Morning arrived with the steady clang of the academy bell.
Lin Ye opened his eyes before the final echo faded, his breathing calm and even. He had barely slept—not from exhaustion, but from awareness. All night, that faint warmth within his blood had remained active, subtle yet unmistakable, like something waiting for the right moment to rise.
He stood, washed, and dressed in the standard academy robes before leaving the dormitory.
The mixed training grounds lay at the heart of the outer academy, a wide circular field carved from black stone. When Lin Ye arrived, dozens of students were already present. Some wore confident expressions, others cautious, but all of them carried a faint edge in their gaze.
These were not ordinary recruits.
Lin Ye immediately sensed it.
Their auras were uneven—some strong, some restrained—but each carried something notable. Clan disciples hiding their true strength. Talents flagged during testing. Individuals the academy had decided were worth watching.
And now, so was he.
"New face?"
Lin Ye turned to see a tall boy with short black hair and broad shoulders standing nearby. His qi was stable, clearly in the mid-stage Body Tempering Realm.
"Lin Ye," he replied simply.
The boy nodded. "Zhao Han. Guess you're here for the same reason as the rest of us."
Before Lin Ye could respond, a sharp pressure swept across the field.
Silence fell instantly.
An elderly man stepped forward, his presence calm but overwhelming. He wore no insignia, no decorative robes—only plain black cloth. Yet with each step, the air itself seemed to retreat.
"This training group exists for one reason," the old man said, his voice neither loud nor soft, yet heard clearly by all. "To determine who is worth further resources."
No one dared to breathe.
"Talent alone is meaningless. Background is irrelevant. Only results matter."
His gaze passed over the students, lingering for a brief moment on Lin Ye.
"Today," the instructor continued, "you will spar."
A ripple of tension spread through the group.
"No weapons. No killing. Everything else is permitted."
Pairs were quickly assigned.
When Lin Ye heard his name, his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Lin Ye versus Chen Wu."
A boy stepped forward from the opposite side. His lips curved into a faint smirk, his aura sharp and aggressive.
"Outer city trash," Chen Wu muttered quietly. "Try not to embarrass yourself."
Lin Ye said nothing.
They stepped onto the stone platform.
The moment the signal was given, Chen Wu attacked without hesitation. His fist cut through the air, spiritual qi surging as he aimed straight for Lin Ye's chest.
Fast. Strong. Well-trained.
Lin Ye shifted his stance just enough for the blow to graze past him. His foot slid across the stone, redirecting the force instead of meeting it head-on.
Chen Wu frowned.
Lin Ye countered.
His strike was simple—no flashy technique, no excessive qi—but it carried weight. His fist landed against Chen Wu's ribs with a dull thud, forcing the air from his lungs.
"How—"
Chen Wu barely had time to react before Lin Ye followed up, stepping inside his guard and sweeping his legs out from under him.
The fight ended with Chen Wu on the ground, staring upward in disbelief.
Silence.
Then murmurs.
"That was clean."
"No wasted movement…"
"Isn't he only early Body Tempering?"
Lin Ye stepped back calmly, his breathing steady.
But inside, he felt it again.
That pulse.
For the briefest instant during the exchange, his blood had surged—his vision sharpened, his body responding faster than his thoughts. It vanished as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind only certainty.
He hadn't imagined it.
The elderly instructor's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Victory to Lin Ye," he announced.
As Lin Ye left the platform, several gazes followed him—some curious, some wary, a few openly hostile.
He ignored them all.
If this was the academy's test, then he would pass it on his own terms.
And if the blood within him wished to awaken…
He would make sure it did so under his control.