The ancient voice faded, yet the weight it left behind remained.
Myriad Halls Plaza remained silent. Nearly five hundred cultivators stood beneath the sealed halls, yet for several breaths, not even the proudest among them moved carelessly. The dark jade beneath their feet was smooth and cold, and the countless closed doors around the plaza looked as if they had been waiting long before any of them were born.
Then the ancient voice sounded again.
"Those who bore the flame have entered the Myriad Halls. One hundred and twenty levels await. All shall begin from the first level."
The words did not echo loudly. They entered the ears cleanly and settled into the heart with a pressure that made even noisy cultivators hold their tongues.
"Each level is a single battle inside a closed chamber. Companions may not enter. Treasures may be used. Pills may be used. Methods may be used. Victory shall be judged by the hall. Defeat may be admitted by will or word. Those who admit defeat in time shall be returned to the plaza. Those who refuse defeat shall bear the consequence."
No one needed to ask what that consequence meant.
Several disciples who had been eager a moment ago became much calmer. In cultivation, there were always people who thought courage meant refusing to lower their heads. Places like this were built to teach them the price of that mistake.
"After passing a level, one may proceed to the next or return to Myriad Halls Plaza to rest. Attempts require no offering. Failure gives no reward. Passing a level grants a basic reward. Every fifth level grants a greater reward."
At those words, the atmosphere subtly changed.
Greed did not appear loudly. It moved in the eyes first. A glance here. A tightening hand there. A disciple from a medium sect swallowed once before pretending he had only adjusted his breathing. Even some major sect disciples became more focused. Basic rewards were useful, but a greater reward from a place like this could change a person's path.
The ancient voice continued without caring for their thoughts.
"The battle within the chamber shall not be shown to those outside. Myriad Halls Plaza shall record only the result. Pass. Fail. Death. Current level. Enter when you choose. The halls shall receive you."
The moment the final word fell, the plaza changed.
The sealed walls around Myriad Halls Plaza trembled, and countless dark doors emerged from the ancient stone. They did not open from ordinary corridors. They unfolded from layered space, one row behind another, stretching along the edge of the plaza until the eye could not count them clearly. Above every door floated a small jade plaque. Each plaque carried the same words.
Level One.
Fang Lin did not release his divine sense widely. The moment the doors appeared, his soul felt a faint warning. The space behind those doors was folded too deeply. If he tried to look through them by force, he might not see the trial. He might only make the trial notice him.
That would be stupid.
He withdrew the small thread of soul perception he had released and kept his expression calm.
Feng Jiu'er stood beside him, her white-red robes still carrying dust from Broken Ravine. Her gaze moved across the doors, then across the cultivators. She did not look relieved. A place that allowed endless attempts and hid every battle was not generous. It was patient.
Su Wanqing lowered her voice. "No one outside can see the fight. That means every group will send people in to test the rules."
"Not the important ones first," Feng Jiu'er said.
Fang Lin glanced toward the major sect groups. "The important ones are waiting for others to buy information with blood."
Su Wanqing's eyes moved slightly, but she did not refute him.
Heavenly Sword Lake's disciples had already gathered around Jian Wuchen. Their silver-blue sword robes formed a clean line, and none of them stepped toward the trial doors. Scarlet Sun Palace disciples stood beneath their red-gold glow, beautiful and fierce, but equally unmoving. Black Tortoise Mountain's group looked even steadier. Xuan Beihai stood like a dark cliff, his arms folded, his eyes on the plaques rather than the rewards.
Moon Reflection Valley, Ancient Beast Hall, Silent Night Pavilion, Hundred Formation Tower, Pill Dawn Sect, and Demon Suppression Temple all did the same thing in their own ways.
They watched.
The first to move were not the famous names.
A young cultivator from a smaller sect laughed loudly, perhaps because his hands were trembling and he did not want others to notice. "It is only the first level. If we hesitate even here, why did we enter the Rivercloud Demon Sealing Ruins at all?"
No one stopped him.
He strode toward one of the doors. The moment his palm touched the dark jade surface, the plaque above the door lit up. His body blurred and vanished into the chamber without sound.
A second cultivator entered from another side. Then a third. Then more began moving, some alone, some after receiving quiet instructions from their sect seniors. The doors swallowed them one by one. Since there were countless halls, no one needed to wait. Each person who entered was taken by a separate door, and each plaque changed from Level One to Trial Active.
The plaza did not show what happened inside.
That only made the waiting worse.
A few breaths later, the first cultivator was thrown out.
