The air in the Headmaster's Tower of Sky University hung thick and still, saturated with the weight of centuries. Behind the vast obsidian desk sat Principal Qin Jiang. At 196 years, his face was a map of time, deep fissures framing eyes as clear and hard as flint, holding depths like ancient bedrock. Snow-white hair was pulled back severely, emphasizing a jawline carved from granite. Simple robes the color of sun-baked earth shimmered faintly. His mere presence exerted pressure, and he smelled perpetually of petrichor and the cool, mineral tang of deep caverns. His hands resting on the obsidian resembled leather wrapped over river stones.
He remembered his path with the stark clarity of stone recording history.
Fifteen. Skinny limbs trembled not from cold, but from the seismic shock within. Awakening wasn't glorious. Stacking clay pots, a sharp shard sliced his palm. As blood dripped onto the dry earth, the clay resonated. Gritty brown light pulsed around him. A single, crude, fist-sized figure of compacted earth lurched from the dirt before crumbling. Terracotta Warrior. Mockery was sharp. But Qin Jiang saw the seed of an army. He trained with terrifying, obsessive devotion. He ascended: Groundtouch, Foundation, Pressure, Chainbound, Breakthrough, Embodiment... and at nineteen, faced the Final Breath Tribulation.
It was the earth itself turning traitor. The ground beneath him liquefied into acidic quicksand, dragging him down into suffocating, lightless depths. Jagged obsidian shards, sharper than scalpels, erupted from the collapsing tunnel walls, slicing deep, ragged gashes that welled dark blood. Ribs cracked like dry kindling under the immense, grinding pressure threatening to compact him into pulp. He choked on thick dust and the coppery flood of his own blood filling his mouth. Spectral hands, cold as winter graves and reeking of decay, clawed at his mind, whispering seductive promises of peaceful oblivion if he surrendered. He endured solely by unbreakable will, clawing his way out bloodied, broken, and gasping, perfected as the Terracotta Warrior at Final Breath. For most, it would be the pinnacle.
Not Qin Jiang. He shattered his own perfection. Reawakening. The Tribulation plunged him into the heart of a collapsing mountain fortress. He fought vengeful spirits of warriors denied burial – their ethereal blades passed through armor to slice wounds deep in his soul that burned with icy agony, their despairing screams echoing centuries of anguish, threatening to fracture his sanity. He battled through corridors slick with phantom gore that smelled of gangrene and ancient battlefields, the stench thick enough to make him retch bile. He conquered, reborn as the Terracotta General. The agonizing climb began anew. At twenty-three, Final Breath again. He shattered it. Reawakening. Tribulation: a desperate siege on a desolate plain drowned in blood and shadow against an endless tide of spectral warlords riding nightmare beasts of bone and darkness. Arrows forged from condensed void pierced his summoned clay guardians; each impact felt like a sledgehammer blow to his own organs, cracking ribs anew. Tsunamis of crushing shadow-cavalry, their hooves like falling anvils, shattered his formations and pulverized bone. He conquered, rising from a field of shattered spectral armor and his own spilled lifeblood. Terracotta Warlord. Final Breath at twenty-eight.
He sought the throne. Reawakening. Tribulation: Divine Judgment. Alone in an obsidian throne room resonating with imperial silence, facing manifestations of Emperors past. Qin Shi Huang condemned his ambition; imperial decrees manifested as crushing weights snapping his collarbone and femur. Wu Zetian tested his resolve with illusions of agonizing betrayal – loved ones plunging knives into his back, the psychic pain flaying his spirit raw. Genghis Khan challenged his right with overwhelming martial fury, a spectral maul crushing his body beneath the unbearable weight and bloody cost of conquest. He endured the bone-deep agony, the gnawing doubt, the crushing isolation of ultimate power, spitting teeth and blood onto the cold stone. He passed. Terracotta Emperor. He climbed once more through fire and torment. At thirty-seven, Final Breath achieved. A flick of his wrist summoned an army of Terracotta Warlords. At forty-six, he mastered the Embodiment Stage. His aura radiated imperious command potent enough to split mountains. His friend, Landowner Li Ru, smelling perpetually of rich loam and sweet pipe smoke, gifted him a valley. "Build," Li Ru said. Sky University was born.
