Chapter 89: The Sigh of Ice and Fire!

There are no miracles in this world; they are merely self-consolation.

If... waiting could bring about a miracle, I would rather keep waiting, even if it takes a year, a decade, or a lifetime.

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Douluo Continent, Cangbei City.

Three great clans are situated here: the Ling Clan, the Xiao Clan, and the Ye Clan.

A boy is curled up in a silk quilt, yet fine beads of sweat seep from his forehead.

He had a strange dream—he dreamed of a giant angel watching him, and scorching flames burning his eyes.

"Qiye?" His mother Ye Qingrou's cool hand brushed his cheek, but she suddenly pulled her finger back, scalded. "Why are you so hot?"

Ling Zhantian arrived upon hearing the sound, his Mystic Nether Spear martial soul manifesting automatically, causing a layer of frost to descend within the room. Strangely, those ice crystals turned into wisps of white vapor as they neared Ling Qiye.

"Tomorrow is the Spirit Awakening Ceremony." Ye Qingrou's voice trembled. "Could this child's martial soul have..."

Ling Zhantian pressed his hand against his son's burning forehead, his Spirit Douluo-level soul power probing into the meridians, and his expression suddenly changed drastically.

He abruptly pulled open Ling Qiye's collar, only to see a golden wing pattern emerging beneath the boy's collarbone.

"This is... an Angel Wing?" the two exclaimed in unison.

Time arrives at the next day.

The early morning in Cangbei City always carries a bit of bitterness, especially in late autumn, when even the white breath exhaled can form tiny frost flowers on one's eyebrows.

Ling Qiye stands on the bluestone slab in front of the Ling Family Ancestral Hall, yet he cannot feel a hint of cold; in fact, there is even a trace of dry heat on his body.

Today is his sixth birthday, and more importantly, the big day of his martial soul awakening.

"Qiye, don't be nervous." His mother Ye Qingrou crouches down to straighten his collar, which is embroidered with ice patterns. The pale blue soul power flowing from her fingertips disperses the surrounding chill. "Just like Mother taught you, use your heart to feel the martial soul within your body."

Ling Qiye nods, but his gaze drifts involuntarily toward the statue of the ancestor at the entrance of the ancestral hall.

The statue holds a long spear pointing to the sky, with eternal black ice congealing at the spear tip. That is the symbol of the Ling family's martial soul passed down for three hundred years—the Mystic Nether Spear.

"Among this generation of the Ling family, Qiye has the best aptitude." The Great Elder strokes his beard, his eyes full of affection as he looks at Ling Qiye.

"The Third Elder used the Soul Observation Technique to look, and it is truly astonishing that this child Qiye could influence the outside world before his martial soul even awakened."

Yet Ling Qiye's father, Ling Zhantian, stands to the side with a grave expression, saying nothing.

Dozens of people have already gathered in front of the ancestral hall. Besides the direct descendants of the Ling family, there are also a few outsiders wearing white robes—Deacons sent by the Spirit Hall of Cangbei City to be in charge of the awakening.

Ling Qiye notices that people from the Ye Clan have also come, and that little girl from the Ye Clan who always loves to pull his braid is hiding behind the adults, making faces at him.

"The time has come!"

That's all for now; those interested, come and support quickly!

Book Title: "Douluo: Martial Soul Seraphim, Miracle Descends"

(End of this chapter)