He landed hard on the dark jade ground with blood running from his shoulder to his fingers. His robe had been torn open from the collarbone down to the upper arm, and four deep claw marks smoked faintly as if something hot had scraped him. He was alive, but his face had no color left.
The plaque above the door dimmed.
Fail.
A companion rushed forward to help him up. "What was inside?"
The wounded cultivator opened his mouth, then froze. His face twisted as if some force had pressed against his throat. After several breaths, he forced out only one sentence. "Do not wait too long to admit defeat."
The plaza became quieter.
Soon after, another door flashed with pale light. A different cultivator stepped out on his own feet, breathing hard but alive. A thin jade slip appeared before him and floated into his hand. The plaque above the door showed a single word.
Pass.
The man stared at the jade slip, joy flashing across his face. Before he could speak, the slip vanished into his storage treasure as if the hall itself had finished the transaction. Some nearby disciples looked at him with curiosity and greed, but he immediately retreated behind his sect's seniors and said nothing.
Then a third door darkened.
No one came out.
The plaque above it flickered once, and the word Death appeared for only a breath before disappearing.
The cultivators near that door stepped back at the same time.
The ancient voice did not explain. The hall did not return a corpse. It did not return a storage pouch. It did not return a weapon. One moment, a person had entered. A short while later, only a result remained.
That alone was enough.
Gu Man of Ancient Beast Hall suddenly laughed, though his laughter was lower than before. "Good. This place has teeth."
Chi Yao of Scarlet Sun Palace glanced at him from beneath red-gold sleeves. "If you like teeth so much, why are you still standing outside?"
Gu Man only grinned. "Because I prefer watching whose hand gets bitten first."
Chi Yao gave him a cold smile. "For once, your head is useful for more than blocking weapons."
Several Ancient Beast Hall disciples looked offended, but Gu Man only laughed again. It was not loud enough to break the pressure of the plaza, yet it loosened the air around them by a little.
Fang Lin did not look at them for long. His attention shifted toward Heavenly Sword Lake.
Xu Hanjiang had moved quickly.
He stood slightly behind Jian Wuchen, not close enough to seem presumptuous, but close enough that others could see River Sword Sect had placed itself under Heavenly Sword Lake's shadow. His posture was respectful, his face calm, and the hatred he held toward Fang Lin had been hidden so well that someone careless might think he had already let the matter go.
Fang Lin knew otherwise.
Xu Hanjiang said something softly. His lips moved only once or twice, and the sound was covered by the murmurs around the trial doors. Fang Lin did not force his soul perception too far, but he caught enough from the movement of Xu Hanjiang's expression and Jian Wuchen's brief glance.
The seeds of poison were being planted quietly.
A rogue cultivator with hidden origins. A man who had taken several treasures. A man who had offended more than one sect. A man protected for now by Green Bamboo Sect and soon perhaps by Thousand Leaf Immortal Sect.
None of those words needed to be entirely false to become useful.
Jian Wuchen looked toward Fang Lin for a brief moment. His gaze carried no obvious hostility, only the cold measuring quality of a sword cultivator who had heard that a blade existed and was deciding whether it deserved to be drawn against.
Fang Lin met that gaze calmly, then looked away first.
Not because he feared it.
Because staring back too long would give Xu Hanjiang exactly what he wanted.
A soft green-white light approached from the side.
Ye Qinglan walked over with several Thousand Leaf Immortal Sect disciples behind her. Her robes were clean despite everything that had happened inside the Rivercloud Demon Sealing Ruins, layered with pale leaf patterns that moved faintly when her aura shifted. She did not walk quickly, but the nearby cultivators naturally made space for her.
Feng Jiu'er turned toward her and cupped her hands. "Senior Sister Ye."
Ye Qinglan returned the gesture. "Junior Sister Feng. I heard part of what happened at Broken Ravine."
Feng Jiu'er's expression did not change much. "Then you heard enough to know that Green Bamboo Sect's Alliance side owes Thousand Leaf Immortal Sect thanks for restraining Demon Suppression Temple."
"You may thank me after we leave this place alive." Ye Qinglan's gaze moved to Su Wanqing. "You are injured?"
"Not seriously," Su Wanqing said.
"Good." Ye Qinglan looked toward Fang Lin next. "And this should be Fellow Daoist Shen Mo, the Silent Mountain Sword."
The title drew a few eyes from nearby cultivators. Not many, but enough. In Myriad Halls Plaza, every name was weighed differently now. A nickname earned in the outer region might not dominate among major sect monsters, but it still proved the person had done something worth remembering.
