Blackthorn Academy looked peaceful on the surface.
Students bustled through the grand glass corridors, their uniforms catching the sunlight. Lecture halls buzzed with whispered gossip, AI-assisted simulations, and scheduled duels. From the outside, it looked like a modern utopia for future cultivators.
But beneath the polished metal and lightstone, tensions brewed.
Lin Xuan sensed it in the way the instructors spoke more carefully. In how certain faculty disappeared for "special meetings." In how even the most arrogant students had started whispering about one thing:
The Zenith Selection.
It had been announced two days ago—an internal competition to determine who would represent the academy in the upcoming Inter-Academy Tournament. Every ten years, the top-tier academies gathered to display their rising talent.
And every ten years, some students never came back.
Most took it as an opportunity.
Lin Xuan saw it for what it was.
A trap.
He didn't want the spotlight. Fame made people ask questions. He had no interest in titles or recognition. His goal was simple: cultivate quietly, adapt to this new world, and sever all ties to the past.
But some people weren't going to let him stay quiet.
That became obvious when a golden envelope appeared on his dorm desk.
There was no sender. No name. Just a wax seal shaped like a coiled dragon.
Lin Xuan opened it.
Inside was a single card, matte black, with silver script embossed across it:
"You've been selected for the Zenith Preliminaries. Declining is not an option."
No signature.
No instructions.
Just a time and a location: Tomorrow. 5 PM. Sub-Level 4 — Arena Sigma.
He burned the card with a snap of his fingers and sat back.
So it had begun.
The next evening, Lin Xuan arrived at Arena Sigma exactly on time.
The place was nothing like the upper-level training halls. Sigma was buried deep beneath the academy, hidden behind reinforced alloy gates and guarded by spirit-sealed security drones.
Only elite students knew this place existed.
When he stepped inside, the air changed.
It was colder. Darker. The walls pulsed faintly with containment glyphs meant to suppress spiritual pressure. The arena was small—circular, surrounded by black viewing windows where shadows watched in silence.
Nine other students were already inside, all standing apart from each other.
Every one of them wore different versions of the academy combat suit. Customized. Enhanced.
These weren't random students.
These were the top ten unofficially ranked combatants of Blackthorn.
And someone had slotted Lin Xuan right into the middle of them.
A countdown appeared above the arena.
[PRELIMINARY MATCH STARTS IN: 03:00]
Yun Fei was here too, standing off to the side. He noticed Lin Xuan and grimaced. Not fear, not annoyance—respectful wariness.
The others, though, weren't as polite.
One student with silver hair and two glowing gauntlets stepped forward.
"Shen Yi, right?" he said, voice smooth. "You've made waves for a newcomer. Too bad you're about to be erased."
Lin Xuan gave him a glance, then looked away.
The gauntlet-wielder's smirk vanished. He looked like he wanted to say more but held back.
Instead, a robotic voice echoed from above.
"Welcome to Arena Sigma. Ten students have been selected. Only five will pass to the Zenith bracket."
"This is a free-for-all."
"Begin."
The lights dimmed.
Then the arena exploded.
Not literally—but with movement.
The silver-haired gauntlet user lunged forward, his fists glowing with compression fields. Another student, a girl with shadow threads swirling around her, melted into the ground. Two others clashed near the north quadrant with spears and dual sabers.
Lin Xuan didn't move.
Not yet.
He closed his eyes.
Five.
Four.
He felt the flow of spiritual currents in the air. The steps of each fighter. The vibrations of energy techniques. The slight distortion caused by cloaking glyphs. Everything.
Three.
The girl beneath the ground was circling him, threads ready to erupt from the floor.
Two.
The gauntlet user was using a charging feint to draw attention, hoping to create a three-way clash between Lin Xuan and the two spear users.
One.
The shadow threads erupted from beneath.
And Lin Xuan moved.
In a single breath, he shifted his weight, avoided the attack by half a step, and slammed his heel into the floor.
A controlled burst of qi rippled out—not visible to the others, but perfectly aimed.
The shockwave disrupted the shadow technique's core pattern.
The girl screamed, reappearing mid-air, her spell unraveling.
She was knocked out cold before she hit the floor.
One down.
Before the others could process what had happened, Lin Xuan leapt into the fight near the north quadrant.
He didn't use any fancy techniques.
Just his body.
Palm strikes. Elbow redirection. Joint dislocation. Pressure point control.
The two fighters tried to work together for a moment, but Lin Xuan danced between them like smoke.
When one of them attempted a spiritual barrage, he let it hit.
The barrier he summoned absorbed it fully.
And the follow-up counter shattered the attacker's shoulder.
Two more down.
Now the gauntlet user was nervous.
He charged anyway.
His fists glowed bright blue, surrounded by artificial storm glyphs.
He roared, unleashing a rapid barrage of strikes meant to overwhelm Lin Xuan with speed.
But Lin Xuan didn't block.
He stepped in.
Too close.
Inside the strike radius.
A simple parry. A twist of the wrist. And the gauntlet bent the wrong way.
The user screamed.
Lin Xuan finished him with a palm strike to the ribs—not lethal, but enough to drop him instantly.
Now only two students were left.
One—a tall girl with a flaming spear.
The other—a silent boy with a mirror-like shield.
They didn't rush him.
They backed away.
Lin Xuan looked at both of them.
"You want to pass?" he asked simply.
They exchanged glances.
Then nodded.
And just like that, the battle ended.
The next morning, every student at Blackthorn woke up to the same headline on their social feed.
[Top Five Zenith Preliminary Results Revealed — Transfer Student Shen Yi Stuns Academy]
"In an unexpected upset, newcomer Shen Yi dominated the arena in less than five minutes, defeating four high-ranking students and forcing the final two to surrender. Despite no visible background or spiritual affiliation, he displayed precision control and advanced hand-to-hand techniques that left analysts stunned. Academy officials declined to comment on his origins."
"Who is Shen Yi?"
Meanwhile, inside Dean Zhou's private office, two instructors reviewed the footage in silence.
"He's dangerous," said Instructor Lei Jun.
"Or brilliant," the other replied. "Either way… we have no idea where he came from."
Dean Zhou finally spoke.
"Keep it that way."
They turned to him.
"What do you mean?"
Dean Zhou's gaze was steady.
"Let him rise at his own pace. No pressure. No probes. He is… something the academy needs."
"And if he turns out to be a threat?"
Dean Zhou smiled faintly.
"Then let's hope he considers this place home by then."
Lin Xuan sat alone in the academy's greenhouse that afternoon.
He didn't read the news.
Didn't answer messages.
Didn't bask in attention.
Instead, he simply meditated, feeling the progress he'd made during the fight. The subtle strengthening of his meridians. The slight expansion of his inner qi lake.
This body was still weak by his old standards.
But it was learning fast.
And soon…
It would be ready.
He opened his eyes, calm as ever.
Let them watch.
Let them wonder.
They'd never know the truth.
They never could.
Because Lin Xuan had buried his past deeper than death itself.