Duong Minh sat quietly in the rest room, reflecting on the previous segment of the examination. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, concentrating on the subtle changes around him. Particles of spiritual energy drifted through the air, interwoven with tiny points of data-light, something only he could perceive.
"Not only the Mandala, not only spiritual energy…" Duong Minh thought, his eyes fixed on the window. "…but also the Digital Ocean and the endless streams of data are gradually merging into the real world. The two realms are colliding, and I am standing at the boundary."
He recalled the moment he destroyed Marcus's chip. It had not been merely a surge of data. There had been something deeper, as though an unseen hand within the Digital Ocean had reached out to manipulate reality itself.
"The Digital Ocean has a close connection with the Mandala," Lyra said. "I believe they were once inseparable parts of an ancient world."
Duong Minh remained silent. He did not wish to pursue that line of thought. Lyra had existed in the Digital Ocean for an unknown span of time; she knew far more than he could imagine. But now was not the moment to chase distant mysteries. He needed his mind clear for the next trial.
Soon, the examiners guided the candidates to the third test: Practical Combat.
It was a colossal circular structure. The candidates passed through towering gates. Inside lay a vast arena, transformed by the organizers into a hybrid battlefield. One half was solid concrete. The other half was an adaptive holographic environment that shifted according to scenario scripts. Layers of light coated the ground like sheets of glass.
On the concrete floor stood armored mechanical frames in still formation: mobile radar units, tracked robots, self-propelled artillery, three-meter humanoid combat machines fully equipped with firearms, reconnaissance suicide drones. Above, holographic projections rendered trees, ruins, artificial water surfaces, everything required to simulate a village bearing both Eastern and Western architectural marks, where the clash between Intelligence and Dao was meticulously staged.
The projected light cast surreal shadows. It was both a modern construction site of steel and cement, and an ancient town with curved tiled roofs. The combination felt neither awkward nor accidental. It was a reminder: the war between Intelligence and Dao was not past versus future, but two civilizations contending to shape the world.
An examiner stepped onto the platform. His voice resonated across the arena.
"The Practical Combat segment simulates a direct clash between Intellect Cultivator and Dao Cultivators. You will not use manual controllers. All commands are executed through synchronized connection to the Digital Ocean. You will use your intention to control all machinery and weapons here."
"Objective: seize three key points on the map. The simulated Eastern Court will deploy cultivators, formation arrays, and sword formations to defend."
"Time limit: eighteen minutes."
"Evaluation criteria: effectiveness in capturing objectives, damage mitigation, adaptability, and above all, multi-unit coordination."
When the announcement concluded, the lights brightened. Each candidate was guided to a "link point," a tall chair with two contact nodes positioned behind the neck where electrodes touched the skull. No keyboards. No handheld devices. Here, consciousness connected directly into the Digital Ocean, allowing thought to transmit commands to machines like signals from one's own body.
Lyra whispered beside Duong Minh, not in words but in direct sensory transmission.
"Synchronize your mind. I will accelerate and shield the channel."
Duong Minh placed his hand on the chair's frame and inhaled deeply, as he always did before any trial. He remembered Master Tinh Khong's words: do not become a machine; allow machines to become an extension of yourself. He tilted his head and felt the data from the Digital Ocean flow toward him like a river of light. Streams of consciousness coursed through his brain like tributaries. Lyra activated a filter, reducing noise and stabilizing the signal.
At the moment of full synchronization, Duong Minh felt his awareness stretch outward, no longer confined to his small physical body.
He "saw" the robots as distant points of light. He "felt" their engines as secondary heartbeats, third, fourth, and more.
"Do not control them," Lyra reminded him. "Become them."
He understood. He did not command a robot to move. Instead, he desired movement, and the robot responded to that desire instinctively.
Beside him, holographic displays revealed his opponents' faces.
Rafael, large-bodied, movements somewhat rough but eyes fierce.
Yue Lin, cold as mountain water, gaze sharp as a blade.
Jonas, calm, slender fingers concealing quiet confidence in defense.
Amira, warm-eyed yet resolute.
Elena, Sima… each synchronized into the Digital Ocean with their own style, their own tactical thinking.
Duong Minh transmitted intention to his mechanical units.
"Divide into three squads: reconnaissance, assault, defense."
Within the Digital Ocean, Lyra adjusted data streams, prioritizing bandwidth for combat control and filtering unnecessary signals.
When the battle began, chants of spiritual gathering echoed from the simulated Eastern Court. A group of illusionary cultivators appeared atop elevated platforms. They swung swords with graceful lightness, and a silver-black mist rose like dense fog. They formed an illusion array. The dark vapor blocked radar signals. A phantom army materialized, shadow figures holding weapons in formation, eyes gleaming, impossible to distinguish real from false.
Radar signals flickered chaotically. Duong Minh narrowed his eyes. Direct assault into an illusion array might prove inefficient and waste ammunition, and ammunition was never infinite in any war.
Rafael did not hesitate. His tanks roared like beasts, treads crushing gravel. He did not even glance at the display, eyes closed, teeth clenched, his entire consciousness merged into the Digital Ocean.
"Advance. Fire."
Not spoken words, but pure intention.
Machine guns poured bullets into the fog like rain. Small missiles detonated in bursts of flame. The ground trembled.
