him to attune his spirit energy to the cycles of the moon and stars. Under her guidance, his Siren martial soul began to evolve. Its song could now carry intent: it could calm beasts, bolster allies, or stir courage in the hearts of the fearful.
One night, she led him to a sacred cove where the stars above mirrored the bioluminescent plankton below. Shenling stood in the center, feeling the energy swirl around him.
"This is the Nexus Tide," she said. "It connects sky and sea. Above and below. In it lies the bridge between despair and hope."
As Shenling entered deep meditation, the stars pulsed in rhythm with his breathing. He saw visions—not of war or conquest, but of leading others from darkness. Of singing songs not of sorrow, but of healing.
When he opened his eyes, Sea Star stood across from him, tears in her eyes.
"You've found your radiance," she said. "And now, you will carry it for others."
In their final lesson, she showed him how to project light—not just as energy, but as emotion, belief, legacy.
"Let your soul be a beacon," she told him. "For when the seas darken, you must be the North Star."
As Shenling bowed before her, she placed a luminous pearl into his hand.
"This was once mine. It guided me when I was lost. Now, it belongs to you."
He looked at it, then back to her. "I won't let the light fade."
She touched his cheek with infinite gentleness. "Nor will I."
With that, the training of the Seven was complete.
And somewhere beneath the waves, the tides stirred.
For the sea had found its son.