The morning sun hung low on the horizon, its golden hue spilling across the vast plain at the base of White Crane Mountain. Mist clung to the cliff face, a shifting veil that hid the endless stone steps stretching upward into the clouds. Beneath it, a sea of humanity surged—thousands of aspiring cultivators, each tense, each hungry, each ready to stake their fate on this climb.
The murmur of voices rippled across the crowd. Some sharpened their focus with meditation; others fidgeted, whispering nervously.
"Do you think it's true? That even reaching halfway is enough to secure outer disciple status?" one youth muttered, his voice tight with anticipation.
"Tch. Halfway?" another scoffed, gripping the hilt of his sword. "Only weaklings settle for scraps. I'll walk to the very top."
Laughter came from behind. "Big words. Let's see if you're still standing after fifty steps."
Before any reply came, the air above stirred. A shadow swept through the mist—vast wings unfurling against the rising sun. The crowd fell silent as a colossal white crane descended, its feathers gleaming like polished jade. Upon its back stood the Examiner, a tall man in flowing white robes, his face carved in cold indifference.
With a flick of his wrist, the crane alighted upon the ground. The man dismounted without a word, his gaze sweeping across the gathered thousands. His expression betrayed nothing but faint disdain, as though their presence alone was a nuisance.
He raised one hand. Reality itself seemed to shiver. With a sound like rushing wind, brown sacks materialized before each cultivator, dropping into their hands with a heavy thud. Gasps spread as many staggered under the sudden weight, some nearly falling.
The Examiner's voice rolled across the plain, sharp and unyielding.
"Your task is simple. Climb. Reach the gates of White Crane Sect before sundown. Should any of you find this too much…" His eyes narrowed, his tone dripping with scorn. "…turn back now. No shame in admitting weakness—only in dying pointlessly."
A hush fell. Some tightened their grip on the sacks, others glanced around with unease.
The Examiner's lips curved in the faintest smirk. "Know this: each step you take shall test more than your muscles. It will weigh upon your Qi, your spirit, your very bones. Many of you will fall before the mountain is done with you."
With a dismissive flick of his sleeve, he turned and mounted his crane once more, the beast rising to hover high above. His voice drifted down like the decree of a god.
"Begin."
The first surge of bodies ascended the steps, thousands pressing forward at once. The stone was wide enough to hold dozens abreast, but the crowd soon spread out, a living wave struggling upward.
At first, the climb seemed deceptively easy. The sacks, though heavy, were manageable; chatter even resumed among the bolder ones.
"This isn't so bad," a stocky youth grunted, shifting his load. "I've carried heavier."
"Ha! Wait until we're halfway—then we'll see who breaks!"
But by the twentieth step, a subtle weight pressed against their chests, like an invisible hand bearing down. Breathing grew harder. By the fortieth step, that pressure thickened, sinking into their bones.
On the fiftieth step, a wiry youth staggered, knees buckling. His sack slipped from his grasp, tumbling down the stairs. "No… no, this—this isn't possible!" His legs shook, his body folding under the unseen burden until he collapsed, rolling aside with a broken sob.
Others grit their teeth and pressed forward. The mountain made no sound, offered no explanation—only pressure, ever-increasing.
By the eightieth step, Qi flared across the crowd. Many had no choice but to summon their spiritual energy, their bodies glowing faintly as they resisted the invisible force. For some, it steadied them; for others, it drained them faster than they realized.
A young woman with dark eyes muttered through clenched teeth, "Steady… steady circulation… don't rush." Her movements were disciplined, her steps measured, but sweat slicked her brow.
Near her, a proud youth scoffed, his aura blazing bright as he forced his way up five steps at once. "This? This is nothing!" he boasted—only for his aura to sputter like a dying flame. He stumbled, face pale, collapsing to his knees with a hoarse cry.
Gasps followed. A whisper rippled through those near him: "He… he already ran dry?"
"Fool," muttered another, pushing past. "Strength without control is suicide here."
High above, the Examiner sat cross-legged atop his crane, arms folded. His gaze swept across the struggling figures, dispassionate but faintly amused.
His lips moved, barely audible even to himself.
"That one…" His eyes lingered on the disciplined young woman. "A steady foundation. She'll last."
Another caught his gaze—a tall man brute-forcing his way step by step, veins bulging, sack digging into his shoulders. "Overreliance on muscle. He'll shatter by the one-hundred-thirtieth step."
Finally, his eyes narrowed on a lone figure in dark robes. A mask covered the man's face, his movements smooth, controlled. Unlike the others, his Qi did not flare outward but flowed inward, contained. His sharp, faintly glowing blue eyes glimmered beneath the mask.
"Interesting," the Examiner murmured, his smirk deepening. "Calm… efficient… conserving energy. A dangerous seed, if it sprouts."
By the hundredth step, the climb had become brutal. Pressure pressed down like mountains upon their backs, crushing lungs, grinding joints. Some swore they heard their bones creak. More fell aside, groaning, coughing blood as the sacks pinned them to the stone.
Yet still, thousands remained, struggling upward, each step a battle. The mountain loomed on, its top still hidden in mist, an uncaring judge of their worth.
And through it all, the masked figure ascended in silence, eyes fixed forward, each step taken with unhurried precision—as though the weight of the world itself was nothing more than another burden to be carried.
High above, the Examiner's faint smirk lingered.
"The mountain is cruel. But cruelty reveals the truth."