Now, Principal Qin Jiang was the bedrock of DanNuan's premier academy. A soft chime echoed. The air near the door shimmered faintly, smelling of ozone and parchment, resolving into Assistant Mei Lin. Her dark hair was secured in an immaculate bun, her face sharp and intelligent behind functional spectacles. She wore neat grey robes bearing the university crest. She placed a crystal tablet on the obsidian desk. It projected a holographic summary: energy signatures (Ice, Dragon-Lightning, Golden Roc), structural damage assessment (extreme), casualty confirmed (Jun MuoLan, Groundtouch Phase, Golden Roc). "The Azure Dragon scion," Qin Jiang rumbled, his voice a low vibration like distant earthworks. "Awakened. And baptized in blood."
"The energy signatures are conclusive, Principal," Mei Lin confirmed, her tone professional but tight. "The Ice shows Chainbound Phase mastery fused with raw draconic fury. The execution technique was... brutally decisive." The heavy oak door groaned open. Security Chief Ken Lan entered. Built like a fortress wall, his late fifties etched in scars across his shaved head, his eyes were chips of granite. He smelled of oiled leather, gunmetal, and cold stone. He wore reinforced gear bearing the university insignia. "Principal. Mei Lin. Scene's locked down tighter than a miser's vault. Smells like a charnel pit crossed with a lightning strike and the heart of a glacier. The Qing boy did a thorough job... on the apartment and the Jun boy."
"The 'other boy,' Ken Lan," Qin Jiang stated, his flint-grey gaze unmoving, "was Jun MuoLan. Of the Western Ridge Jun family. A bloodline steeped in vengeance." He studied the holographic signature of the fused Frost-Lightning strike. "A Chainbound Ice user, even augmented by a newborn Dragon, should not have overwhelmed a Roc user so utterly. Groundtouch is weak, but evasion... it should have been possible. Was it pride? Or was the Dragon's fury truly a tsunami unleashed from the first breath?"
"Eyewitnesses are spooked sparrows," Ken Lan grunted, crossing thick arms. "Heard crashes like falling masonry, booms like thunderclaps, shrieks fit to curdle blood. Qing KunJue walked out afterwards. Cool as a mountain spring. Focused. Like he'd just finished morning drills, not... that." "Perimeter security drones confirm Qing KunJue returned to his residence block," Mei Lin added, manipulating the tablet. "Jun MuoLan was recorded entering the same building fifteen minutes prior. No interior surveillance survived the... energy discharge."
"Where is Qing KunJue now?" Qin Jiang asked, the pressure in the room subtly increasing, the scent of petrichor deepening. "Reflection Cells. Level 3 containment. Officer Bo Ren is maintaining watch." Bo Ren, a Pressure Stage Ironwood user known for his stoic calm and bark-like skin, stood guard. "And the Jun family?" "Formally notified," Mei Lin replied. "Unofficial channels report significant upheaval. Jun Feng, the elder brother, recently achieved the Breakthrough Stage with his Golden Roc gen... is demanding blood price. Loudly and with heat."
Qin Jiang was silent for a long, heavy moment. The weight in the room intensified, tangible now. "Bring him. Qing KunJue. To the Observation Atrium. I will look upon this nascent storm myself." "Principal," Mei Lin interjected carefully, "established protocols dictate a formal inquiry board, especially given the involvement of significant clan heirs—" "Protocols," Qin Jiang cut across her, an ancient, implacable finality entering his low rumble, "are clay to be shaped by necessity. An Azure Dragon flexed its claws within my walls. A life, however flawed, is extinguished. I will gaze into the eyes of this storm, measure the weight of its fury, before boards convene. Growing stronger is a fight against the world itself; this was merely its opening skirmish. Bring him. Now."
