The next morning, long before the first streak of amber cut through the dark, Caleb was already moving. He stoked the embers of his stove, swallowed a bowl of lukewarm porridge with mechanical efficiency, and stepped out into the biting morning air.
He didn't want to miss a single second.
To anyone else, this was a tradition; to Caleb, it was the climax of a six-year prologue. He knew the lore of this world—the "lowest floor" of high-fantasy, yet a "ceiling" of martial arts. A land where hidden weapons could slay gods and spirit rings functioned with the cold logic of a game. He quickened his pace toward the village center.
The Spirit Hall of Oakheart Village was little more than a sturdy timber cabin. It sat empty most of the year, save for the periodic dusting provided by the village head. Now, a small crowd had gathered: children fidgeting with their collars and parents wearing expressions of desperate hope. Caleb offered his signature, dull-witted smile as he joined the line, masking the sharp anticipation behind his eyes.
Arthur arrived shortly after, his face uncharacteristically grim. He counted the heads twice before addressing the group. "Stay where you are. Do not wander. A Lord Spirit Master from Spirit Hall could arrive at any moment. If you miss your chance because you were off chasing butterflies, the consequences are yours to bear."
The silence that followed was heavy. For these families, this wasn't just a ceremony; it was the only exit ramp from a life of backbreaking labor.
An hour passed. Necks strained toward the road until, finally, a figure appeared.
The man moved with a swift, predatory grace. He wore a crisp white suit paired with a flowing black cloak. A stylized "Spirit" character was embroidered over his heart, flanked by three silver swords on his lapel. He was tall and handsome, though his brow was knit in a permanent mask of exhaustion.
Arthur hurried forward, bowing lower than he ever had to any village elder. "Lord Spirit Master, we are honored. The children are prepared."
The man gave a curt nod, his gaze sweeping over the youngsters. "I am on a tight schedule. I have other villages to visit today. Children, inside. Now."
Caleb and five other children filed into the dim wood-paneled room. In the center, the Spirit Master unpacked six mysterious black stones, arranging them into a hexagonal star on the floor.
"My name is Su Yuntao," the man said, his voice echoing in the small space. "I am a Rank 26 Battle Spirit Master of Spirit Hall. I am here to awaken your potential. No matter what you see, do not scream. Do not run."
Caleb's heart thundered against his ribs. Su Yuntao! The legendary Beginner-Zone Guide. If he's here, my luck is set. I'm definitely walking out of here with Spirit Power.
"Lone Wolf, Possess!" Su Yuntao roared.
A gust of pale green wind exploded from his center. His muscles groaned and expanded, tearing at the seams of his sleeves. Coarse, grey-brown fur sprouted across his skin, his snout elongated, and his fingernails sharpened into obsidian claws. Two shimmering rings of light—one white, one yellow—rose from beneath his feet, orbiting his transformed body.
The other children shrieked, scrambling back toward the walls. Su Yuntao sighed through his fangs. "I told you not to fear. This is my Beast Spirit. If any of you possess one, you will undergo a similar change. Now... who is first?"
While the others hesitated, Caleb stepped into the center of the stone array. "Grandmaster Su, please. I'm ready."
Su Yuntao grunted, impressed by the boy's grit. He raised a clawed hand, channeling his Spirit Power into the stones. "Focus. Feel the warmth within you."
Caleb didn't need the prompt. He felt as if he had stepped into a hot spring. A golden current surged through his veins, swirling from his toes to his chest before rushing toward his right palm.
White light erupted.
A cluster of long, thin leaves sprouted from Caleb's hand. Everyone leaned in, Su Yuntao most of all. He stared at the plant for a long beat, his wolf-like ears twitching.
"Blue Silver Grass?" Su Yuntao sounded disappointed. "It looks... sturdier than usual, more upright, but it's definitely Blue Silver Grass. A useless spirit."
He sighed, pulling a translucent crystal ball from his bag. "Close your hand to retract it. Now, place your palm here. Let's see if you even have a drop of Spirit Power."
Caleb pulled the grass back into his soul and pressed his hand to the cold glass. Instantly, he felt a vacuum-like tug. The crystal ball flickered, then began to glow with a steady, clear light. It wasn't blinding, but it was undeniable.
Su Yuntao froze. He looked at the ball, then at Caleb, then back at the ball. "Spirit Power... Rank 3? My own talent was only Rank 2 at your age, and I didn't have a trash spirit like Blue Silver Grass."
Caleb took the news in silence. He knew exactly what this meant. Caleb: Spirit Power Rank 3. Spirit: Blue Silver Grass. The classic 'trash' protagonist template.
But in his mind, he was already calculating. Rank 3 wasn't the "Full Spirit Power" of a god, but it was a ticket. It meant he could cultivate. It meant he could reach Rank 30 and become a Spirit Elder. For a farm boy from Oakheart Village, the ceiling of the world had just been shattered.