Beneath the weight of the drowned vault and its requiem, the sea stilled—but within Shen Ling, tides shifted and roared anew.
They returned to Sea God Island aboard the enchanted gliders, the grave of the Sirens now behind them and the wind eerily still. No celebration welcomed them. Only silence. The kind that follows revelation.
Inside the Hall of Tides, Bo Saixi stood before a pedestal that glowed faintly with the Sea God's blessing. Shen Ling knelt before it, the Seven Titled Douluo forming a circle around him. As the water's song thrummed in his core, they prepared for a deeper understanding.
Bo Saixi gestured. "Speak it aloud, child. Let the sea hear what it has birthed."
Shen Ling breathed deep, eyes half-lidded. Soul power flared from his body, and one by one, his rings appeared:
First Ring: Thousand-Year—Siren's Echo
Second Ring: Thousand-Year—Soul Lure Mirage
Third Ring: Thousand-Year—Song of the Abyssal Trial
Fourth Ring: Ten Thousand-Year—Elegy of the Drowned Crown
And still, surrounding them were two separate pulses of resonant might:
Innate Soul Skill – Voice of the Abyss
Innate Soul Skill – Song of Aeloria
The hall vibrated with soundless resonance.
Bo Saixi placed her palm to his forehead again. Her fingers trembled.
"Confirmed. Your current level… is Soul Power Level 44. Your growth is not only unnatural—it's divine."
Sea Dragon Douluo crossed his arms. "Even a genius of the Sea God Pavilion would take four to five years to reach this level."
Sea Fantasy Douluo leaned in, voice lowered. "And that's assuming ideal conditions, inherited techniques, and no setbacks."
Shen Ling stood. "I did not race toward it. I followed the current. And it pulled me forward."
Sea Spear Douluo gave a dry chuckle. "You've become the youngest Soul Ancestor in sea history. No racing, huh?"
But Bo Saixi's eyes glistened—not with pride, but with unspoken dread. She knew the sea gave only what it demanded in return.
"I fear what trial may await him," she whispered to herself. "And I fear what we will lose if we are not ready."
Shen Ling bowed. "Then help me be ready. I will carry the voice that has chosen me."
The Seven Douluo exchanged looks, then nodded as one.
"Then let us begin preparing the path for what comes next."
The morning that followed Shen Ling's soul power revelation was muted, not in mood, but by design. The sea itself had grown still once more, as if watching.
Bo Saixi summoned the Seven Douluo and Shen Ling to the central terrace of the Sea God Sanctuary, its white-stone floor open to the sun, sea, and wind. It was not the trial grounds, but something older—used in past ages only for moments of turning tides.
Sea Star Douluo looked to Shen Ling, who now wore robes of deep navy etched in silver waves—a gift from Bo Saixi. "He bears four rings, but his presence feels like a Domain."
Sea Ghost Douluo muttered under her breath. "That's because it nearly is."
Shen Ling stepped forward and bowed respectfully. "I thank you for your guidance. But I believe I must now test how much the sea truly recognizes me."
Bo Saixi inclined her head. "Then you shall. You have trained long in the use of your spirit skills. Now, let us see what they become in combat."
With a flick of her hand, the air thickened with moisture, forming a battlefield dome. "A friendly duel. You will not fight one of the Titled Douluo today—but the ocean itself."
The surface of the terrace flooded with a thin sheet of water. Waves curled at the edges.
"Begin."
The sea answered.
A massive creature, crafted from condensed sea aura and water pressure, rose from the waves—shaped like a kraken, with glowing blue eyes and runes spiraling across its tendrils. A Trial Construct, formed from Bo Saixi's divine power and memory.
"Let the world watch," Sea Woman Douluo whispered.
Shen Ling exhaled slowly.
"First Soul Skill: Siren's Echo!"
A haunting melody spilled from his lips, a ripple that pulsed with invisible force. The kraken shuddered. Water trembled where it touched his voice.
"Second Soul Skill: Soul Lure Mirage!"
Illusions bloomed across the battlefield—phantoms of Shen Ling appearing and vanishing. The kraken struck one, only for its tendril to pass through harmlessly.
Bo Saixi nodded in approval. "He's guiding the battle—not reacting."
Shen Ling moved again. His eyes glowed deep azure.
"Third Soul Skill: Song of the Abyssal Trial!"
The entire terrace darkened. A pitch-black tide surged up, swallowing the construct's limbs in momentary paralysis. Chains made of sound and shadow wrapped around its core, weighing it down.
"Sea binding," Sea Spear Douluo muttered. "And judgment. That's not just a skill—it's retribution."
"Fourth Soul Skill: Elegy of the Drowned Crown!"
His voice deepened as if a choir spoke through him. A crown of ghostly coral manifested above his brow. The sea construct paused, confused. For a moment, it lowered its tendrils, trembling.
Then it roared.
The dome cracked slightly from the force.
The Seven Douluo stood, eyes sharp.
"He isn't done," Bo Saixi murmured.
"Innate Skill: Voice of the Abyss!"
Shen Ling extended a hand. The water surrounding him dimmed, and the kraken staggered—its mind assaulted by primal dread.
Then, as the sea fell into total silence—
"Innate Skill: Song of Aeloria."
The entire terrace shimmered. His body lifted slightly off the ground, wrapped in music and mist. The illusions returned, but now they sang with him.
And all at once, the kraken construct shattered into mist.
Bo Saixi rose slowly.
"…It submitted."
"No," said Sea Dragon Douluo. "It remembered."
The trial ended, but the song lingered. Shen Ling stood in the stillness once more, breathing slowly, drenched in sea aura, his presence heavier than ever.
