He raised his eyes in suspicion. He looked around with caution flickering in his eyes and then took the first step, then the second, then third, fourth and finally fifth.
And as expected, it felt...normal.
"Looks like the array truly shattered. Such terrifying strength...."
Xian Li's heart spoke up inwardly. Even if he did not witness anything related to strength in the shadow, the movements, the precision, the effortlessness... made it clear.
He stared at the shadow and started walking towards it with a slow pace, afraid of any hidden danger which might be lurking in here as 'tests'.
But just as his sixth step landed upon the grassland, the world around his suddenly 'shifted'.
The shadow took a final glanced at him and then something unimaginable happened.
The shadow before him began to ripple like disturbed water, and from within its depths, countless reflections of himself emerged, each one wielding a different weapon, each one bearing a different expression. Some looked proud and arrogant, others appeared humble and determined, while a few displayed nothing but cold indifference.
"The Test of Inner Demons,"
Xian Li whispered, recognizing the ancient trial from the scrolls he had studied years ago.
"So there was another layer..."
The air grew thick with spiritual pressure as all the reflections began to circle him, their weapons gleaming with deadly intent. This was not a test of strength or skill—this was a test of character, a trial that would force him to confront every version of himself he had ever been, and choose which one would face whatever lay beyond the shadow.
Xian Li's grip tightened on his blade as he steadied his breathing.
He took a deep breath but suddenly something struck his mind.
It were words. Words spoken by his Master when he left him-
"Be kind, for you are a human. Be courageous, for you are a swordsman. Be respectful, for you are not yet the strongest. Be proud, for you are..... The Chosen One!"
He muttered these worrds and a trace of smile appeared on his face. The first reflection struck without warning.
Xian Li's arrogant self lunged forward, blade gleaming with familiar technique. But something was different now. Instead of meeting force with greater force, Xian Li stepped aside. His movement was water- smooth, natural, unhurried.
"Still too proud,"
He said quietly, deflecting the strike.The arrogant reflection snarled and pressed harder. Each swing carried old habits—the flashy moves he once used to show off, the overwhelming spiritual energy meant to intimidate rather than defeat efficiently.
Xian Li watched calmly. He had used these same techniques to humiliate disciples, to prove his superiority. Now he saw their weakness: too much showing off, not enough substance.
His counter came swift and clean. No wasted motion. No excess power. Just perfect timing and precise placement. The arrogant reflection dissolved like morning mist.The second reflection approached—the prideful one carrying a spear.
"Remember how they worshipped you?"
It sneered.
"How entire sects bowed before your name?"
The spear thrust came fast as lightning. But Xian Li had learned to read his own patterns. He caught the weapon between blade and sheath, using the attack's momentum against itself.
"I remember."
He said softly while maintaining his posture and a faint smile.
"But I also remeber what it costs."
This time his technique was different. Not overwhelming agg, but power with wisdom. Power with restraint. The prideful reflection found itself outmatched not by superior force, but by better understanding.
It faded with something like respect in its eyes.
The third reflection was the hardest to face.
It moved like death itself—cold, efficient, emotionless. Twin daggers flashed in mechanical precision. This was him after the fall, when feeling nothing seemed better than feeling pain.
No matter what, Xian Li could not find any weakness in it, any chance to counter.
"Numbness is better."
It spoke up with a winter chill voice.
"Caring only brings hurt."
The daggers came for his heart. But Xian Li did something unexpected.
He lowered his guard.
"You're right,"
He whispered, tears beginning to fall.
"I did stop caring. But that wasn't strength—it was just another kind of death."
The daggers stopped inches from his chest.
"I choose to feel again,"
He said, gently touching the reflection's shoulders with warmth.
"Even if it hurts. Because without feeling, victory means nothing."
The cold reflection's mask cracked. For the first time, its eyes showed something other than emptiness. They showed relief. As it dissolved, it whispered a single word:
"Thank you."
The remaining reflections stepped back and bowed-not in worship, but in acknowledgment.
From the depths of shadow, the Shadow from which his reflections came from finally emerged. It wore his face but carried the weight of lifetimes in its eyes.
Xian Li smiled but suddenly his eyes went blank. And..
He fell unconcious!