From the perspective of Zhuge Yui Lan
The murmur of the crowd was like the whisper of waves against ancient cliffs. The semicircular stands around the arena vibrated with the anxiety of thousands of voices. Flags of the seven sects fluttered atop the towers, each one displaying symbols that seemed to exude prestige and threat: lightning, flames, mountains, lotus flowers, intertwined dragons and phoenixes.
Yui Lan sat in her discreet seat, her serene gaze upon the vast central space. To common eyes, she was just another young cultivator among the audience. But within, the memory of four thousand years burned, reminding her of every detail — not as a participant, but as a witness to the legend that had been born in Sky Gray City after the participation of her twin brother, Zhuge Yu Jin.
At that time, the event had become a story repeated in every tavern, sung in every street, exaggerated with each passing decade. But Yui Lan did not need the legends. She knew the truth. She knew the trials. She knew the weight they carried.
Four trials. Two to eliminate. Two to choose.
She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the structure as one remembers an ancient sacred rite.
The first was always the test of pressure.
An isolated area, covered by ancestral formations that evoked the gravity of the very heavens. No tricks, no battles. Just walking. Simple, at least on the surface. But under that invisible oppression, bones creaked, meridians trembled, the soul cried out for surrender. A cruel reminder that, for every cultivator who dreamed of reaching the sects, half would not even pass the first step.
Yui Lan inhaled slowly, her eyes opening again. She saw, among the young gathered in the arena, nervousness hidden behind forced smiles. She knew many would fall at this stage, too ashamed to raise their heads.
The second trial was even worse.
The combat assessment.
Veterans of the sects, cultivators already hardened by practice and war, appeared before the candidates within isolation formations. It was not a fair fight, nor an arena for glorious victories. It was an examination. The veterans did not seek to kill — but neither had the slightest intention of being merciful. What mattered was to measure posture, technique, the firmness of the heart. Many collapsed before even raising their swords. Many others were eliminated not by weakness of body, but by hesitation of mind.
"Yes… this has always been the stage that bleeds pride the most," thought Yui Lan, her gaze narrowing slightly.
After that, only a handful remained. Ten percent, sometimes less. The rest returned home with scars or disgrace — if they returned at all.
From there, the true selection began.
The third trial was almost ironic in its simplicity: the evaluation of talent.
Each candidate climbed alone onto an ancestral platform, and the artifact measured their essence. The resulting glow revealed the color of their spiritual potential, from the most common shades to the rarest. The audience gasped, the sects whispered, and then… invitations were made.
For most, that was enough. A blue, cyan, or green glow was sufficient to receive the outstretched hand of some sect. There was no need to risk further.
But destiny is rarely generous to those who wish to choose.
For those who sought a specific sect — and had not received its invitation — there was the fourth trial.
The most complex. The most feared.
It was not a single challenge.
It was seven.
Each great sect prepared its own trial, shaped according to its philosophy and inner secrets. The candidate chose which test they wished to face, knowing that if they failed, they would have to content themselves only with the invitations they already had… if they still had any.
"A stage not only to measure talent, but also the audacity of those who wish to write their own destiny."
Yui Lan set her gaze on the center of the arena, where the formations were already beginning to activate. The ground trembled with lines of light intertwining like golden serpents, preparing the space for the first trial. The murmur of the crowd grew louder, like a sea preparing for the storm.
She gently closed her fingers over the fabric of her sleeve, and for an instant, let slip a silent thought:
"Yu Jin… which path will you take this time?"
The arena stage already pulsed with the activated formations, but Yui Lan did not look at the restless candidates in the center. Her calm, calculating gaze swept across the scarlet banners fluttering in the highest seats — each flag representing one of the Seven Great Sects of the White Flame Empire.
She knew those marks. Not because she had faced them directly in her previous life… but because entire generations had been marked by these names.
"If one wishes to rewrite their own destiny, they must first pass through the shadow of these seven."
