The snowstorm had finally subsided, leaving the trial grounds of Frostveil Peak sparkling under a muted sun. Frost clung to every jagged cliff and pine needle, glimmering like crystal. Tiān Lán stood at the center of the arena, calm as ever, breath steady. The blue glow in his irises had dimmed, but the mountain seemed to sense a new presence—a frozen storm contained within a single figure.
The elders in the jade pavilion whispered among themselves.
> "Lightning… a tribulation strike, perhaps?"
"Impossible. Outer disciples cannot survive heavenly lightning without talismans…"
Yet no one could deny it: Tiān Lán had absorbed the bolt as if it belonged to him.
The combat trial was about to begin. The inner disciples, elite and polished, took their positions, prepared to evaluate the outer disciples.
A tall young man stepped forward from the lineup, crimson robes swirling like molten lava. His hair was tied high with a golden clasp, eyes burning with contempt.
> "Kaì Zhěn," someone whispered.
"One of Elder Feilong's top three inner disciples…"
Kaì Zhěn cracked his knuckles, smirking.
> "What? You scared, noble boy? Let's see if your family name matters on the battlefield."
Tiān Lán's eyes narrowed just slightly. Silence. Calm. Focused.
The dueling ring activated. Snow swirled into a dome of icy mist, encasing the arena like a suspended crystal globe.
> "Begin!" an elder shouted.
Kaì Zhěn struck first. His palm ignited with orange fire, roaring like a meteor as he lunged:
> "Crimson Phoenix Palm!"
Heat vaporized snow mid-air. The ground cracked under the force. But Tiān Lán sidestepped, fluid, precise, like drifting mist.
He flicked his fingers upward:
>"Frost Step Echo."
An afterimage lingered, confusing Kaì Zhěn. His strike struck only air; the flames burst harmlessly behind Tiān Lán. The crowd gasped.
Kaì Zhěn's eyes burned. He roared, sigils forming in the air:
> "Blazing Wing Slash!"
Flaming phoenix-shaped arcs surged toward Tiān Lán from both sides.
> "He's done for!" someone shouted.
Tiān Lán's eyes flickered with a faint blue glow.
>"Skyfrost Vein Severing Art — First Pulse."
Crackling frost lightning erupted from his palm, sentient and coiling, devouring the fire arcs in midair. The cold qi hissed, freezing the residual heat, leaving only curling tendrils of steam.
Kaì Zhěn stumbled back, disbelief contorting his face.
> "You… were holding back?"
Tiān Lán said nothing. Silence only fanned Kaì Zhěn's rage.
He surged upward, wings of fire bursting from his back:
> "Phoenix Tyrant Flame: Burning Sky Lotus!"
A massive lotus of molten fire formed above the arena, petals glowing hot enough to melt stone. The elders leaned forward.
> "Near-core technique… if it lands, he's done for…"
Tiān Lán summoned the Frostheart Cauldron from his storage ring. The vessel floated above his palm, faint blue light tracing snowflake patterns across its surface.
> Wuuuuuuhhhhmmmm…
As the Burning Sky Lotus descended, Tiān Lán poured qi into the cauldron. A gale of frost erupted.
>"Skyfrost Vein Severing Art — Second Pulse: Silent Bloom."
Blue lightning coiled like frost vines into the sky, meeting the fire lotus in a cataclysm of red and blue. Steam and frost danced, snow swirling violently around the platform.
Then—BOOM.
The lotus shattered. Kaì Zhěn was blasted back, slamming into the far wall, coughing blood. Flames sputtered out. Silence. The wind whispered across the frozen arena.
> "Victory: Tiān Lán."
Gasps spread through the crowd.
> "He beat Kaì Zhěn… an outer disciple?"
"No… he's hiding something…"
Tiān Lán bowed lightly, then turned. One elder, Elder Yao, stared at the Frostheart Cauldron—not confused, but recognizing.
> "…That cauldron… belonged to Yè Tíanshuāng."
Tiān Lán froze mid-step. Only for a moment.
Kaì Zhěn, seated with a healer, glared venomously:
> "You humiliated me… I'll find out who you really are."
Tiān Lán said nothing. But deep inside, another secret stirred.
Above, near the pavilion roof, a figure watched. Silver glint on her sleeves, parasol closed.
> "Yè Tíanshuāng… so it is you," she whispered.
A faint breeze carried jasmine and rain, drifting down to the arena. Tiān Lán turned, sensing the pull of a past life—a reckoning long delayed, coming now.