At sunrise, Celestial Academy's sprawling grounds glistened with dew. The academy's jade-hued halls and pristine courtyards exuded an almost divine order—a stark contrast to the turbulent passions that hummed beneath the surface. Within this high realm of polished ambitions, the first-class prodigies continued their silent contest of superiority.
Across the continent, however, a different scene unfolded. On a rugged, windswept road bordered by barren golden grasslands and craggy, ruddy mountains, the modest compound of Foundations for All Academy emerged in rustic contrast to Celestial's grandeur. Here, plain but resolute, those fated to forge unconventional paths labored without pretense.
From that far-off road, a solitary carriage creaked into view. Its worn wheels bore the scars of hardship, and from it stepped **Yinmo**—a silent enigma once scorned as the "waste" of Moonveil Clan. His attire was humble, his expression reflective yet firmly determined. The bruises and scars of past battles whispered of a power that lay hidden beneath his unremarkable exterior. In his eyes shimmered the elusive glint of forbidden art—the darkness of necromancy, balanced with an undercurrent of life, that had surged within him in the heat of battle.
Back at Celestial Academy, the arrival of the beast emissary **Xìng Rùn** had left a palpable stir. Among the polished ranks of the elite human candidates, the announcement reawakened old rivalries and sparked new fears. In hushed conversations along intricate corridors, voices from the Yingxiao faction speculated about what this integration of magical beast blood would portend. Meanwhile, the proud candidates of the Baiyun, Hualin, and Fengyun clans exchanged guarded glances—each aware that the arrival of an emissary bearing such unfathomable promise threatened to upend the ancient order.
Inside the high halls, while laughter and formal pleasantries continued, an undercurrent of tension took hold. Some even whispered, half in admiration and half in disquiet: "If the beasts can send forth a prodigy like **Xìng Rùn**, what does that mean for our long-held beliefs in purity? What about those who are born without a clear elemental spark?"
As the revelry and orchestrated merriment persisted in the ornate courts of Celestial Academy, the stark contrast was laid bare by the unfolding destinies. On that rugged road, Yinmo's solitary footsteps symbolized a path of raw potential unbound by tradition. With every measured step toward Foundations for All Academy, he challenged centuries-old doctrines—his every scar and every remembered blow a testament to a power that defied conventional expectation.