The Demonic Cultivator crashed to earth amidst the chaos, utterly overwhelmed. Before he could recover his wits, raise the accursed flute, or muster any counterattack, the vengeful surge of disciples fell upon him. A storm of blades—desperate, uncoordinated, fueled by pain and fury—descended in a flurry of stabbing steel and slashing arcs.
Within moments, the menacing figure lay motionless, a stark testament to vengeance unleashed.
The Illusion's parameters, Gu Qingxi noted coolly as the dust settled. In true combat, a Demonic Cultivator of this aura wouldn't crumble so easily.
The instant the final, pixelated blow landed, the oppressive landscape shimmered and dissolved. Sunlight softened to ambient brilliance; the scent of ozone and iron gave way to something clean and pine-scented. The trial ground vanished, replaced by the familiar surroundings of the staging plateau. They were back. The remaining twenty-odd figures, bearing the ghostly echoes of soul-pain and sonic assault, stood blinking under the real sky. Silence reigned, heavy with exhaustion and dawning realization – they had passed the brutal trial.
Within the Grand Audience Hall:
An equally profound silence held sway. It hung thick and undisturbed, broken only by the faint humming resonance of the Reality Mirror itself. The Sect Leader, the Lords of the various Peaks – Ling Yue, Zi Lin, Yu Ling, and the formidable Mistress of Liuyun Peak – all sat as if sculpted from jade. Their gazes remained locked on the now-blank mirror surface, minds replaying the sheer, audacious chaos unleashed by the double-reeded instrument and its bizarre, sound-blasting companion. It wasn't just victory; it was a victory achieved by smashing the conventional understanding of Resonance Arts with a blunt, resonant hammer.
The stillness stretched, profound and almost awkward.
Finally, a voice sliced through the quiet, coolly amused. "I must say," the Lord of Liuyun Peak stated, her tone smooth as polished stone, a faint, calculated smile playing on her lips, "Gu Qingxi possesses an… unorthodox affinity for the interplay of sound and power. The innovative application of that sonic resonator to augment raw waveform aggression speaks of intuitive genius rather than mere brute force. She truly would thrive… under the refined tutelage of Liuyun Peak." Her sharp gaze lingered not on the illusory battlefield now faded, but seemed drawn to an unseen point, already contemplating the strange artifact Gu Qingxi had wielded. Who forged such a thing? The thought burned. Simplistic in concept, yet so potent in execution! Amplify the voice, magnify the noise… why had it never occurred to her Sect? An intriguing spark lit within her. This Gu Qingxi—impossible to mold, prone to earth-shattering solutions—might just be the unpredictable catalyst her Peak needed. The desire to claim the girl solidified, warming her resolve.
"Junior Sister!" The Lord of Ling Yue Peak spluttered, face flushing with indignation. His carefully cultivated composure cracked. "Have you truly forgotten your own pronouncements? Weren't you the one who declared mere moments ago that the disharmony between her dual affinities would shackle her progress, render her path short? To now claim her as Liuyun's destined disciple—is this not… improper?" This girl, Gu Qingxi, was the disciple he had mentally claimed, the raw potential perfect for his rigorous methods. His sister's opportunistic grab, delivered with such blithe disregard, felt like a dagger twist.
The Mistress of Liuyun Peak tilted her head, her expression one of pure, bewildered innocence. "Spoken? Such words?" Her gaze swept the assembly, utterly guileless. "I recall no such pronouncement, Senior Brother. Who among you can attest to this fabrication?" The blatant denial hung in the air, audacious and absolute.
Shameless! Utterly shameless! The Lord of Ling Yue Peak choked on the accusation dancing on his tongue. He clamped his jaw shut, grinding his teeth until he tasted metal. Survival instinct warred fiercely with outrage. One did not lightly provoke the Mistress of Liuyun Peak, especially on matters of pride and acquisition. Her penchant for resonant retribution was legendary. He swallowed the words, bitterness burning his throat.
A quiet sigh escaped the Sect Leader. Any lingering hope of maneuvering Gu Qingxi towards his own Peak evaporated like morning mist. Disputing a claim with Ling Yue Peak's Lord was one thing; challenging the formidable, newly invested Lady of Liuyun Peak? That way lay only discord. She had declared her interest. Resistance was futile. He yielded gracefully in his heart.
