The Observation Hall of Nalanda towered like a temple built for gods. Its pillars were carved with lotus flames and ancient mantras, glowing faintly with blue-gold light. A dome of crystal arched overhead, and in the very center floated a colossal silver mirror, broad as a pond, its surface rippling with shifting images.
The mirror showed the trial jungle in real time — every beast, every candidate, every breath.
Dozens of elders and masters of Nalanda sat in half-circle tiers around it, robed in gold, crimson, and ivory. Their auras were heavy, restrained like coiled dragons. Each one could crush kingdoms with a gesture, yet here they sat like patient examiners, observing.
An elder with a hawk nose tapped his cane against the marble floor. "Begin recording evaluations. Every movement counts — arrogance, composure, adaptability."
Quills moved on scrolls.
All the elders in the hall start, judging their candidates for instructors.
At first, they saw a reckless candidate with Very Huge Hulk type build with water sword in his sheath grabbing onto it and flying above the forest to get out of it quickly.
Raghava – Chakra stage 6, first step
but instead of their expectations, he died immediately by the thunderbolt that hit him critically on the head and falls on the ground like a mannequin.
Elders muttered saying, "he was definitely overconfident man. He died without even trying."
One section of the mirror focused on a giant-shouldered warrior with a hammer the size of a tree trunk. His token pulsed:
Dharma – Chakra Stage 4, Third Step.
He swung wildly at a shadow beast, breaking its skull.
"Strength, yes," muttered one elder, "but his control bleeds everywhere. He'll burn out before the hour ends."
Another part of the mirror shifted — a slender woman cloaked in red veils, eyes like burning coals.
Anika – Chakra Stage 5, First Step.
She manipulated threads of flame around her, weaving them into spears. Two beasts were pinned at once.
"Sharp. Efficient," an elder noted. "But she relies on killing blows. What will she do when faced with an opponent she cannot kill?"
Elsewhere, a pale scholar with talismans strapped across his arms stumbled, frantically pressing scrolls that created barriers.
Govind – Chakra Stage 3, Seventh Step.
The barrier shattered instantly as a beast crushed through. The scholar screamed and fled.
A dry chuckle passed through the elders. "Dead weight. He won't last ten minutes."
On and on the judgments went. Every candidate was dissected not by kindness, but by cold precision.
Then the mirror flickered.
A tiny figure darted across the jungle floor, black cloak flapping, two void gauntlets gleaming like obsidian stars.
Aditya Raj – Chakra Stage 3.
The elders fell into a strange silence.
One finally scoffed. "Who allowed a child to enter? Is this a jest?"
But the scoff died quickly. The child — no, the boy — wasn't stumbling or crying. He was sprinting. Dodging. Punching through obstacles with fists that detonated like cannons.
His laughter echoed faintly even through the mirror.
"Nuh-uh, you can't catch me!"
An elder leaned forward, stroking his beard. "He speaks like a child… and that body… but his moves... and his balance, they are remarkably refined like he has fight for more than a decade. He is definitely a veteran."
Another frowned. "No ordinary disguise technique could be this stable. And look — his movements. Too polished for a child."
The hawk-nosed elder tapped his notes. "Either a genius masking himself… or an ancient cultivator playing the fool."
The mirror magnified Aryan's antics. He wasn't fighting beasts like the others — he was running circles, punching down trees at random bouncing at trunks and roots like a fast squirrel with a movement, speed of a cheetah.
Candidates scattered in panic as half the jungle's horrors chased behind him. To the elders, though, it looked like deliberate battlefield control.
"He's… redirecting aggro."
"Not just that. Look at the rhythm of his movements. He's herding the monsters exactly where he wants them."
"A tactical prodigy, playing the fool to lower suspicion."
The boy tripped, crashed into a tree, and bounced up again as a falling branch crushed a beast by accident.
The elders nodded gravely. "Flawless improvisation."