Sea Ghost Douluo stepped forward, voice solemn. "Your enemies won't only face power. They will face legacy."
Bo Saixi met his gaze.
"And we must now face the future."
The echoes of the shattered sea construct had not yet faded when Shen Ling turned toward the seven Titled Douluo, the residual mist curling around his ankles like a cloak of memory. The terrace was quiet, but it was not the quiet of peace—it was awe.
Bo Saixi was the first to break the silence, though her voice trembled beneath the weight of her thoughts. "What you've done here, child, is not merely a display of power. It is a declaration to the sea itself."
Shen Ling remained still, his breathing steady, his eyes slowly dimming from their divine luminescence. "It wasn't only power," he said. "Each song I sang... I remembered a voice that wasn't mine."
Sea Star Douluo stepped forward, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"The Siren," Shen Ling replied softly. "And something deeper. It's like the sea remembers through me. The songs... they aren't mine alone."
Sea Ghost Douluo circled him once before stopping at his back. "This is why your soul skills twist memory and emotion. They are not just martial soul abilities—they are echoes of past oaths."
Bo Saixi knelt beside Shen Ling, her hand on his shoulder. "You carry not just power, but history. And history is heavy."
He looked at her, then at the others. "Then teach me how to carry it without sinking."
Sea Dragon Douluo chuckled softly. "A wise thing to say for someone who commands the ocean's rage."
Sea Spear Douluo added, "And the ocean's sorrow."
The conversation shifted into something gentler. Shen Ling, once standing alone beneath the pressure of prophecy, now stood with those who understood.
Later that evening, within the sanctuary's inner sanctum, the Seven Douluo gathered around a mist-veiled pool known as the Whispering Mirror. Shen Ling knelt once again in the center, this time by invitation—not for trial, but for prophecy.
Bo Saixi raised both arms, calling the water to swirl. From its ripples emerged fragments of light, shapes, and sounds—past, present, and perhaps future.
"We do not often consult this mirror," she explained, "for it does not show fate. It shows only what the sea remembers."
The others closed their eyes. But Shen Ling watched.
In the mirror he saw shapes: a figure with coral hair and pearl-like tears; a throne drowned in moonlight; a storm that sang.
And then, in the distance of the water's memory, a song.
It was not his voice. It was hers—the Siren's. And she sang for him.
"Why now?" he whispered.
Sea Fantasy Douluo opened her eyes. "Because the sea is no longer waiting for your arrival. It's beginning to respond."
He lowered his head. "Then what must I do next?"
Bo Saixi looked to the others, who nodded.
"You must go where even memory fears to tread. There is one more voice you must awaken before your next ring."
The Whispering Mirror stilled.
"And that voice," Sea Ghost Douluo said, "does not sing. It weeps."
The sea breeze whispered through the high arches of the Sea God's sanctuary, but none spoke. Shen Ling stood at the edge of the Whispering Mirror, his reflection distorted in the gently trembling waters. Behind him, the Seven Douluo waited, their silence not from hesitation, but from reverence.
"Do you understand what it means to hear the voice that weeps?" Bo Saixi asked softly, her robes brushing the stone floor like waves against the shore.
Shen Ling didn't answer immediately. He knelt once again, his fingers ghosting the surface of the pool. The memories that had danced there earlier—the Siren's lament, the throne in moonlight—lingered in his mind. But now, the water stirred with something else. Something deeper. Something... wounded.
"I don't understand it," he admitted, "but I feel it. Like a wound that isn't mine, but one I carry anyway."
Sea Ghost Douluo stepped forward, her footsteps silent. "That is the beginning. The soul does not remember joy first. It remembers pain. That's how the ocean writes history—through the scars it hides beneath the tides."
Sea Dragon Douluo spoke then, his voice like distant thunder. "To hear this voice is not just to awaken power. It is to choose a burden."
Shen Ling looked up. "Then I'll bear it. If I am to be the sea's chosen, I must carry all of it—the songs and the silences."
The waters responded. A ripple pulsed outward from his hand. A slow, mournful hum rose—not one Shen Ling sang, but one that rose from the mirror itself. A lament. A requiem.
The Whispering Mirror glowed.
Sea Fantasy Douluo's eyes widened. "It's opening."
From within the depths of the pool, shadows twisted into shape. An image surfaced: a drowned temple beneath crimson coral, with chained echoes drifting in its halls. A sigil pulsed upon its gates—a crest Shen Ling had never seen, but felt as if it had always belonged to him.
Bo Saixi drew in a sharp breath. "The Abyssal Gate. I had thought it lost..."
Sea Star Douluo whispered, "It wasn't lost. It was waiting. For him."
Shen Ling's vision blurred, overcome not with exhaustion, but resonance. As though his soul recognized something long-forgotten. As though the sea no longer whispered—but screamed.
He collapsed to one knee.
The Seven Douluo surged forward, but Bo Saixi held up a hand. "No. Let him endure it."
From the depths of the mirror came a sound—shards of voices tangled together. Screams. Songs. Promises. Betrayals. The entire lineage of the Siren, echoing within him.
Then—silence.
Shen Ling rose slowly. His eyes burned with sapphire light, his aura heavier than before.
"I saw where the Siren was born," he said. "And what was taken from her."
He looked up at Bo Saixi. "I saw what must be reclaimed."
Bo Saixi stepped forward. Her voice was calm, but her eyes shimmered with emotion. "Then your path is set. The Abyssal Gate awaits. And with it—your next soul ring."
The others bowed.
And the sea, though distant, hummed its agreement.