The Lord of Yu Ling Peak (Beast Taming Peak) stroked his long beard, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched the silent confrontation between his fiery junior sister and the visibly seething Senior Brother of Ling Yue. A ripple of pure, unadulterated anticipation stirred within him. Fight! Oh, fight! Truly clash over the seedling! His inner voice crowed silently. He yearned to see the clash of pride, the bristling arguments over a single, exceptional talent. The sweet drama of it all! Never did it occur to him that the chaotic energy swirling around this particular seedling might soon engulf him in a similar struggle. The inherent satisfaction of contradiction, the "Delicious Reversal Prophecy," was a flavor he had yet to savor in this matter.
The Lord of Zi Lin Peak (Violet Forest Peak) maintained his characteristic silence. Yet, his gaze, directed outwards towards the staging plateau, held a new, undeniable warmth. Approval, profound and quiet, settled deeper within him as he contemplated Gu Qingxi's resilience and unconventional brilliance.
Barely twenty-one souls had weathered the three rigorous trials. The Sect Leader surveyed their weary, triumphant forms reflected in his mind's eye and felt a surge of profound gratification. It was the finest yield in recent memory – not merely in number, but crucially, in the unyielding character displayed. Each had faced torment and temptation; each who remained had chosen integrity.
The core trials were concluded. These twenty-one had already earned the right to bear the Tian Qing Sect insignia. What followed was supplementary: short explorations to illuminate potential for specialized paths.
First, a deceptively simple fourth test. Touching an egg. Specifically, a spirit beast egg – raw, potent with nascent life energy, and utterly unhatched.
This was the personal contribution of the Lord of Yu Ling Peak.
"Third Senior Brother," the Mistress of Liuyun Peak's cool voice sliced through the quiet expectancy, tinged with familiar exasperation, "are you truly unyielding in this? Dragging out that… lingering husk you scavenged? Again?"
The Lord of Yu Ling Peak stiffened, his brows furrowing deeply. "It is not a husk, Junior Sister," he corrected firmly, his voice tight. "It is merely awaiting its Destined One."
"Spare me the poetry, Third Brother," she retorted, her sigh heavy. "Wasn't it liberated from some forgotten tomb of a secret realm eight centuries past? You remain utterly clueless as to the lineage it holds, you've exhausted every method known to beast whisperers to coax life from its shell… yet it lies dormant. Define 'lingering husk' any other way?" Her pragmatic gaze fixed on him. "It has been eight centuries! Why cling to this futile obsession? That inert shell you cradle… it holds no treasure!"
"It contains a spirit beast beyond imagining!" he snapped, his temper fraying under her blunt dismissal. "Its lineage is unique! And I sense it! Traces of vitality – faint, yes, precious sparks! – do persist. It is not dead!" To hear his precious charge, carried close and guarded fiercely for eight long centuries, spoken of with such casual disdain was an affront.
"A spark clinging to the precipice of extinction," she countered flatly, offering him a pointed look that conveyed utter, weary dismissal.
"NO!" The denial erupted, forceful and raw. He would not tolerate such words spoken about his sacred charge.
As the brewing storm threatened to spill over—Ling Yue Peak momentarily forgotten—the Sect Leader intervened, massaging his temples. "Enough!" he commanded, his voice cutting through the tension. "Let the test proceed, Third Brother. Perhaps this season's fortune indeed holds the Destined One. Should it awaken…" He paused meaningfully, turning to the Lord of Yu Ling Peak. "...will you gift it freely to the one who kindles its spark?"
"Without hesitation!" Yu Ling Peak's Lord swore, conviction ringing clear. "Whomsoever the egg acknowledges, be they high lord or lowly gardener, they shall become its custodian. And I," he added, his chest swelling slightly, "shall pledge three cycles of provisions suitable for its magnificent lineage." His gaze held the promise. He was a Peak Lord of his word.
"Then we observe," the Sect Leader conceded, knowing his Third Brother's steadfast integrity firsthand. He gestured for silence, turning their collective attention back to the Reality Mirror, which now shimmered to life, displaying a small chamber suffused with muted light.
Within that chamber, the remaining twenty-one candidates filed in one by one, confusion etched on many faces as a senior disciple announced the task: touch the egg upon the obsidian pedestal, channel a wisp of pure Qi into it, and await… something. What "proof of connection" might look like, none knew.
