The wind blew gently across the massive dueling platforms as the last of the outer disciples were called forward.
One platform in particular began to glow-**Platform Thirteen**, engraved with glowing runes and ringed with stone pillars that hummed faintly with spiritual energy. The elder overseeing it raised his voice:
> "Group Forty-One. Assemble."
Shadow walked quietly through the crowd toward the designated arena, his black outer court robes swaying at his ankles. Around him, disciples were already gathering-some chatting, others sharpening blades, a few wearing quiet smiles that didn't reach their eyes.
Fifty disciples. Fifty names.
Only ten would walk away.
Shadow took position near the edge of the platform. He didn't speak. Didn't look around. He simply felt the wind, the pressure of Qi, and the pulse of gathering intent.
A few feet away, a short, sharp-voiced youth scoffed.
> "Tch. Look at him-slinking in like some ghost."
Another voice-older, heavier, with a cold tone-spoke next.
> "That's Elder Yan's mutt, isn't it? The one who never bowed when we passed by."
Shadow turned slightly. Two figures stood together.
- **Mu Chen**, tall, heavy-armed, skin scarred from constant hand-to-hand duels. Known for his brute Qi fists and grudge against Elder Yan's unorthodox methods.
- **Lian Ho**, the sharp-eyed son of a minor sect elder, who once challenged Elder Yan's seat during a meeting and lost.
> "Surprised he even made it this far," Lian Ho muttered. "Waste like his master."
Shadow said nothing.
> "Don't ignore me, dog."
Still, silence.
Mu Chen cracked his knuckles. "Think you're strong now, do you? We'll see how long that act lasts once fists start flying."
---
### **The Judge's Words**
The presiding elder stepped onto a hovering platform beside the arena.
> "Disciples of Group Forty-One, this is your first test."
> "Fifty enter. Ten remain. The rules are simple: remain conscious and on the platform. Step off or lose awareness-you are out."
> "Spiritual formation will prevent lethal injuries, but **pain is very real.**"
The elder raised his hand.
> "Begin."
---
### **The First Pulse**
Chaos.
That was the only word to describe it.
Disciples rushed forward in a wave of steel and spirit energy. Swords clanged. Spears lashed. Palms slammed into chests. A bolt of lightning tore through the air, grazing a tree-sized stone pillar and cracking it halfway through.
Shadow didn't move.
He watched.
Waited.
Studied.
A blade-user on the left-quick but clumsy. A formation-user near the center-already setting up talismans. A pair working together, clearly from the same regional clan.
But it was the ones who said nothing that interested him most.
Mu Chen.
Lian Ho.
And one more-**Qiu Yao**, a girl with blood-red nails and a whip coiled at her hip. She hadn't said a word, but her gaze never left Shadow since the moment he arrived.
> "They want me," Shadow thought. "Good."
Let them come.
---
### **Flash and Fang**
A dagger-wielding disciple rushed in, targeting Shadow early-likely thinking he was passive prey.
Shadow stepped sideways.
One movement.
One draw.
**Flash Blade Art - Pulse One.**
A red line cut across the attacker's wrist. He screamed, dropping the blade, only to be shoved off the platform seconds later by another fighter.
Shadow stepped back into the flow of the storm.
Elsewhere, Lian Ho launched **Storm Needle Art**, summoning thin, pointed darts made of compressed Qi that hovered around him. They spun like orbiting blades as he engaged two disciples near the center.
Mu Chen, meanwhile, was laughing-**bare-fisted**, smashing a short spear in half and tossing its user across the arena like a sack of grain.
> "Not yet," Shadow whispered.
He moved lightly, weaving between fights.
Let the others clash.
Let blood boil.
He was looking for **openings**-and for now, they weren't ready.
---
### **The Circle Closes**
After ten minutes, ten disciples were already out-some unconscious, some thrown clean from the edge. Cries of pain echoed. Sweat slicked foreheads. Qi burned heavier in the air.
That's when Lian Ho turned, locking eyes with Shadow again.
> "Time's up."
He pointed his fingers, and five Qi needles launched straight toward Shadow's chest.
Shadow's blade snapped up-**deflecting four**.
The fifth grazed his shoulder.
Pain bloomed. Not serious. But felt.
Lian Ho smiled. "You're not untouchable, waste."
He rushed in.
---
### **Clash Begins**
Lian Ho fought like a hawk-striking from angles, hovering around just out of full reach. His spiritual art enhanced short dashes, making him flicker and shift mid-lunge.
Shadow blocked three strikes in a row.
Then countered.
**Pulse Two.**
The blade lashed across Lian's sleeve-cutting, but shallow. The boy backed up instantly, gritting his teeth.
> "Fast... bastard," he hissed.
But he wasn't alone.
A sudden force slammed toward Shadow from the right.
**Mu Chen.**
His massive fist was surrounded by orange-gold Qi, like a hammer of light.
> "Elder Yan should've stayed dead!"
> *BOOM!*
Shadow braced-took the hit on his blade arm and was thrown back three meters. He hit the ground rolling.
His arm pulsed in pain.
> "That fist... carries weight."
> "Real Foundation strength."
Mu Chen and Lian Ho moved toward him together.
> "Let's break him early," Mu Chen grinned.
Shadow rose slowly.
The crowd above began to murmur.
> "He's being targeted."
> "Those two... they've wanted this for years."
> "But he's still not scared."
Indeed-Shadow's eyes were calm.
His blade steady.
His aura low.
But now...
He would fight.
> "Let's begin," he said softly.