After the first wave of assault, everyone paused briefly, waiting for the smoke to thin. Yet beyond the haze, the cultivator silhouettes still stood unmoved, as if untouched by the barrage.
Other candidates began advancing cautiously toward the illusion array. Rafael's leading tanks entered the mist.
They vanished.
Completely.
Rafael lost all sensory connection to them. Within the Digital Ocean, the light-points representing his tanks extinguished like lamps cut from power.
Rafael's eyes widened. Sweat drenched his forehead. The sensation was like losing limbs abruptly. His mechanical "extensions" had disappeared from awareness.
"Damn it!" Rafael shouted, striking the armrest. This was not merely lost points. It was the helplessness of rendered weapons.
"This illusion array blocks intentional control signals!" Rafael yelled.
"Then how are we supposed to attack?" Elena frowned.
"There must be a way to break it," Duong Minh said calmly.
He directed his high-altitude drone squad upward with thermal sensors, emitting magnetic probing pulses to search for gaps in the formation. With Lyra's assistance, he increased synchronization directly through the Digital Ocean, bypassing conventional circuitry. He felt each rotor as if it were a toe, each blade as muscle.
Through the drone's perception, the illusion array was no longer mist. It appeared as an invisible network. Strands of spiritual force interwove into a barrier.
But every network has weak points.
"There," Lyra indicated within the Digital Ocean. "Where three streams of spiritual force converge. If that node is disrupted…"
Duong Minh did not need the rest. A suicide drone descended, evading a sword-strike launched upward from the ground, and detonated precisely at the gap Lyra identified.
In the final instant before detonation, he saw through its sensors: the illusion array trembled and shattered like glass struck by a hammer.
"Impressive," Yue Lin murmured softly over a private channel.
She turned toward Duong Minh's holographic projection. Her gaze was complex: surprise, respect, and something else, perhaps resolve.
"You are both my greatest rival and someone I would fight beside," she thought. "But in this competition, only one stands at the top."
Seizing the opportunity, Sima's drone formation streaked forward like swallows into the former center of the illusion array.
A cultivator atop the spirit-gathering pillar traced a circle in the air. A blade-like beam descended. The impact was not merely visual light but simulated pressure waves. Drones spun violently and exploded mid-air.
"Attack!" Rafael shouted, as though he commanded the entire battlefield.
His tanks were gone, but his missile carriers opened fire, initiating the second wave now that targets were visible.
Each candidate chose the optimal strategy. Some used long-range firearms and rockets. Others sent humanoid units into close combat.
More shadowed Dao Cultivators appeared from the void, clashing with mechanical legions. Sword flashes, agile forms dodging bullets, spiritual shields flaring and dissolving. It was as though humanity were witnessing its first war between Dao Cultivator and Intellect Cultivator, though this was only simulation and an entrance examination.
Duong Minh observed calmly. Time pressure bore down. Eighteen minutes total. Nearly five had been spent contesting the first objective.
Dao Cultivators possessed superior mobility and strong defensive capability, though weaker in long-range attack compared to Intellect Cultivator systems. Yet at present, Intellect Cultivator held no advantage. Though rockets and gunfire eliminated several shadow figures, it did not shift the overall balance. Tanks and humanoid robots advancing toward the spirit pillar were swiftly destroyed. Even thick armor could not withstand close-range sword formations.
"Where is the breakthrough?" Duong Minh frowned. Under the chaotic rain of bullets and spiritual explosions, even Sima's ultra-fast drones could not slip through.
"Conventional firepower won't suffice," he thought. "Dao Cultivators excel at agile movement and spiritual shielding. Ordinary ammunition lacks efficiency."
"We must slow the battlefield, then destroy the spirit pillar. That is their source."
The realization flashed like lightning.
Duong Minh directed humanoid units into proximity and launched a volley of stun grenades into the heart of combat.
Explosions thundered.
The Dao Cultivators faltered, raising spiritual barriers. Some shadow figures dropped from the sky like severed kites.
"Now!" Duong Minh shouted.
His suicide drone, synchronized at 98 percent with his neural system, shot forward like a swift swallow. It pierced the hail of fire, slipped past one desperate Dao Cultivator's interception attempt, and detonated against the spirit pillar.
The pillar exploded at its core and collapsed like a felled palm tree. Instantly, the surrounding spiritual density dispersed.
"Increase assault intensity!" Yue Lin called out.
She saw the turning point. Spiritual concentration was falling. This was the advantage of Intellect Cultivator.
Without hesitation, all candidates focused fire upon the central formation zone. Recently stunned and weakened by spiritual decline, the Dao Cultivators faced a devastating barrage of rockets and machine gun fire. Some shadow forms shattered. Others fled skyward and vanished.
"Victory!" Rafael shouted across the channel.
Yue Lin exhaled, though not in triumph. She turned toward Duong Minh's hologram. His eyes were narrowed, not with satisfaction.
"What is it?" she asked privately.
"Ammunition," Duong Minh replied. "We've used nearly half just to capture the first point. Two remain. Thirteen minutes left."
Yue Lin checked the statistics. He was right.
If the next objectives proved equally difficult…
"Then we will fail," she thought. "Unless we become smarter."