Mei Lin nodded sharply and vanished with a faint ozone hum. Ken Lan simply grunted, "Understood," and left, his heavy boots thudding on the stone floor. Qin Jiang rose with surprising, silent grace for one seeming carved from the mountain, moving to the vast window overlooking the sprawling university. At 196, the clash of students was a pebble in the stream of his existence. Yet... the raw, untamed fury of the Azure Dragon, fused with the ruthless efficiency of Chainbound Ice... it resonated like a deep tremor through bedrock. He remembered his own first kill centuries past – messy, desperate, necessary survival. This... felt different. Conquest born of awakened arrogance? Or the chillingly efficient first step on a path he knew all too intimately – the path where power demands sacrifice, and obstacles are simply pulverized?
The Observation Atrium was a cool, sterile space of reinforced crystal overlooking a secure, empty courtyard. Mei Lin reappeared, accompanied by two stern-faced security officers escorting Qing KunJue. The young man walked with head held unnervingly high, his raven-black hair slightly disheveled, his sapphire-blue eyes fixed straight ahead with fierce, chilling focus. He wore standard student fatigues, smelling faintly of ozone, the sharp bite of ice, and beneath it, the stubborn iron tang of dried blood. He stopped before the crystal window, sensing the immense presence behind him but not yet turning. Ken Lan stood nearby, radiating solid vigilance. Officer Bo Ren, his skin textured like ancient bark, stood silently beside KunJue, an immovable barrier.
Principal Qin Jiang stepped forward, his movement causing no sound yet drawing every molecule of attention. He stopped a few paces behind KunJue, his flint-grey gaze boring into the young man's back with the weight of geological epochs. "Qing KunJue," the voice filled the atrium, deep, resonant, inescapable as mountain roots. "Scion of the Azure Dragon. You stand within Sky University, where knowledge and power are forged. You have taken a life within these bounds. Look at me."
The command was absolute. KunJue turned slowly. His sapphire eyes, burning with cold fury, met Qin Jiang's flint-grey. For a fleeting instant, the raw defiance KunJue carried flared – draconic arrogance against the immovable mountain. He saw not just an old man, but the weight – the aura of command potent enough to split peaks, the silent resonance of countless legions waiting only for a thought, the crushing depth of time. KunJue's jaw tightened visibly, tendons standing out. There was no fear, only a chilling, resolute certainty and the simmering tempest within. Qin Jiang saw it all: the disciplined control of Chainbound Ice, the raw, volcanic potential of the newborn Dragon, the absolute absence of remorse, the diamond-hard, unyielding will. He saw the imposing shadow of Qing YunLang, yes, but also something else – something fiercer, colder, forged not in clan halls but in the blood-soaked wreckage of a student apartment. He saw the echo of his own younger, relentless self, but tempered in a different, perhaps far darker fire. "You awakened great power, young Dragon," Qin Jiang stated, his voice devoid of judgment, merely carving fact from the air. "With your first breath, you chose conquest over restraint. You shattered a life as casually as you shattered that dwelling." He paused, the silence thickening like cooling magma. "Sky University is a forge, not a battlefield for vendettas. Growing stronger is a fight against the world. The question now, Qing KunJue, is what will be forged from the fire you have ignited? And what price will you pay to wield it?" The ancient eyes, holding the weight of mountains and the passage of centuries, locked onto the young Dragon's, an immovable monument assessing the first tremors of a potentially world-shattering quake. "This talk is sufficient. Return him."
The user's crucial addition reveals the profound depth of the Mutative Gen system: Reawakening is not a predetermined path, but a choice defining the soul's relationship with its power. When a master shatters their perfected Final Breath form, they don't merely evolve upwards; they choose a direction, branching into distinct archetypes embodying different facets of their Gen's potential. Each path demands a unique Tribulation testing specific virtues and imposing its own destiny.