Fang Lin cupped his hands. "Names travel faster than feet. I did not expect mine to arrive beside Senior Sister Ye."
Ye Qinglan's lips curved faintly. "In the Rivercloud Demon Sealing Ruins, names that survive several fights usually have legs of their own."
Feng Jiu'er glanced at Fang Lin. "Some names also collect trouble."
Fang Lin looked at her with a slight smile. "Then I am fortunate to be standing beside people who look skilled at handling trouble."
Su Wanqing lowered her gaze as if she had not heard anything.
Ye Qinglan's smile deepened by a trace. Feng Jiu'er's eyes cooled, but the tips of her ears carried a faint warmth that vanished almost as soon as it appeared.
"You speak very easily for someone surrounded by major sect disciples," Feng Jiu'er said.
"I speak carefully," Fang Lin replied. "It only sounds easy when no one has drawn a sword yet."
Ye Qinglan watched the two of them for a breath, then spoke as if she had seen nothing. "Green Bamboo Sect is under Thousand Leaf Immortal Sect. In Myriad Halls Plaza, you should stand with us. Fellow Daoist Shen, you entered with them and fought beside them. If you have no other alliance, you may also stand with us for now."
Fang Lin did not hesitate long enough to look arrogant, nor accept so quickly that he looked desperate. "Then I will trouble Senior Sister Ye."
"Do not call it trouble yet," Ye Qinglan said. "The trouble has not started."
That sentence suited the place almost too well.
The Thousand Leaf Immortal Sect disciples spread out slightly, not forming a wall, but making their position clear. Feng Jiu'er, Su Wanqing, and Fang Lin moved naturally into their side. It was not surrendering independence. It was choosing a tree before the storm tested which branches would snap.
Across the plaza, Kong Mingyuan's prayer beads moved again.
His gaze passed over Su Wanqing's storage treasure only once. He did not speak. In front of Ye Qinglan, Feng Jiu'er, Shen Mo, and nearly every marked elite in the Rivercloud Demon Sealing Ruins, saintly words would not be enough to seize anything. Not yet.
Fang Lin noticed that look and remembered it.
More cultivators entered the Level One halls. Some returned with basic rewards. Some failed and staggered out with wounds on their arms, thighs, backs, or faces. One young woman came back with half her hair burned away and still laughed because she had passed. Another disciple was ejected with both hands shaking so badly he could not hold his sword. A third crawled away from the door and vomited black blood before his companions dragged him behind their group.
The major sect disciples continued watching.
This was not cowardice. It was calculation.
Every injury told them something. Every pass time told them something. Every person who refused to explain told them something too.
Luo Qianji of Hundred Formation Tower smiled while counting time under his breath. Su Lianxue of Pill Dawn Sect observed the wounds more than the rewards. Ning Shuang stood in shadow and looked at the doors as if listening for sounds no one else could hear. Mo Yuanli did not move, but his iron-wrapped wrists flexed once when the word Death appeared above another hall.
Qin Xiaodie, standing among the rogue cultivators, looked at the reward jade slips with bright eyes. Then she looked at the people returning without storage pouches from those who died, and her brightness dimmed into caution.
Even merchants knew when a bargain was not worth making.
Ye Qinglan spoke quietly. "No one from our side enters yet. We shall watch at least for ten more attempts."
A Thousand Leaf disciple nodded immediately.
Feng Jiu'er agreed without argument. Su Wanqing's eyes remained on the doors, memorizing every result. Fang Lin stood beside them, calm and silent, his black flame mark hidden beneath his sleeve.
The mark was not burning now.
It waited.
Another plaque lit up with Pass. Another showed Fail. A third remained dark for several breaths before Death appeared and vanished.
Myriad Halls Plaza absorbed the reactions without changing. Fear, greed, ambition, caution, arrogance, restraint; all of it gathered beneath the ancient dome like incense before an unseen altar.
Fang Lin looked at the countless doors.
Feng Jiu'er's voice came softly beside him. "What do you think?"
He did not answer immediately.
A trial that hid the battle, allowed endless attempts, rewarded every step, and punished late surrender was not merely testing strength. It was also testing judgment. The strongest person was not always the one who advanced fastest. Sometimes it was the one who understood when not to let others see what he could do.
Fang Lin's gaze remained calm.
"Lets watch a little longer before entering." he said.
Feng Jiu'er glanced at him, then looked back toward the doors.
For once, she did not disagree.