The great skybell of Qingling Sect echoed once as the nine returning cultivators stepped onto the jade courtyard.
The mountain winds carried their worn robes, and though they had returned victorious, their footsteps were heavy—not with failure, but with the weight of what they had seen.
Inside the Sect's Main Hall, elders and hall masters had already gathered. Scribes stood at the side. Flames flickered in crystal lamps. And silence, sharp as a sword edge, filled the air.
Ling Xuanye and his companions stood before the assembly.
The moment they arrived, questions erupted like thunder across the mountaintop hall.
"Why were elite disciples dispatched without permission?!"
"This was a tournament for youth cultivation—not a battlefield!"
"Rules were broken. That cannot be ignored!"
The voices bore more tension than true anger. These were cultivators who had faced many threats—but the whisper of chaos always made men seek blame first.
Sect Master Lin Tianyan sat silently at the head of the hall, robes of deep sapphire and starlight, eyes calm like still water.
He let them speak.
Then, an elder from the Soul Scripture Hall stood with furrowed brows.
"Whatever the violations... the more pressing matter is this—how did such high-level demons reach so close to our territory?"
"The blood qi was ancient. And the formation beneath the Infernal Hall was not of this era."
He looked to the others.
"This wasn't an isolated event. This was a signal. Something is stirring beneath the heavens."
A murmur swept the hall. Fear now danced alongside frustration.
Sect Master Lin rose slowly, voice low and clear:
"I agree. And I will not ignore what has been seen."
He turned to the full assembly of elders, disciples, and hall leaders.
"One month from today, Qingling Sect will host a Grand Inter-Sect Tournament on sacred ground."
Gasps filled the chamber.
"Every sect shall be invited. Every hall shall participate. Not for glory—but for preparation."
"Disciples will duel, not to defeat each other—but to sharpen one another. A storm is coming, and blades must be ready."
There was a pause.
Then—one by one—heads began to nod.
Reluctance faded into resolve.
The meeting was adjourned, and silence fell once more.
🌿 A Private Summons
As the elders dispersed, Sect Master Lin turned to two of the returning cultivators.
"Xuanye. Su Feilí. Come with me."
They followed him through the carved jade corridors of Qingling's inner palace—into the Sect Master's private residence.
Within the calm, lantern-lit chamber, a woman waited.
Her robes were pure white, her eyes soft as spring rain, her spiritual aura delicate yet firm. She turned—and when her gaze met Xuanye's…
Her hands flew to her mouth, trembling.
"Xuanye… my son…"
Xuanye's mother.
She rushed forward, embracing him tightly. The weight of a thousand fears fell away in that instant.
"You reckless boy! Why did you go? Why didn't anyone stop you?! What if—what if—!"
He gently patted her back. "I'm fine, Mother… I'm here."
Sect Master Lin watched silently for a moment, then smiled faintly. His wife had always been the heart he could not replace.
She turned to him and scolded:
"And you! You let him go!"
"If he gets himself killed, you better bring him back from the heavens!"
The Sect Master raised both hands.
"I'll accept my punishment later."
When calm returned, Lin gestured for the two disciples to sit.
The laughter faded.
"Now," he said, voice quiet but firm. "Tell me what truly happened."
Xuanye nodded.
He recounted the story—not just the battles and illusions, but the feeling. The overwhelming madness. The presence he couldn't describe. And most of all—the dreams.
"They're getting worse," he admitted, fingers clenching. "Sometimes they start when I'm awake. Scenes of war… screaming… entire worlds burning."
"The pressure builds in my head like thunder… as if it'll explode from within. I try to suppress it… but I can't."
He looked up. "It's not just a nightmare."
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then Lin Tianyan stood.
He approached Xuanye slowly, and placed his palm over his son's chest.
Closed his eyes.
A soft golden light spread across his hand.
And what he saw—
Was not a typical Essence Integration Core.
Most cultivators formed crystalline golden spheres—glowing cores of compressed Qi.
But Xuanye's was shaped like a shifting lotus, surrounded by silent thunder, veined in black ink and divine flame. Its rhythm pulsed with something deeper than mortal Qi.
A core seen once in a millennium, and only spoken of in ancient sealed scrolls.
He stepped back.
"You've taken a rare step," he said softly. "And the dreams? They might not be dreams at all."
Xuanye looked up in alarm.
But Lin quickly smiled, covering the tension behind his gaze.
"Breakthroughs often bring illusions," he said lightly. "Your body's adjusting. As for your core…"
He glanced to Su Feilí, who watched quietly, expression unreadable.
"It's powerful. Stable. You've done well."
He placed a hand on Xuanye's shoulder.
"You are a child unlike any born in this sect for generations. Perhaps… this is fate."
Xuanye didn't know whether to feel comforted or more afraid.
But he nodded.
And for now, the weight lifted just enough.
To be continued...