Qin Jiang's Crossroads: Beyond the General
When Qin Jiang shattered his Terracotta Warrior (Final Breath), he didn't have to become a Terracotta General. He stood at a nexus of potential paths, each a different expression of "earth given sentient form and purpose." The Tribulations offered would have reflected the chosen archetype:
1. The Mineral Ascendant Paths:
o Metal Warrior: Focus: Unyielding hardness, cutting edge, structural integrity. Tribulation:Trapped within a collapsing celestial forge, molten metal rivers seeking to dissolve him, while spectral smiths hammered his spirit into shape. He must become harder than adamantium, sharper than grief. Power: Warriors become living statues of polished steel, blades for limbs, radiating crushing magnetic fields. Legend Pose: Adamantine Colossus – towers of shimmering, inviolable metal.
o Gold Warrior: Focus: Value, radiance, imperishable worth, alchemical transformation. Tribulation: Buried alive in a cavern of cursed gold that drains life force, facing Midas-like temptations turning allies to gold statues. He must resist corruption while finding true, incorruptible value within. Power: Warriors gleam like living bullion, strikes carry transmutative energy (temporarily turning objects/energy to inert gold), aura radiates debilitating "wealth sickness." Legend Pose: Gilded Imperator – surrounded by floating shields of solidified value, capable of economic warfare on a macro scale.
o Jade Warrior: Focus: Spiritual purity, harmony, healing earth energies, mystical connection. Tribulation: Navigating a labyrinthine garden of poisonous, sentient jade flora while cleansing corrupted earth spirits. Requires immense patience, empathy, and spiritual resilience. Power:Warriors possess jade-like skin radiating soothing/chilling auras, mend stone and bone with a touch, project waves of tranquilizing or purifying energy. Legend Pose: Jade Sanctifier – emanates vast fields of healing/calming energy or localized zones of petrifying stillness.
2. The Command Path:
o Grandmaster Warrior: Focus: Tactical genius, empowering/commanding other warriors (not necessarily clay), strategic mastery over terrain. Tribulation: Simultaneously commanding a doomed spectral army against impossible odds on multiple shifting battlefields while his ownpower is sealed. Pure test of mind, leadership, and sacrifice. Power: Can temporarily imbue allies with terracotta-like resilience/skill, reshape battlefields instantly, project tactical holograms that disorient foes. Legend Pose: Strategic Overlord – projects a vast, real-time tactical map, his commands altering reality within its bounds.
3. The Mythic Paths (Extremely Rare & Dangerous):
o Terracotta Qilin: Focus: Benevolence, divine judgment, purifying corruption, auspicious power. Tribulation: Treading a path through a blighted land, healing corrupted earth and pacifying tormented spirits without violence, while resisting the seductive power of righteous fury. Power:Warriors gain Qilin aspects (single horn, fiery mane/cloven hooves), emit purifying auras, walk on air/water, detect and nullify malice. Legend Pose: Auspicious Earth-Sovereign – summons spectral Qilin guardians, purifies vast areas of corruption, blesses land.
o Terracotta Dragon: Focus: Primordial earth power, volcanic fury, tectonic mastery, hoarding strength. Tribulation: Chained within the planet's molten core, wrestling a primordial earth dragon spirit for dominance, enduring crushing pressure and volcanic fury. Power: Warriors gain draconic scales/claws, breath weapon of magma or seismic shards, cause localized earthquakes. Legend Pose: Tectonic Wyrm – partially merges with the landscape, causing massive eruptions/fault lines.
o Four Terracotta Spirits Path: Focus: Elemental embodiment within earth (Stone Tiger, Earthen Ox, Crystal Serpent, Obsidian Tortoise). Tribulation: Four simultaneous, personalized trials embodying the spirit chosen (e.g., Tiger: Hunted in a jungle of razorsharp crystals; Ox: Pulling a continent-sized plough; Serpent: Navigating a maze of living gemstone; Tortoise: Enduring eternal erosion). Power: Warriors permanently embody aspects of their chosen spirit (Tiger's ferocity/speed, Ox's strength/endurance, Serpent's cunning/venom, Tortoise's defense/gravity control). Legend Pose reflects the specific Spirit (Mountain-Crushing Ox, Venom-Shedding Serpent King, etc.).