The night wind was cool.
In the forest, a small fire crackled—
Casting flickering light on two figures leaning against stone.
Xuan Chen sat with eyes closed,
Fingers idly turning a silver-grain sigil.
Xiao Chen rested against a dead tree,
Gazing at the stars,
Brows slightly furrowed.
"Brother…"
He spoke softly,
His voice half-swallowed by the night.
"That Fourth Elder from Crimson Refining Sect—
Was it premeditated, or a last-minute move?"
Xuan Chen opened his eyes.
His voice was calm.
"Their strikes were ruthless,
No hesitation.
That wasn't desperation—
It was a script written long before the curtain rose."
Xiao Chen snorted.
"So we're not the first targets…
And won't be the last?"
"They think framing us will push us out of the game…"
Xuan Chen's tone held quiet disdain.
"But they forgot—
We're not pieces on the board."
The firelight reflected in his eyes,
Revealing faint star-patterns.
Xiao Chen turned to him,
A flicker in his gaze.
"You mean…
Even the entrance trial might be rigged?"
Xuan Chen's eyes darkened.
His voice was low.
"Ao Tian Academy extended the invitation.
They won't act openly.
But the academy is vast—
It hides people, and it hides hearts.
Some traps don't need the academy's permission to be set."
"…Infiltrators?"
"If Supreme Academy can move Crimson Refining Sect—
Why not Ao Tian?"
Xiao Chen fell silent.
Then whispered—
"Shen Ziyu…"
Xuan Chen nodded.
"If he truly is Starseizing's heir,
His transfer wasn't for study—
It was for strategy."
The wind stirred the firelight,
Scattering sparks.
Xiao Chen gripped Dragon Soul,
His voice cold.
"Good.
If they dare set a trap—
I'll split it open on the spot."
Xuan Chen smiled faintly.
"I'll clean up after you."
The fire dimmed.
The night deepened.
——
Dawn broke in the east.
The wind swept over the quiet mountain.
Outside Ao Tian Academy,
The long stone steps were weathered with age—
But already, over a hundred youths had gathered.
Most wore plain clothes,
Faces tense, voices hushed.
"I heard Ao Tian used to be the top academy…
Now they accept commoners like us?"
"Just getting a chance is enough.
They say if you pass three trials,
You'll earn a recommendation letter—
And enter the inner school."
The crowd was quiet and restrained.
No arrogant prodigies,
Few noble heirs.
A few well-dressed youths stood apart—
Surrounded by silence,
Others subtly avoiding them.
Just then,
Two young men arrived.
One wore gray robes,
Expression calm,
His features unassuming—
Yet he radiated a quiet gravity.
The other carried a spear on his back,
His stride firm,
Eyes bright as stars—
But he spoke little.
They didn't stop at the end of the line.
Instead, they walked along the edge of the crowd,
Silently reaching the front.
"Hey—
You two."
A cold voice broke the silence.
The speaker was a youth in blue-patterned battlewear,
Tall and proud,
Eyes filled with disdain.
Beside him, a follower chimed in.
"This isn't a place for luck-chasers to cut the line."
Xiao Chen raised an eyebrow,
About to speak—
But Xuan Chen held him back,
Gazing calmly at the youth.
The youth sneered.
"I'm Ran Ping,
Inner disciple of Red Cliff Sect.
Who are you?
Give me your names—
So I'll know who's going to embarrass themselves."
Xuan Chen replied coolly.
"Just remember your own name."
Ran Ping froze—
Then flushed with anger,
About to retort—
But a bronze bell rang out,
Announcing the start of the trial.
On the high platform,
A figure stepped forward.
He wore a silver-patterned gray robe,
An eight-treasure badge at his waist.
His eyes were cold as stars,
His expression indifferent,
His steps steady and powerful.
He said nothing—
Yet his presence alone
Silenced the crowd.
Someone whispered—
"That's Du Jin…
Vice Envoy of Ao Tian's Discipline Hall.
They say he once fought three halls alone during the civil war—
And never lost a single match…"
He stood atop the stone steps,
Offered a slight bow.
His voice was not loud—
Yet it rang like a temple bell,
Clear in every ear.
"Ao Tian Academy's entrance trial consists of three stages—
Fate Mark Imprint,
Basic Strength Test,
And Spiritual Perception Assessment."
"All three are qualification evaluations—
Not elimination rounds.
But those who score low in all three
Will not be admitted."
"This trial does not seek the strongest—
But the truest.
Give it your all."
—
The Fate Mark Imprint station was set at the center of the trial grounds—
A stone platform embedded with a circular bronze mirror and secret glyph array,
Visible only to examiners.
The first candidate stepped up.
The bronze mirror lit with three marks.
Vice Examiner Du Jin whispered to a colleague,
"Three marks—decent.
This one has potential."
Another stepped up—
Four marks.
Du Jin nodded in approval.
"Next—Xiao Chen."
He looked up,
Saw the plain-robed youth.
A flicker passed through his eyes.
His lips curled in a cold smile.
"These days, anyone dares to test."
Xiao Chen said nothing.
He stepped onto the platform,
Pressed his palm to the mirror.
The bronze mirror trembled silently.
Ten fate marks flared across the inner glyphs—
Pushing the array to its limit.
The entire formation hummed faintly.
Du Jin's talisman cracked.