System (unheard):
[Correction: He's not improvising. He's an idiot lucky enough to fall in the right direction.]
The elders quieted as the mirror shifted once more. Aryan — the "boy genius" — sprinted toward the center of the jungle, cloak snapping, gauntlets blazing.
There, the altar pulsed — the Heart of the Jungle, brimming with raw chakra like a beating organ.
One elder sat straighter, his aura pressing the air. "Impossible. That altar is hidden from the senses by the formation itself. How did he…"
Another whispered, eyes gleaming. "He knows. He knows exactly where the core lies."
The elders watched as Aryan stood before it, tiny against the storm of energy, hands flexing.
"Prepare notes," the hawk-nosed elder said quietly. His voice trembled — not with fear, but awe. "This boy… is about to attempt what even our best avoid."
The mirror quivered as Aryan raised his gauntlets.
The mirror's surface rippled again, magnifying the centre of the jungle's core.
The Heart of the Jungle pulsed like a living organ — veins of light crawling across its surface in the form of roots, hiding the vast formation inside it, spilling waves of chakra into the air.
Every beat bent the trees, every throb made the ground tremble.
They have made this formation to make candidates get confused in the jungle, because some masters sense around them with the use of Chakra detection, but this formation makes their that skill useless, and they will need to use their knowledge to get around it or help each other.
They have already thought that they will give the ranks on the basis of how they complete this trial.
The elders in the hall straightened unconsciously. Their voices grew low, reverent.
One, an old woman with skin like parchment, whispered:
"The Heart… so he found it."
Another, younger, scoffed nervously:
"To find it is one thing. To touch it… that's suicide."
The hawk-nosed elder tapped his cane sharply. "Correct. The Heart isn't a prize. It's a test of restraint. The chakra within is far too dense. If you try to absorb it without mastery, it will clash with the energy already in your body. Even a Stage 4 cultivator risks bursting like an overfilled wineskin."
His eyes narrowed on Aryan's tiny frame. "And that boy is merely Stage 3."
In the jungle, Aryan tugged his cloak tighter, flexed his gauntlets, and tilted his head at the glowing centre of jungle.
"Huh. This way, I will be able to absorb everything in proportionate ratio and it also looks shiny. Guess it's mine now."
System:
[Warning: That centre contains more chakra than you've ever seen. If you absorb it, your organs will explode like festival fireworks at Diwali.]
Aryan grinned. "Eh, festivals are fun."
The elders in the hall leaned forward, their faces etched with disbelief.
"He's… approaching it."
"No… he's claiming it."
"Does he intend to refine the Heart directly?!"
One elder stood abruptly. "Madness! No child, no mortal, should dare such a thing."
The mirror showed it clearly — Aryan raised his gauntleted fist, then without hesitation slammed it into the altar.
BOOM.
The Heart shrieked. Light flared outward like a solar eruption. Trees ripped apart at the roots, leaves disintegrated into ash. Beasts collapsed, howling as their borrowed chakra was torn away.
Aryan's tiny body lit up like a lantern — Sanskrit inscriptions blazing across his skin, veins glowing molten gold.
He screamed, but not in pain — in ecstasy.
"Feast mode: activated!"
System:
[Correction: Cultivators refine energy slowly. You're vacuuming it like a drunk with a straw.]
The Observation Hall trembled with the mirror's feedback.
Elders gasped, robes flaring as they stood in disbelief.
"He's… absorbing it directly!"
"No, he's devouring it. That's not refinement — that's consumption!"
"Impossible. He should have burst already. Why hasn't he?"
The hawk-nosed elder clenched his cane until it cracked. "Because… he isn't resisting it. He's letting it overwrite him. Madness… yet brilliance."
Another elder whispered, awe creeping into his tone:
"A boy who can do what Stage 4 cannot… Is this talent? Or something more terrifying?"
Aryan laughed manically as light poured into him.
