The summoning bell rang at dusk.
Its chime was low, vibrating through the stone walls of the Fallen Star Sect like a warning whispered through bone. Disciples paused mid-training. Elders closed their scrolls. The mountain seemed to hold its breath.
Jiang Xuan opened his eyes.
He already knew what it meant.
They were calling him.
---
The Skyheart Arena had only been used once in the last decade — to suppress a rogue cultivator who had lost control during a heavenly tribulation. He exploded mid-sentence.
Now the arena had been restructured. Warding pillars ringed the edges. Symbols glowed in five-colored light, each belonging to one of the five great suppression schools of the continent. A complex formation surrounded the center like a cage woven from light and fate.
Elder Wen stood at its edge, robes rustling in the rising wind. His face was carved from stone.
"Are we ready?" asked another elder.
Wen didn't look away from the formation. "No. But we must proceed."
Above them, Grandmaster Yao arrived with quiet steps. His gaze swept across the arena, lingering on the center platform.
Yao Xi stood in the shadows behind the crowd, arms folded. Her expression unreadable.
She knew what this was.
It was a test.
But also a threat.
If Jiang Xuan lost control, they would call it a mercy.
If he didn't, they'd call it proof.
Proof he could be used.
---
Jiang Xuan stepped into the arena.
He wore no armor.
No cloak.
Just simple training robes, torn slightly at the collar, the mark on his neck now visibly curling over his collarbone like black ink spilled on silk.
"Do you know why you're here?" Grandmaster Yao asked.
"To prove I'm not what you think I am."
"Are you?"
Jiang Xuan smiled slightly.
"I was hoping you'd tell me."
A few chuckles rippled through the crowd. Nervous. Tense.
Wen raised his hand, and the formation flared to life.
Sparks of spiritual light shot through the air, forming a translucent sphere around Jiang Xuan. Symbols crawled along the barrier walls, tightening, sealing. The platform beneath his feet trembled.
"The formation will scan your spiritual core," Wen said. "If it senses corruption, the suppression field will engage."
"And if it's wrong?"
"Then may the heavens forgive you."
---
At first, nothing happened.
The sphere glowed. The symbols rotated. Jiang Xuan stood still.
Then the light turned red.
The wind stopped.
And the mark on Jiang Xuan's neck pulsed once—hard enough to crack a rune beneath his feet.
The air screamed.
Suddenly, chains of golden light erupted from the ground, lashing toward him like serpents.
He didn't move.
They wrapped around his wrists, chest, throat.
The elders shouted as the formation flared dangerously high — too fast, too soon.
"He's resisting!"
"No… he's not resisting. He's—"
Accepting.
---
Inside the sphere, Jiang Xuan closed his eyes.
And saw it again.
The battlefield. The fire. The screams.
But this time, he didn't flinch.
He walked forward — through the vision, through the storm — until he stood before the towering shadow with no face.
The Demon God.
Himself.
It turned toward him.
Not to fight.
To kneel.
A whisper echoed in his mind.
"You are ready."
---
In the real world, the chains began to burn — not with heat, but with darkness. The light dimmed. The runes warped.
Jiang Xuan's body lifted an inch from the ground, hair rising in defiance of gravity.
A wave of black qi exploded outward from his chest.
The barrier shattered.
Elders raised shields. One was thrown backward, robes torn.
And then—
Silence.
Jiang Xuan stood in the center, eyes glowing faintly red.
The chains had dissolved into ash.
He looked up at the elders.
"Was that the test?"
---
Yao Xi moved before they could speak.
She stepped into the shattered arena, hands raised, not in defense—but understanding.
"Enough," she said.
Elder Wen started to protest, but Grandmaster Yao raised a hand. "Let her speak."
Yao Xi faced Jiang Xuan.
For a moment, the crowd was gone. The arena faded. It was just them.
"You felt it, didn't you?" she said.
Jiang Xuan nodded. "It's no longer knocking."
"It's entering."
"…Yes."
"Do you want it?"
He didn't answer right away.
Then:
"I don't know."
---
The Grandmaster stepped forward.
"This confirms it. He cannot be bound."
Elder Wen shook his head. "He didn't lash out. He didn't attack."
"No," Yao Xi said. "He submitted. That's worse. It means he's not resisting anymore."
The Grandmaster's expression darkened. "Then we must prepare the failsafe."
"What failsafe?" Jiang Xuan asked.
Nobody answered.
But the air in the arena grew colder.
---
That night, Jiang Xuan sat at the edge of the mountain, robes still scorched from the backlash. He looked up at the stars, wondering how many would survive if he ever fell.
Yao Xi joined him, quiet as wind.
"I saw it," she said.
"In the vision?"
"Yes."
"What did it look like to you?"
"A graveyard."
He nodded.
"To me, it looked like… a mirror."
She hesitated.
"If it comes out again—"
"Kill me," he finished.
She didn't speak.
He smiled without humor.
"You can't, can you?"
"…No."
He turned toward her.
"I think that's why I haven't lost control yet."
A long silence passed between them.
Then Yao Xi said, "I think we both need to stop pretending this ends with survival."
----
End of Chapter 11