The moment Tian Rui's palm touched the altar, the chamber vanished.
He was floating.
No sky. No ground. No direction.
Only light—not bright, but sharp. Like blades of memory slicing through fog. All around him, fragments of voices echoed, familiar and not.
"Unworthy."
"Mistake."
"He carries the root. Kill him before it wakes."
The relic pulsed at his chest. Not as a weapon now—but as an anchor. His breathing slowed. Control returned.
Then, the light began to twist.
It curled into a spiral, then cracked—revealing a massive door. Not made of stone or wood, but pure essence. The surface rippled like water and fire, held together by ancient sigils that pulsed with Tian Rui's heartbeat.
He stepped forward.
The closer he came, the heavier the air grew. Like the pressure of a mountain had shifted onto his shoulders. He dropped to a knee but forced himself up again. Blood leaked from his nose. His bones ached.
But his eyes never left the door.
As he reached out, a voice unlike the others thundered from deep within.
"What will you trade to pass?"
He hesitated.
Then he answered.
"Everything I was."
Silence.
Then—
"Accepted."
The door shattered.
A wave of energy struck him, burning through his body like fire and ice fused into a single storm. The relic surged. His veins glowed—rootless veins—and then cracked, reforming. Like branches.
He screamed—but he didn't break.
Instead, he awakened.
---
The real world slammed back into view. Lyen stood by the altar, shouting his name. Veylan's eyes were wide, unreadable for the first time.
Tian Rui rose slowly. The air around him trembled. His aura was no longer just present—it resonated.
The altar had gone dark.
His relic, once dormant and subtle, now pulsed with a rhythm like a second heart. His spirit core—once dim and shallow—had erupted into life.
Lyen gasped. "You… you opened it."
Veylan stepped forward, voice lower. "The First Gate. The gateway to true cultivation. And it accepted you."
Tian Rui stared at his hands. Faint lines of glowing script had etched themselves into his skin, spiraling like the mark on the altar.
"But why me?"
Veylan gave a grim smile. "Because the heavens don't fear strength. They fear a root that grows outside their garden."