Chapter 5: The Ranking Stone
The road beyond Yusheng stretched like a ribbon of dust and stone, winding through hills dappled with the faint glow of scattered Red Tiānmài veins. Rin Seiryuu and Amaya Yukihana walked side by side, their steps steady despite the weight of their departure. The cherry blossoms of their village were gone, replaced by wild grasses and the distant hum of stronger spiritual energy. The world of Xianxu opened before them, vast and merciless, its promise of greater Tiānmài—Blue, Purple, even Gold—calling to their ambitions.
Amaya's white hair gleamed under the midday sun, her flute tucked into her sash, its vines pulsing faintly with her tri-elemental aura: Wind, Water, Fire. Her crimson eyes scanned the horizon, alert for danger, her presence a quiet storm of dominance. Rin, his black hair tied back, spun his yo-yo absently, its cyan string flickering with Pseudofire. His cyan eyes were calm but sharp, his mind already tracing the patterns of his Rune and Array Daos, seeking ways to refine his new pull and meteor hammer techniques. They had left Yusheng behind, but the village's doubts clung to them like shadows.
Their destination was Qinglan City, a bustling hub built atop a Blue Tiānmài, where sects scouted talent and cultivators vied for status. Rumors spoke of a Ranking Stone in Qinglan, a monolithic relic that judged a cultivator's power and potential, assigning them a rank tied to the Tiānmài colors. It was said to be impartial, its judgment final, and its verdict could open doors to powerful sects—or close them forever.
As they crested a hill, Qinglan came into view, its walls of polished stone shimmering with blue light. Towers rose like spears, their spires capped with spirit crystals that drank from the Blue Tiānmài's energy. The city buzzed with life—merchants hawking spirit herbs, cultivators sparring in open courtyards, and sect recruiters in silken robes eyeing new arrivals. Rin and Amaya's entrance drew stares. Her elegance and his quiet intensity marked them as outsiders, their torn robes and Yusheng's humble origins a stark contrast to the city's opulence.
"Stay sharp," Amaya murmured, her voice low. "This place eats the weak."
Rin nodded, his yo-yo spinning faster. "Let it try."
They made their way to the city's heart, where the Ranking Stone stood in a vast plaza. The monolith was a towering slab of obsidian, etched with runes that pulsed with every Tiānmài color, from Red to the mythical Rainbow. A crowd of cultivators gathered around it, some eager, others nervous, as a stern woman in green robes—likely a sect official—called names from a scroll. "Next! Li Fen, of the Iron Crane Sect!"
A young man in ornate armor stepped forward, his spear crackling with Lightning element. He placed his hand on the stone, and the runes flared, settling on a vibrant Green glow. The crowd murmured, impressed. "Green rank!" the woman announced. "Mid-tier potential. The Iron Crane Sect will be pleased."
Amaya's eyes narrowed. "Green's high for a city like this," she said. "The stone's harsh."
Rin's gaze was fixed on the monolith. "It's not just power. It's potential, intent, harmony with the Dao. Let's see what it says about us."
When their names were called, the crowd's whispers grew louder. "Yusheng? That backwater with the Red vein?" "Her hair's like snow—must be a prodigy." "Him? What's with the toy?" Rin ignored them, his yo-yo spinning slowly, while Amaya's presence silenced the boldest gossips with a single glance.
Amaya went first, her hand steady as she touched the stone. The runes blazed, cycling through colors—Red, Orange, Yellow, Green—before settling on a deep Blue, tinged with flickers of Purple. The crowd gasped, and the woman's eyes widened. "Blue rank, with traces of Purple potential!" she declared. "A prodigy of the highest order. Name your sect, Yukihana, and they'll beg for you."
Amaya stepped back, her expression unchanged, though her crimson eyes gleamed with pride. She glanced at Rin, a silent challenge in her gaze. Your turn.
Rin approached the stone, his yo-yo tucked into his sleeve. The crowd's murmurs turned to chuckles as they saw it, but he paid them no mind. He placed his hand on the monolith, and the runes flickered erratically, as if confused. Red flashed, then Orange, then a sudden flare of Silver—only to dim abruptly to a dull Yellow. The crowd burst into laughter, and even the woman's lips twitched with amusement.
