The sun rose behind a veil of mist, painting the snow-draped landscape of Frostveil Peak with pale gold. Today was the final trial for the new disciples—the Formation Combat Trial—where not strength, but teamwork and strategy determined one's fate.
Elders hovered above the trial grounds on spiritual platforms, eyes glowing with mystical runes. Below them lay a shimmering boundary—a vast illusion realm generated by ancient sect arrays, visible only as a soft ripple in the air.
Tiān Lán stood at the edge, calm as ever.
"Participants," Elder Nian's voice rang out, reverberating across the mountain, "you will be grouped into teams of five. Within the illusion realm lies a shifting battlefield, laced with traps, phantom beasts, and spiritual formations. Your goal: reach the central altar and survive."
The disciples around him murmured excitedly. Most were nervous, checking weapons, adjusting robes. But a few cast sideways glances at Tiān Lán.
"Why's he here again?"
"He may have passed the lightning trial, but that could've been luck."
"He looks... fragile."
Tiān Lán ignored it all.
Then, a voice called out:
"Group Three: Kaì Zhěn, Mù Liuyun, Xuè Wen, Sòng Fei, Tiān Lán."
Kaì Zhěn—his arrogant, well-born rival from the earlier combat trials—smirked immediately. "Oh? They really gave us him? A shame. He'll drag us down."
Mù Liuyun, the cold-eyed girl from the Mirror Bell Hall, gave Tiān Lán a curious look. "Let's see what you're hiding," she whispered under her breath.
Without a word, Tiān Lán followed them into the formation gate. The world blinked—and they were elsewhere.
Inside the Formation Realm
Snow no longer fell. Instead, they were surrounded by twisted trees, glowing blue fog, and endless ice paths that shifted with every step. The air pulsed with danger.
Xuè Wen scouted forward, Sòng Fei set up talismans, and Kaì Zhěn took charge.
"We move toward the central altar through the northern path," Kaì barked. "Stay behind me. Tiān Lán—don't touch anything."
They encountered the first trap soon—a series of pressure plates that triggered spirit flame bursts.
"Step only where I step," Kaì ordered arrogantly, leading the group forward.
But halfway through, a misstep caused flames to erupt, nearly engulfing Sòng Fei. Tiān Lán reacted instantly, throwing a frost seal to smother the fire—calculated, precise, and without hesitation.
Kaì glared at him. "Did I ask for help?"
"You would've died," Tiān Lán said plainly.
Before Kaì could retort, phantom beasts attacked.
Frost Wolves. Illusory but deadly, formed from the cold qi of the formation.
Kaì lunged forward to fight them directly—but his saber passed through one. The beasts flickered, then struck from the side.
Mù Liuyun frowned. "Illusions. They shift after each attack. Regular strikes won't work."
Tiān Lán's eyes gleamed. He drew in a deep breath, raised two fingers, and formed a simple but elegant seal.
> "𝘍rost Veil Sense."
Blue lines danced across his irises. He saw the illusions unraveling—the real beast flickering faintly behind the others.
With swift movement, he landed a strike on the true wolf. It exploded into mist.
The others followed his lead reluctantly. Together, they defeated the wave—but tension hung heavy.
Kaì Zhěn scowled. "Don't get cocky."
Tiān Lán said nothing, but Mù Liuyun's gaze lingered.
As the group reached the middle layers of the illusion realm, the landscape shifted violently. The trees warped into spiraling glass. The fog thickened.
They arrived at a maze of mirrors, an ancient sub-array hidden within the trial. None of the others knew how to proceed.
"We're trapped," Xuè Wen muttered.
Suddenly—Kaì Zhěn turned, slashing at Tiān Lán.
The blade missed by a hair as Tiān Lán twisted aside.
"You're in the way," Kaì growled. "You're too dangerous. I know you're hiding something."
"You want to fail the trial just to settle your pride?" Mù Liuyun snapped.
Kaì laughed coldly. "I've already sent a signal. Let the beasts finish him off. We'll say he triggered a trap."
The mirror maze distorted. Phantom shadows moved in. The betrayal was done.
Left alone, Tiān Lán stood in a corridor of endless ice mirrors. From all directions came growls, reflections of beasts circling him.
But he didn't panic. He simply… breathed.
From within his soul sea, the Bell Spirit stirred.
> "Master… awaken the Frost Mirror Labyrinth Array. It is yours."
His fingers moved in strange patterns. A blue frost qi surged from his core, swirling with lightning.
Glowing runes etched themselves on the ground in a spiraling circle. The mirror walls flickered—then fractured—and reflected the illusions back, confusing the phantom beasts, shattering their form.
