Cangyan Royal Capital – Early Morning
The sky was just beginning to lighten, and the golden sun cast its first rays upon the sprawling royal palace. Glorious sunlight spilled across towering walls and gilded rooftops, illuminating everything in sacred brilliance.
Today marked the annual opening of the Ancient Spirit Trial, a long-standing tradition of the royal family.
The Ancient Spirit Realm was a sealed alternate dimension buried deep beneath the capital. A relic from an age long past—rumored to be a remnant of an extinct spiritual civilization—it contained broken spirit veins, shattered formations, and abandoned beast lairs. Normally sealed, it could only be opened by the royal family's ancestral seal.
Each year, royal descendants and noble heirs were allowed entry. Some returned with spiritual treasures and skyrocketing cultivation. Others vanished, their bones never recovered.
Honor and death coexisted in this trial.
In the southern courtyard plaza, a sea of people had already gathered.
Young men and women in battle armor, robed mage apprentices, noble sons, and imperial guards stood in neat lines, all waiting to enter the legendary realm.
Among them, Ye Chen stood quietly in an inconspicuous corner.
He wore a simple moon-white robe—plain and worn—entirely out of place among the lavish silks and dazzling armor. No sword at his side, no battle aura cloaking him. Were it not for his sharp features, he might have been mistaken for a servant.
Derision and mockery swirled around him.
"Am I seeing things? The useless Seventh Prince actually showed up?"
"What's he doing here? Last time he entered the trial, he got chased by a wild boar and nearly died!"
"Haha! Maybe he's here to die properly this time."
Ye Chen's expression didn't change. He heard every word, but ignored them all.
His soul was now fully integrated. His spiritual sea was nearly forty percent restored. His Soul Seal Ring had reconnected to his consciousness. Though his new body had yet to rebuild its foundation, in this world of thin spiritual energy, he had already reached the early Qi Refining stage using divine sense alone.
These so-called "geniuses" were nothing more than blind men walking a cliff's edge.
A familiar cold voice suddenly rang out to his right.
"Well, well... Ye Chen."
Ye Chen turned slightly.
A handsome young man in golden armor approached, his smile calm but tinged with chill.
It was Fourth Prince Ye Chengyu.
The very same man who had orchestrated the ambush that killed this body's previous soul.
Yet now, he wore a look of gentle concern, as though nothing had happened.
"Seventh Brother, are you feeling better? I must say, I'm surprised you had the strength to come today."
Ye Chen offered a faint smile. His gaze was cold. "Thank you for your concern. The dogs you sent after me last night… are resting peacefully now."
Ye Chengyu's smile froze for a moment—but quickly returned.
"Come now, don't joke like that. Father is watching."
His eyes flickered with malice, and his voice lowered:
"Inside the trial, accidents are… unavoidable. You'd best be careful."
Ye Chen's eyes swept past him, landing on the tall platform ahead.
There stood King Ye Yao, ruler of Cangyan.
He was a stern man with sharp eyes and a commanding presence. His gaze was fixed on the trial field, calm but unreadable.
Beside him were robed elders with serene expressions—the Elder Council, keepers of the royal seal and custodians of the trial.
"This trial won't be as simple as it looks," Ye Chen thought.
Before he could dwell further, a great drum sounded. An elderly man with silver hair floated above the crowd, his voice booming across the plaza:
"The seal is lifted! The Trial of Spirits begins!"
"All participants, offer blood at the spiritual monument to awaken the gate. Life and death lie within. May fortune favor the bold!"
One by one, the contenders stepped forward to a massive stone stele at the center of the plaza. Its surface glowed with ancient runes, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Each participant pressed a drop of blood onto the runes. If the seal accepted it, a portal would open—revealing the gateway to the Ancient Spirit Realm.
Ye Chen followed the crowd.
When his turn came, he calmly let a drop of blood fall onto the monument.
Whoosh!
Light flared. A swirling vortex appeared at the base of the stele—a rift to another dimension.
"The Spirit Realm… I've returned," Ye Chen whispered, stepping into the portal.
His body vanished into the light.
…
Inside the realm, a faint mist covered rolling hills and dense forests. Strange flowers bloomed along the edges, and beast calls echoed faintly in the distance.
Ye Chen took a deep breath.
Though the air was thin, he could still sense faint traces of spiritual energy.
Far less than in his past world, but enough.
He sat down immediately, cross-legged, and began circulating the Void Refining Soul Technique, drawing the energy into his meridians.
Within his spiritual sea, the embryonic spirit sword began to resonate faintly.
"Three days more… and my sword will awaken."
He retrieved several herbs from his storage ring. A blue flame flared to life in his palm. A transparent pill furnace slowly formed from energy.
"First, a Condensing Spirit Pill—to stabilize my divine sense."
His movements were practiced and smooth. The flames danced, and the herbs turned to liquid, then vapor, then golden droplets.
If anyone saw this—they would be stunned.
In a world that hadn't even discovered spiritual energy, someone was refining pills with spiritual fire?
Suddenly, noise erupted nearby.
"Get lost! I saw that flower first!"
"No way! It's mine!"
Several youths burst from the trees, fighting over a glowing blue flower.
Ye Chen raised an eyebrow, ready to ignore them—until he heard a mocking voice.
"Well, look who it is. The useless prince is still pretending to cultivate?"
The speaker was Feng Qi, an alchemy student from the capital's Academy and a known lackey of the Fourth Prince.
He was lean and average, but arrogant thanks to his connections.
Ye Chen didn't respond. He simply focused on the pill in his furnace.
Feng Qi's face darkened. "Deaf? Or just dumb?"
He stepped forward, raising his hand to strike the furnace—when—
BOOM!
A surge of spiritual force exploded outward. Feng Qi was thrown several meters back, crashing to the ground.
He clutched his chest in horror. "You… you set a trap?!"
Only now did Ye Chen raise his eyes.
"A little advice," he said coolly. "Next time, think before you act."
Feng Qi's face twisted with humiliation—but he didn't move again.
Around them, the other youths looked shaken. No one laughed now.
Ye Chen collected the finished pill and stood up, hands behind his back.
"A cultivator fights Heaven, Earth, and the Dao—not fools."
With that, he turned and disappeared into the mist.
His journey… had only just begun.