His gauntlets glowed upgrading themselves from all the Chakra coming through them into the body of Aryan making only 40% Chakra getting received to Aryan.
Because, these gauntlets like sucking Chakra out of their users.
But as they are getting more Chakra from outside.
They both are absorbing it like maniacs.
His inscriptions pulsed.
His hair whipped upward in the storm.
System:
[these gauntlets and its master has gone completely insane. Both are pure maniacs.]
But inside… his reserves was unable to fill itself. Chakra slammed into his veins like waves into a cracked dam not receiving as much Chakra as he thought.
System:
[and here I was thinking that you would be able to advance to next stage with this much chakra. Further intake will not advance you. You will be stopped before Stage 2.]
Aryan bared his teeth. "Then I'll Suck every drop of Chakra from this Jungle!"
The elders saw the signs differently.
"He's… halting?"
"No… look! He's stabilizing. He must have some secret method. To draw this much and remain alive… astounding."
One master pressed his palms together, voice hushed with respect.
"We are witnessing a cultivator who has surpassed the boundary of restraint. He's not being swallowed — he's commanding the Heart itself."
A silence fell heavy.
The hawk-nosed elder finally said what all were thinking:
"This boy… no, this master in disguise… he broke our formation."
The mirror flickered violently as the Heart of the Jungle formation buckled under Aryan's reckless assault.
The heart of formation cracked, streams of pure chakra bursting upward like molten rivers. The entire formation screamed — a living cage unraveling.
Aryan's inscriptions burned brighter, his body swelling with energy, but suddenly—
It stopped.
The torrent of light flickered, then thinned to a trickle. The veins of the heart dimmed, gasping like a dying beast.
Aryan blinked. "Wait… what? That's it? You're tapped out already?"
[Warning: Your reserves are still incomplete. You needed triple this amount to advance. Congratulations. You've killed the jungle for nothing.]
Aryan stomped his foot. "Oi! That's cheating. A whole jungle's worth of chakra and I still can't break through to Stage 2?!"
[Correction: Normal cultivators refine carefully. You inhaled it like an idiot drinking river water. Half of it leaked out of your ears.]
Aryan clutched his ears, panicked. "Wait, really?!"
[…No. But you deserve the panic.]
In the Observation Hall, the elders gasped as the heart dimmed faintly.
"He's… drained it."
"No. He's exhausted the formation itself."
"That's impossible! The Heart was built to last a hundred trials. Even Stage 5 prodigies couldn't empty it."
The hawk-nosed elder's hands shook on his cane.
"He didn't escape the jungle. He destroyed the prison."
A silence swallowed the room. Some elders looked terrified, others almost reverent.
"This boy… this master in disguise… has shattered what Nalanda itself prepared."
The mirror shifted, focusing near the heart of the jungle.
There, lying amidst scorched roots and fallen trees, was the charred figure of the Stage 6 cultivator, Raghava — the arrogant youth struck down by lightning at the trial's beginning.
His chest rose faintly. Not dead. Just unconscious.
The hall stirred with alarm.
"Impossible. His trial avatar perished — how can his body be preserved?"
"It seems this boy's rampage disrupted the very rules of the formation. Even death… couldn't take root."
Aryan crouched near Raghava's unconscious form, poking him with a stick.
"Heh. died very fast huh. Guess you're not so crispy after all."
Elders, comment over the scene, this man was supposed to be the strongest candidate. yet he turned into forest garnish or fertiliser. It is yet to be decided.
Aryan scratched his head. "Well, not my fault he didn't have plot armor."
In the Observation Hall, the atmosphere thickened.
One elder spoke quietly, voice trembling:
"If he could collapse the Heart, what will happen when he faces the students?"
Another muttered, horrified:
"He might kill them… without even trying."
The hawk-nosed elder shut his eyes. "We will need to warn him. Tell him to restrain himself… or else Nalanda's prodigies may not survive their own teacher."