1st – Sect of Infinite Flames
The most powerful of all. A colossus that dominated the heart of the Empire, sustained by the lineage of Empress Feng Yue. Its disciples cultivated fire in its purest form, refining techniques that not only burned, but also rebuilt. It was the sect where Yu Jin's former fiancée, Wu Qing Xue, had received privileged instruction.
Its challenge was known as the Burning Scarlet Lotus.
A vast field of illusory flames rises, shaped by ancient formations. The candidate must cross a "Sea of Scarlet Lotuses," where each flower of fire is a trial. Some test the body, burning skin and bones. Others test the mind, revealing visions of fear and desire. The objective is simple: reach the other side. But most never take more than three steps before kneeling under pain and illusion.
2nd – Sect of the Celestial Ice Veil
Cold, distant, relentless. Its disciples cultivated absolute calm, believing that only a frozen heart could resist the temptations of the world. It was the historic rival of the Sect of Infinite Flames, and together they shaped the balance of the Empire.
Its challenge was known as the Flowers of Eternal Snow.
A lake of ice, seemingly solid. The candidate must cross it to the altar at the center. Each step cracks the ice, releasing imprisoned spiritual beasts. To run is to sink, to hesitate is to be devoured. The crossing demands courage and patience in perfect balance.
3th – Sect of the Pavilion of a Hundred Flowers
Enigmatic, blending beauty, spirituality, and charm. Seen as delicate by the ignorant, but feared by the wise. Its disciples were all women, and no man was accepted even if he passed the trials — this was the absolute rule.
Its challenge was known as the Harmonious Jade.
The candidate is enveloped in a multicolored mist. Within it, illusions of beauty and terror dance like petals. Spiritual poison corrodes the meridians. The only way out is to find the "True Flower" at the center of the mist. A test of perception, self-control, and spiritual resistance.
4rd – Celestial Thunder Sect.
Famous for its ferocity, it was the forge of warriors who lived fast and died young. But while they lived, they were thunder incarnate. Though smaller than the two supreme sects, its military influence was feared throughout the Empire.
Its challenge was known as the Fist of Burning Thunder.
The candidate is placed in a metallic field where lightning bolts fall without warning. There is no way to avoid them all. One must endure the impact, absorb part of the energy, and unleash it in a single strike against the central pillar. Endurance and explosion in perfect harmony.
5th – Sect of the Burning Moon
The youngest of the seven, but also the most peculiar. Its numbers were small, almost irrelevant compared to the great sects. But each disciple was an absolute talent, forged like a perfect blade. The sect was a handful of rare stars in a sky of mediocrity.
Its challenge was known as the Crimson Moon Sword.
The candidate must face a reflection of themselves, created by moonlight. The reflection imitates techniques, hesitations, even doubts. To win, it is not enough to destroy the copy. One must surpass oneself — defeat the heart that falters.
6th – Sect of the Obscure Sun
Feared, but unstable. A sect that grew on the margins, using flames and darkness as weapons. Its prestige never reached the great names, but its brutality kept it among the seven.
Its challenge was known as the Flaming Shadow of the Eclipse.
An arena plunged into darkness. Only a solitary flame appears at the center. The candidate must feed it until it illuminates the entire field. To do so, they must face shadows that attack at will and corrode the soul. Many go mad before seeing the light.
7th – Sect of the Roar of a Hundred Beasts
The lowest ranked, and yet indispensable. Specializing in the auxiliary profession of taming spiritual beasts, its influence spread across every border of the Empire. Though seen as the weakest, no army dared fight without a beast tamer by their side.
Its challenge was known as the Pavilion of the Beast Soul.
The candidate must face a spiritual beast of a level equivalent to their own. But defeating it is not enough. One must tame it. Those who attack only with fury are eliminated. Only those who impose respect or harmony survive.
Yui Lan breathed deeply, her eyes passing over each banner.
"Seven paths, seven trials. The first place forges emperors. The seventh, forgotten warriors. But all carry one truth: every step here is taken against the will of the heavens."