Gu Qingxi and Xu Baozhu lingered at the rear of the line outside the chamber. Xu Baozhu, her earlier battle pallor now replaced by a rosy flush of recovery, was happily chewing on a piece of dried fruit passed to her by Gu Qingxi. The aftermath of the trial seemed momentarily forgotten.
"Mmmmm, Qingxi! What is this?" Xu Baozhu mumbled around a mouthful, her eyes bright with delight despite the curious wrinkle of her nose. "It's truly delicious! Complex! An olfactory… offense," she admitted cheerfully, "yet infinitely preferable to that fermented bean paste we sampled last month. Intriguingly addictive!"
The pungent aroma emanating from the durian fruit roll was indeed distinctive. It had cleared a noticeable circle around them. The other candidates maintained a wary distance, exchanging bewildered glances. The perpetually sword-bearing girl stared at Xu Baozhu with undisguised horror, her stoic composure shattered. The sheer incongruity – this elegant, well-dressed young lady contentedly munching something possessing that particular fragrance – baffled and mildly revolted her sensibilities.
Eventually, the last candidate before them emerged, looking bewildered but otherwise unchanged. Xu Baozhu swallowed the last bite with a satisfied sigh, still marvelling at the paradoxical treat.
"Your turn," Gu Qingxi said gently.
Xu Baozhu nodded, flashing a quick smile. "See you shortly. Still pondering that fruit..." she murmured, already drifting towards the chamber door, absorbed by the lingering taste of her unique snack.
Within the Grand Hall:
The Lord of Yu Ling Peak's earlier irritation with his junior sister had morphed into a deepening gloom. His gaze was locked on the Reality Mirror. One candidate after another stepped forward within the chamber, placed a reverent or hesitant hand upon the pale, palm-sized spirit beast egg, infused a thread of Qi… and waited. The egg, resting on its obsidian stand beneath gentle, warm light emanating from channeled spirit stones embedded in the walls, remained stubbornly, inertly dormant. Like a cold pebble plucked from a riverbed. As face after hopeful face turned away with resignation or simple confusion, the Lord of Yu Ling Peak's expression darkened, the lines around his eyes deepening into valleys of sorrow. His hope dwindled, replaced by a familiar ache of disappointment. Is it truly destined only for dormancy? To fade slowly, quietly extinguishing the last, clinging embers of life until only a lifeless husk remains? Centuries of care, of whispered encouragement, of seeking rare spiritual essences to try and nurture the spark within—all seemingly futile. Acquiring this unique egg eight hundred years prior had cost him dearly, an ordeal wrested from a perilous secret realm sanctuary. He had cherished it like a second heart. That the life within pulsed ever weaker gnawed at him with sharp teeth of despair.
Xu Baozhu entered the chamber. She eyed the unremarkable, round egg with fleeting curiosity, then followed the quiet instructions of the tall young man standing watch nearby. Her palm pressed lightly against the cool, smooth shell. She concentrated, pushing a gentle stream of her own Water-aligned Qi into the egg, mimicking the others.
Nothing.
A faint flicker in the Yu Ling Peak Lord's eyes died. He sank back slightly in his carved seat.
Finally, Gu Qingxi stepped into the hushed chamber. She glanced at the egg, then around at the simple stone room warmed by the soft glow of the spirit stones. Her practical mind clicked. "Ah, so everyone who proves they 'resonate' gets an egg?" she asked conversationally, a note of pleasant surprise in her voice. "Tian Qing Sect's recruitment rewards are quite generous."
"No!" The reaction was sharp, immediate. The senior disciple guarding the egg, tall with keen, intelligent eyes and the subtle aura of one deeply atuned to beasts – the Head Disciple of Yu Ling Peak himself – almost flinched. He knew the history, the deep, quiet, centuries-spanning yearning that had brought this specific egg here. He understood his revered Master's fragility. "Proof of resonance must be shown before the egg… belongs to anyone." He'd once been a young disciple, confident in his unique bond with spirit beasts, certain he would be the Destined One to stir the mystery within this silent shell. Reality had delivered a humbling lesson. The egg remained as unresponsive in his gifted hands as it was in any other's. His Master's sacred hope remained deferred.