> ❄️ "Frost Mirror Labyrinth Array — Echo Reversal"
The formation shimmered, and the beasts dissolved into light.
When the mirrors cleared, a figure stood at the edge of the maze.
Mù Liuyun.
She had followed, hidden from the others.
Her voice was soft, trembling with memory.
> "That array… it hasn't been seen since the fall of the Heavenly Frost Palace… Are you—?"
But Tiān Lán merely met her eyes and turned away.
Outside the Realm
Above the battlefield, the elders watched silently. Some frowned. Some narrowed their eyes.
One of them whispered, "That formation… who taught him that?"
Another said, "It's not in our manuals. It's ancient."
Even the Sect Master stirred from his meditation.
A storm was coming.
The illusion realm faded in threads of white mist as the disciples were transported back to the outer platform. One by one, teams reappeared—battered, panting, some bleeding, others silent with shock.
Group Three reformed last.
Kaì Zhěn staggered out first, sword broken, robe torn.
Xuè Wen and Sòng Fei followed, pale and limping.
Then Mù Liuyun stepped through the fog, completely unharmed.
And last… Tiān Lán emerged.
Not a scratch on him. Frost still shimmered faintly at his boots, and tiny threads of lightning ran quietly through his hair before fading like dust in the wind.
The elders stared.
One of them muttered, "Impossible."
Another leaned forward. "He's suppressing something. That frost qi… it's not native to this generation."
A heavy silence fell.
Until—
"Elders," Kaì Zhěn called, bowing stiffly, "I report Tiān Lán acted against the group's orders. He endangered the team by provoking the mirror maze trap and refused to cooperate."
Sòng Fei hesitated, but bowed too.
Xuè Wen followed with eyes cast down.
Mù Liuyun, however, remained quiet.
Elder Nian's eyes swept the five, unreadable. "Is this true?"
Before anyone else could speak, Tiān Lán stepped forward.
"No," he said flatly. "I saved them all. Kaì Zhěn betrayed the team, attempted to kill me, and deliberately triggered phantom traps to isolate me."
Kaì's face twisted with rage. "Lies!"
"Then explain how you left the maze," Tiān Lán asked softly, "when it requires a key array known only to ancient cultivators?"
Mù Liuyun's voice cut in, quiet but firm.
> "What Tiān Lán says is true. I witnessed it. He not only neutralized the beasts but reversed the mirror formation. I owe him my life."
The elders stilled.
Then the Sect Master spoke—finally breaking his silence.
> "That technique… the Echo Reversal. It is recorded in one place only—in the lost Frost Scripture of the Heavenly Frost Palace."
Whispers broke out behind the platforms. Students stared.
"That sect perished centuries ago!"
"Did he come from a hidden bloodline?"
"Is he...?"
But the Sect Master only gazed at Tiān Lán.
"Who are you?"
Tiān Lán bowed slowly. His voice, calm as moonlit snow, said only:
"I am a disciple of Frostveil Peak."
And nothing more.
Later That Night
Moonlight spilled across the courtyard. Tiān Lán sat beneath a tall, frozen plum tree, quietly sipping cold tea. The day's excitement hadn't touched him—not on the surface.
But deep within, the Bell Spirit, Lingxiāo, stirred again.
> "Master… they're starting to suspect. Shall we act?"
"No," he murmured aloud. "Not yet."
Lightning flickered faintly through his palm as he opened his hand. Inside, three objects floated:
A frost lotus pill, shimmering with lightning veins
A small jade token with the character 霜 (frost) engraved
And the Frostheart Cauldron's shard, still warm from the trial
He wasn't ready to reveal himself.
Not until he had answers. Not until he was strong enough to protect her.
His thoughts drifted—to the mysterious girl with the silver-thread sleeves and closed parasol. The one who had watched him on the peak.
She had known. She had called out to him by implication.
> "So… it really is you."
Who was she?
Meanwhile…
Deep in the forbidden archives of Frostveil, two elders walked in silence through shadowed halls, lanterns flickering against aged scrolls.
"Did you feel it?" the old woman asked.
"Yes. That qi… it's the same as the Frost Heir from a century ago. But that line was extinguished."
"Perhaps not entirely."
They stopped before an old mural—one long covered by dust and spells.
The woman raised her hand. Frost melted away.
Revealed beneath it: a tall young man with frost in his eyes and lightning in his blade, standing before a collapsing palace of ice.
> "Yè Tíanshuāng," she read aloud.
"The Sky-Frost Calamity."