The elders' pavilion towered above the courtyard, carved pillars gleaming in the morning sun. Joshua stood below, head bowed, his plain robes sharp against the polished stone.
Elders sat in a row, their gazes heavy.
"Mo Xuanyu," one intoned, "yesterday you shattered all expectations. You defeated three outer disciples and even endured against an inner sect powerhouse. Your growth cannot be measured by ordinary trials."
Another elder leaned forward, voice sharp. "Thus, we summon you to face the Illusion Mountain. Few outer disciples are given this chance. Fewer still return."
Gasps rippled among the gathered disciples.
"The Illusion Mountain—!"
"That's for core disciples!"
"He'll die in there!"
Joshua's eyes did not flicker. His voice was quiet, steady. "…I accept."
Before the elders could speak further, a familiar voice rang out.
"And so do I."
Lucian stepped forward from the crowd, golden eyes gleaming, grin infuriatingly bright. His arms folded over his chest as if this were already decided.
The elders' gazes snapped toward him. "Lucian, this trial is not for you. Do not interfere."
Lucian only tilted his head, mocking. "Interfere? I'm volunteering."
Murmurs erupted.
"Senior Brother Lucian—?!"
"He's insane—!"
Joshua's head turned, eyes narrowing. "…Why."
Lucian met his gaze, and for once, his grin faltered — replaced with something sharper, more intent.
"Why?" Lucian repeated, voice carrying across the stunned courtyard.
He took a step closer, his tone suddenly clear, stripped of playfulness.
"Because I don't trust your sect." His golden eyes swept across the pavilion. "They're throwing you into a trial meant to break even inner disciples. And you're supposed to go alone?"
The elders stiffened.
Lucian turned back to Joshua, a smile curling again, but without its usual weightlessness. "…And because you, Ghost, don't know how to care if you live or die. Someone has to make sure you crawl back out."
Joshua's gaze sharpened, cold and unreadable. His lips parted faintly, but no sound came.
Lucian's grin widened, almost daring. "Besides… admit it. You'd miss me if I weren't there."
The courtyard buzzed with disbelief.
"He's serious—!"
"Senior Brother Lucian tagging along for Mo Xuanyu of all people—"
The elders exchanged sharp looks. One muttered, "Lucian, your arrogance knows no end."
Another frowned. "But his strength… may stabilise the trial. If both enter, the illusions may balance."
The oldest elder raised a hand. "…Very well. Both shall enter. The Illusion Mountain will reveal what lies within. Whether you return or not is your fate."
Lucian bowed mockingly. "See? Settled."
Joshua's eyes narrowed. "…Unnecessary."
Lucian leaned in, voice low enough for only him to hear. "Say that again when you're not bleeding in the dark."
Joshua stilled, lashes lowering. He didn't reply.
By dusk, the sect gathered before the Illusion Mountain.
It loomed in the distance — a jagged rise of black stone, mist curling endlessly around its slopes. The air was heavy, pressing, filled with whispers that weren't voices.
Disciples murmured in awe and fear. "No one goes in without leaving part of themselves behind."
Joshua stepped forward first, calm, expression unreadable.
Lucian fell into stride beside him, golden eyes gleaming with the same infuriating brightness as always. But his hand brushed the hilt of his sword lightly, not careless at all.
Joshua's voice was quiet, flat. "…You don't have to."
Lucian smirked, sharp and certain. "I already told you, Ghost. I can't ignore you."
The mist of the mountain swirled, swallowing them whole.