The morning air smelled of dew and damp earth as the carriages rolled along the dirt path. Children leaned out of the open sides, pointing at the mountains ahead where clouds curled around jagged peaks like dragons asleep in the sky. Their chatter filled the air—dreams of glory, of swords blazing with light, of summoning beasts that could crush armies.
Among them sat a boy of ten, his robes plain, patched twice at the elbow. His name was Li Shen. Unlike the others, he didn't brag about how powerful he'd become. He only looked back at the woman standing by the roadside.
His mother.
She was thin, her face pale from years of toil, but her eyes glistened with pride. She clutched the hem of her simple dress as though letting go of him meant letting go of the last piece of her heart.
"Mother…" Li Shen whispered, his throat tightening.
She smiled, forcing brightness into her expression. "Go, Shen'er. This is your chance. You must not waste it."
Her words were firm, but her hands trembled. The carriage wheels creaked, and the gap between them widened. He wanted to leap out, to run back, but he clenched his fists instead.
"I'll make you proud," he swore under his breath. "I'll become strong enough to protect you."
The mountains grew larger with every turn of the wheels. By the time the caravan arrived at the sect gates, the morning sun had spilled gold across the peaks.
The Sect Gates
The Azure Sky Sect towered before them. A stairway of jade stretched up the mountainside, lined with statues of long-dead heroes. Runes shimmered faintly along their weapons, and their eyes seemed alive, watching each newcomer with silent judgment.
Gasps of awe escaped the children.
"Look! A flying sword!" one boy cried as a disciple soared overhead, robes fluttering like a banner in the wind.
"That's nothing," another boasted. "When I awaken my spirit root, I'll summon a beast ten times that size."
Li Shen kept quiet, but his heart pounded. He'd heard stories of the sect—the place where boys became warriors and girls became spell-weavers. Now he stood before its gates, his mother's hopes weighing heavier than the mountain itself.
"Disciples, step forward," boomed a voice.
An elder appeared, his beard silver, his eyes sharp as blades. His robes bore the mark of the sect: a dragon coiled around a rising sun. Behind him, rows of senior disciples stood in neat formation, their gazes cold and appraising.
"You have been chosen," the elder said. His voice rolled like thunder down the mountain steps. "For two years, you will train in the ways of qi circulation, discipline, and martial skill. At twelve years of age, each of you will be tested for your spirit root. Only then will your true path be revealed—mage, warrior, summoner, or alchemist."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"But remember this: without a spirit root, you are nothing. No sect will take you. No art will welcome you. You will return to the dust of mediocrity."
A shiver rippled through the children.
Li Shen's fists clenched. Nothing… I can't be nothing. Mother's sacrificed too much for me to fail.
At his side, his best friend Zhao Feng grinned, slapping him on the back. "Don't worry, Shen! With your talent, you'll probably end up a mage or a warrior. Maybe even a summoner!"
Li Shen forced a smile. Feng's confidence in him warmed his chest, though he would later remember those words with bitter irony.
Nearby, a girl in pale blue robes glanced over. Her name was Mei Lin—his childhood betrothed, promised to him in their village long ago. She smiled softly at him, eyes sparkling with trust.
"Let's all pass together," she whispered.
His heart swelled. In that moment, he believed he could.
The First Training
The elder led them into a wide training courtyard paved with smooth stone. Statues of phoenixes and tigers lined the walls, their carved eyes gleaming with qi.
"Sit. Cross your legs. Breathe with the rhythm of the world."
Li Shen obeyed, inhaling the mountain air. The elder's instructions flowed like a steady stream—focus on the dantian, draw in qi, feel the Sea of Ocean within.
A warmth spread through his chest. His vision dimmed, then brightened again. For the first time, he sensed the faint ripple of energy moving inside him.
Around him, others coughed, fidgeted, or gasped with joy. But when Li Shen opened his eyes, his body thrummed with calm clarity.
"Good," the elder murmured, passing by. His gaze lingered on Li Shen a moment longer than the rest.
Zhao Feng grinned at him. "See? I told you. You're a natural!"
Li Shen flushed, glancing away, but the praise etched a tiny flame of hope in his chest.
Nightfall
By the time dusk fell, the children had been assigned small stone quarters in the outer sect. The others chatted excitedly, boasting of their future glories. Li Shen lay on his bed of straw, staring through the narrow window at the silver moon above.
His thoughts turned to his mother. Was she sleeping peacefully? Or worrying about him alone in that empty hut?
He pressed his palm against his chest.
"For your sake, Mother," he whispered, "I'll succeed. I'll never let you suffer again."
Silence filled the room. But deep within him, in the unseen depths of his Sea of Ocean, something stirred.
A faint pulse of golden light throbbed in the darkness, hidden beneath twenty layers of ancient seals.
And in that pulse, for the first time in ten long years, a shadowed presence shifted, as if roused by his vow.