"Yellow rank!" she announced. "Low-tier potential. Respectable, but… unremarkable."
The jeers grew louder, echoing Yusheng's mockery. "Yellow? With that toy?" "She's Blue, and he's Yellow? What a mismatch!" Amaya's flute hummed, its vines stirring, and the crowd fell silent under her icy glare. But Rin's face was calm, his cyan eyes studying the stone. Yellow? The Silver flash had been brief, but real. The stone had sensed something—his Pseudofire, his triple Daos, his potential—but it had judged him harshly, perhaps because his techniques were unrefined, his weapon unconventional.
Amaya stepped beside him, her voice low. "The stone's wrong. I know your worth."
Rin's lips curved into a faint smile. "It's not wrong. It's just… limited. I'll prove it."
Before they could leave the plaza, a group of cultivators in red-and-black robes approached, their leader a tall man with a scar across his cheek and a glaive that pulsed with Fire element. "Yukihana," he said, his voice smooth but predatory. "I'm Zhao Ren, of the Crimson Viper Sect. A Blue-rank prodigy like you belongs with us. Ditch the Yellow boy and join a sect worthy of your power."
Amaya's sword flashed into her hand, its blade gleaming with Water element. "Speak of him again," she said, her voice a low growl, "and your sect will need a new leader."
Zhao laughed, unfazed, his glaive sparking. "Bold words. Let's see if you can back them up. A duel, prodigy. You and your… toy-wielding husband against me. Winner takes your allegiance."
Rin stepped forward, his yo-yo spinning, its Pseudofire flaring. "You want a fight? You'll get one."
The plaza cleared, cultivators forming a circle as Zhao raised his glaive, its Fire element blazing. Amaya's flute played a sharp, suppressive melody, her Music Dao weaving illusions of swirling flames to disorient Zhao. He smirked, slashing through the illusions with a burst of Fire, the heat scorching the stone beneath their feet. Amaya countered, her sword flashing with Wind and Water, her strikes fluid yet precise, forcing Zhao to parry with his glaive.
Rin moved in tandem, his yo-yo snapping out with a pull technique, the string wrapping around Zhao's ankle. He yanked, throwing Zhao off balance, but the cultivator recovered, his Fire element burning through the string. Rin switched tactics, swinging the yo-yo as a meteor hammer, its core blazing with Pseudofire. The weight struck Zhao's shoulder, the ghostly flame disrupting his spiritual energy, making him stagger.
Zhao roared, his glaive unleashing a wave of Fire that forced Amaya back. She countered with a Fire-infused sword strike, the clash sending sparks flying. Rin saw his chance, inscribing a quick rune in the air—a binding seal from his Rune Dao. The rune flared, locking Zhao's glaive for a moment, and Rin loosed a Pseudofire arrow from his bow form, aiming for Zhao's chest. The arrow burned through his spiritual defenses, forcing him to his knees.
Amaya finished it, her sword at Zhao's throat, her melody suppressing his will. "Yield," she said, her voice cold.
Zhao glared but dropped his glaive. "I yield," he spat, the crowd murmuring in shock.
As the Crimson Viper cultivators retreated, the woman at the Ranking Stone approached. "You fight like Blue ranks, both of you," she said, her eyes lingering on Rin. "The stone may say Yellow, Seiryuu, but you've got fire in you. Watch your back—Qinglan doesn't forget a show like this."
Amaya sheathed her sword, her crimson eyes meeting Rin's. "We're not staying," she said. "This city's just a stepping stone."
Rin nodded, his yo-yo spinning slowly. "Next stop, a Purple Tiānmài. Let's find our true rank."
They left the plaza, the crowd parting before them, whispers of "Blue prodigy" and "Yellow enigma" trailing in their wake. Qinglan's Blue Tiānmài pulsed beneath their feet, but their eyes were on the horizon, where greater veins—and greater challenges—awaited.