Du Jin shot to his feet,
Face pale, breath caught.
"Ten… ten marks…"
Other examiners turned,
But due to the array's isolation,
The crowd saw nothing unusual—
Assuming the test had gone smoothly.
Xiao Chen turned and stepped down,
Passing Ran Ping.
He gave no words—
Just a glance.
But it landed like a hammer.
Ran Ping's face drained of color.
Sweat pooled in his palms.
He opened his mouth—
But no words came.
"Next… Xuan Chen."
Du Jin forced composure,
His voice still shaken.
Xuan Chen stepped up,
Placed his hand on the mirror.
No light.
No marks.
Du Jin scoffed.
"Ten marks followed by zero?
Quite the contrast."
Xuan Chen's gaze remained calm.
He spoke softly.
"You should be grateful today's test is fate marks.
If it were combat—
You wouldn't be standing."
Du Jin's face darkened.
He said no more—
But a flicker of wariness appeared in his eyes.
Outside the array,
The crowd murmured.
Unable to see the results,
They watched the rise and fall of candidates—
Their curiosity only growing.
—
Inside Ao Tian Academy's inner court,
Moonwatch Tower.
Three stories tall,
Its top floor housed the Imprint Projection Array—
A space reserved for the Headmaster and Hall Lords
To observe the trials.
Gǔ Líng sat alone by the window.
Incense still burned.
In the floating water mirror,
He watched Xiǎo Chén place his palm on the bronze mirror.
Ten fate marks flared—
The array trembled faintly.
He showed no reaction.
Only tapped his sandalwood desk with one finger,
The rhythm slow—
As if playing a mental game of strategy.
"Ten marks…
Startrace…
Not yet extinguished."
He murmured.
His voice held no surprise—
Only contemplation.
The mirror shifted.
Xuán Chén stepped onto the platform.
His aura completely suppressed.
The device showed no response.
Outside the image,
A glint flashed in Gǔ Líng's eyes.
"No visible aura…
Imprint veins hidden in bone…
This one may not be of this realm."
He said no more.
Only whispered—
"If he came with that child…
Then Starseizing Palace and Crimson Refining Sect
May come to regret it."
The mirror shifted again—
To the corner tower of the trial grounds.
A woman in blue robes stood atop the structure.
Her sleeves fluttered gently.
Her fingers rested lightly on her sword hilt.
She gazed silently toward the trial field.
It was the Butterfly Blade—
Xuān Yuán Dié.
Gǔ Líng chuckled softly.
"You sensed it too?
The insight you gained beneath the Celestial Scar Sword…
Now finds its echo.
It's time you drew closer to them."
His sleeve moved slightly.
The mirror dimmed.
Only the scent of tea lingered in the tower.
—
This year's entrance trial…
Was shaping up to be far more interesting than usual.
—
Stage Two: Strength Test
On the stone platform,
The bronze mirror's glow faded.
At its base, glyphs began to rotate.
The surface cracked slightly—
And a black stone pillar, about three meters tall,
Rose slowly.
Its surface was gray,
Etched with nine layers of suppression sigils.
Each layer bore flowing spiritual patterns—
Lighting up in response to the force of impact.
This was the Balance Pillar,
Designed to measure the peak of physical power.
Du Jīn raised his voice.
"This pillar has nine levels.
One mark equals one thousand jin.
Nine marks—ten thousand jin!
Strike with full force—
And witness your limit!"
Candidates stepped forward one by one.
Some lit three marks—
Earning cheers.
Others walked away with only one—
Unsurprising.
Xiǎo Chén
stepped forward.
He didn't gather momentum—
Simply took one quiet step,
Clenched his right fist,
Settled his breath into his dantian,
And struck.
Boom—!
The entire Balance Pillar shuddered.
Sigils lit one after another—
Up to the sixth layer,
And still climbing.
At the edge of the seventh mark,
The pillar's glow began to destabilize.
A golden phantom glyph flickered at its core—
Then vanished.
The trial ground trembled.
Dust rose from the earth.
The crowd turned pale.
Du Jīn rushed forward to inspect the inner array,
Brows furrowed.
"Power…
Roughly six and a half marks.
But that shockwave…
Shouldn't exist in a fate-mark novice."
Just then—
From the distant corner tower,
A threadlike sword aura surged forth.
No blade was drawn.
Yet a pressure descended from above—
Like a beast staring down its prey,
Piercing straight into the soul.
Xiǎo Chén froze.
Sweat slid down his brow.
His throat tightened.
He instinctively stepped back.
"What… is that?"
Xuán Chén narrowed his eyes,
Gazing toward the high tower.
"Sword intent."
In the crowd,
Someone's legs gave out—
Collapsing on the spot.
Rǎn Píng turned ghostly pale,
Unable to stand,
Muttering—
"Who…
Who's watching me?"
The battle aura lasted only a few breaths—
Then receded,
Like a silent tide.
Xiǎo Chén exhaled slowly,
Turning to Xuán Chén.
"You felt it too.
That aura…
Isn't something we can provoke."
Xuán Chén replied calmly.
"She wasn't aiming at you.
She moved…
Because she was excited."
Xiǎo Chén blinked.
"Who?"
Xuán Chén's gaze sharpened.
His voice dropped.
"That sword…
Doesn't draw itself lightly.
But if she truly stirs to kill—
No one in this academy could stop her."