The sea was quieter today—but that silence did not comfort Bo Saixi. It was the kind of quiet that arrived just before the tide pulled back too far. The kind that signaled not peace, but the anticipation of something vast awakening beneath.
From the cliffside shrine overlooking the open expanse of the ocean, she watched a single figure glide across the water's surface in a small, enchanted skiff of deep-blue coral and light-forged wood. Shenling sat still, palms resting atop his knees, his breathing steady. His silver robes caught the wind, embroidered with shifting threads that mimicked the waves themselves.
This wasn't just a journey for a spirit ring.
It was his first solo descent into the Abyssal Reefs—a region whispered about even among the Seven Sea Douluo as a sanctuary of ancient and intelligent beasts. There, deep beneath the sea's skin, the Abyssal Kelpie waited.
As Shenling approached the edge of the reef zone, the light beneath the boat dimmed. The waters darkened into hues of indigo and void-blue. The coral shifted from colorful blooms into jagged spires, glowing faintly with bioluminescence. It was a graveyard of silence—where even predators feared to howl.
He inhaled the salt-rich air, letting it fill his lungs before exhaling in perfect rhythm with the tide. Then, slowly, he rose, stepping out onto the surface of the water. A thin silver-blue platform of spirit energy formed beneath each step, rippling slightly but holding firm.
He had no illusions, no backup, no safety net. This was his test, both of soul and will.
He closed his eyes.
And then, he sang.
A single tone, soft and searching, carried outward into the deep. Not a challenge, but a request. A calling not of domination, but communion. His voice rippled into the abyss, meeting the quiet like a drop meeting the ocean's surface.
From the void, an answer emerged.
The sea around him began to ripple—not from motion, but from sound. The resonance was ancient, alien. Like something beneath the surface was responding not with force, but with music. Notes echoed in frequencies no human ear should hear. His skin tingled.
Then, it appeared.
A silhouette rose from the deep. Its form was fluid, coiled, kelp-like—but with a crown of woven coral and eyes of soft violet light. The Abyssal Kelpie was not beast, but spirit incarnate, ancient as the reef itself.
Its voice was not a roar, but a question.
"Will you sing your name to the dark, child of tide and echo?"
Shenling opened his eyes, filled with the endless blue of the sea.
"I will," he whispered.
Then the water erupted.
The Abyssal Kelpie's eyes gleamed with amethyst light as its form broke the surface like a summoned nightmare. It moved with the grace of water itself, sliding over coral outcrops and kelp strands without disturbing a single droplet. Shenling stood calmly on his floating platform, but his heart beat like the thunder before a storm.
It struck first—an eruption of liquid mass coalescing into a serrated blade aimed directly at Shenling's midsection. The boy leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the arc, before raising his hand.
"First Soul Skill—Siren Echo!"
A haunting chime filled the air. Notes layered upon one another like harmonics blooming across the reef. The air shimmered. The sea rippled.
The Kelpie faltered—its motion lagging, twisted by the illusion. It turned suddenly, mistaking one of Shenling's echo projections for the real target. But the boy didn't stop.
He sang again.
This time, "Second Soul Skill—Soul Lure Mirage!"
Mirrors of himself sprang into existence, each perfectly lifelike, moving with synchronized fluidity. Ten Shenlings danced across the water's surface, their voices blending into a phantom chorus. The Kelpie roared—a cry not of pain, but disorientation.
It swung, its limbs slicing through illusions, only to be met with water vapor and sound. Shenling maneuvered among his own projections, his bare feet skimming waves.
But the Kelpie learned quickly.
It paused, body sinking lower into the tide. Then—silence. The beast dropped completely beneath the surface.
Shenling frowned. "It's adapting…"
Suddenly, a geyser erupted beneath him.
Shenling flew upward, spinning in the air to regain balance. Mid-twist, he exhaled and cast out his hand.
Voice of the Abyss.
A deep, reverberating note spilled from his soul, resonating not in sound, but in memory. It was not just an attack—it was understanding. The Kelpie, rising from the surge, stopped mid-lunge. Its coils hesitated, its body quaking. A moment passed.
And in that heartbeat, Shenling pressed on.
He descended with momentum, launching a cascading wave of raw spirit energy in tune with the echoing cry. Light and water bent around him, illusions entwined with resonance.
The Kelpie recovered. It growled low, then unleashed a counter-surge of its own—a tidal whiplash aimed at his core. Shenling crossed his arms, shielding himself with a sudden barrier of vibrating mist. He hit the reef, skidding across its surface.
Blood lined his lip. He stood.
He sang again.
The melody was softer now, mournful.
The reef responded. Kelp swayed not with current, but in harmony. The coral pulsed.
The ocean listened.
The Kelpie stood before him, breathing heavily, eyes no longer glowing with rage. Shenling too panted, body aching from the trials. He stepped forward.
And then he dropped to one knee.
Not in surrender.
But in respect.
The Kelpie moved. Slowly, it circled him once. Its massive, flowing form glowed with bioluminescent trails that traced circles in the air. Then, from its chest, emerged a sphere—its core of essence, purified by willingness.
Shenling reached out.
The orb touched his palm. Light engulfed him.
Violet threads spun around his Siren martial soul. The ring formed, spinning slowly at first, then rapidly stabilizing into a thousand-year soul ring.
And with it, the birth of his third skill.
It wasn't immediate. It wasn't loud.
It was subtle. A sensation, like a thread being woven between his soul and the sea itself. He felt the ocean. The song within it.
He gasped, clutched his chest.
A third ability, unnamed but known—an instinctual echo of the bond forged not through dominance, but harmony.
Bo Saixi appeared beside him. Her presence was silent, her robes floating in the tide's breath. She watched him with tear-glimmered eyes.
"You didn't conquer it," she said, kneeling.
He looked at her. "No. I listened."
A smile broke her solemn features. "Then the sea has truly chosen you."
The reef shimmered around them. The ocean hummed softly.
In that stillness, Shenling sang—not for battle, not for power, but for thanks.
And the ocean answered.