The hall fell into a tense silence, broken only by the crackle of the fading mirror image — Aryan standing proudly in the ruins, hands on his hips, grinning like an idiot.
[System: Congratulations. You are now officially the single biggest environmental disaster in academy history.]
Aryan puffed out his chest. "Legendary, right?"
The grand hall of Nalanda buzzed with voices, the giant mirror still glowing with images from the jungle trial. Elders leaned forward, robes rustling, their eyes wide with disbelief.
On the screen, Aryan stood in the ruined core of the jungle, still glowing faintly with stolen chakra. He dusted his hands like he had just finished sweeping a courtyard.
Elder 1 (Chakra Stage 5) slapped the table. "This is absurd! No cultivator below Chakra 4 could survive that concentration of raw energy. His body should've burst like an overfilled water pot!"
Elder 2 (Chakra Stage 6) pointed at the mirror, trembling. "Then explain why that brat is eating it like free ladoos!"
The hall erupted in noise.
Elder 3 muttered, "He's not cultivating—he's… feasting."
Elder 4 groaned. "Is this a boy or a demon?"
At that moment, the Principal finally rose. The air hushed instantly. His mere presence carried the weight of mountains — Chakra Stage 7, First Step. His gaze was calm, but the twitch of his eyebrow betrayed his irritation.
Principal: "Enough. Whoever this boy is, he is no ordinary candidate. Prepare for his arrival."
As if on cue—
CRASH!
The formation that was supposed to hold out, exploded and send everyone in different directions.
The mirror rippled, and Aryan suddenly tumbled out of thin air into the hall, landing face-first on the polished stone floor. Leaves stuck in his hair, his cloak half-burned, his gauntlets still faintly smoking.
He scrambled up, grinning like a fool. "Yo! Am I late? Or early? Do I get snacks? Because after so much Chakra, I need something to eat, moreover I can eat a elephant right now."
The entire elder council froze.
Elder 1 whispered, "He… he's still smiling…"
Elder 2: "Smiling?! Look at him! He just broke a Chakra 5 formation like it was clay pottery!"
Elder 3 clutched his chest. "My eighty years of cultivation feel wasted."
[System: Congratulations, you just broke one of Nalanda's top protective formations. Please collect your Nobel Prize in environmental destruction at the counter.]
Aryan puffed his chest proudly. "Heard that? I'm a prizewinner now."
Principal exhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Child… do you even understand what you've done?"
Aryan scratched his head. "Uh… did you burn your garden?"
[System: Yes. You didn't burn his Garden. Instead, you destroyed his garden completely.]
Elder 4 slammed his palm on the table. "Principal, this boy cannot be allowed to fight normal students! If he sneezes, he might kill half of them!"
The Principal's eyes narrowed. "We will… instruct him to restrain himself."
All eyes turned to Aryan. He stood there innocently, munching on a spirit stone he had pulled from his cloak like it was candy.
Aryan gave a thumbs-up. "Don't worry! I'll hold back. I'm very gentle."
[System: Correction — You are about as gentle as a bull in a temple.]
Elders panicked even more. "Did you hear that? He admits he can't control himself!"
Another elder whispered, "Or… is he bluffing? Maybe this is a disguise. Maybe he's an old monster pretending to be a child."
Aryan beamed, completely misunderstanding their fear. "Yup, that's me! Old monster! Super scary!" He roars playfully to make their stress, go away, but instead.
The elders nearly fainted.
The Principal sighed like a teacher with the world's most problematic student. His voice rumbled with command:
"Fine. Then let us see… if this monster can become a teacher."
The hall shook with anticipation. Aryan just grinned wider, oblivious.
[System: History books are going to regret including your name in the list of teachers.]
Aryan: "Nah, they'll call me a genius teacher. Right, elders?"
The elders all exchanged looks of pure despair not knowing what to say about his habit of talking to himself, like a maniac or creating a chaos like a maniac.