The courtyard buzzed with unease as the last echoes of the Trial of Endurance faded. The array dimmed, its runes flickering once before vanishing into the earth. What remained were students sprawled across the stones, their robes damp with sweat, their gazes vacant. Others stood stiffly, faces pale as they stared at nothing, their minds still caught in whatever torment the formation had shown them.
The Heavenly Dragon Sect attendant who had presided over the array lowered his staff and let his eyes sweep over the group. He said nothing, only nodded once before stepping aside. His silence carried more weight than a lecture could; those who had endured knew that nothing needed to be said.
Li Wei steadied his breath, rolling his shoulders as if to shake off the phantom weight that still lingered in his chest. The memory of fire and blood clung to him like smoke, but his qi pulsed steadily, clear and full. He was not broken.
Mei leaned lightly against him, her eyes still rimmed red though she forced a grin. "That was worse than fighting five Mentors at once," she whispered.
Li Wei gave her a small nod, though his jaw was tight. "Because you can't strike back against it."
Her grin faltered, and she looked away.
Across the courtyard, Wang Zhao stood rigid among the gathered students, his fists clenched so tight that blood dripped from where his nails had cut into his palms. He scanned the crowd until his gaze landed on Li Wei. For an instant their eyes locked, and Wang Zhao's scowl deepened. He said nothing, but the hatred simmering in his glare was sharper than any words.
Not far behind him, Lian Yi emerged, his normally composed face pale. He placed a hand on Wang Zhao's shoulder, whispering something that made the taller boy stiffen, then nod curtly. Together, they retreated to a corner of the courtyard, drawing in heavy breaths.
From the opposite side came Yao Lin. Her steps were measured, her back straight, though her face was drained of color. She carried herself with the poise of someone who refused to show weakness, even as her robes clung to her from sweat. At her side, Meng Li stumbled out, trembling. Yao Lin caught her before she fell, steadying her without breaking stride.
When her eyes met Li Wei's, there was no anger, no mocking. Only a sharp, calculating look, as though she were studying him. She gave the faintest nod, an acknowledgment rather than a challenge, before turning away.
The courtyard quieted as the Heavenly Dragon Sect elder finally rose from his seat. His long robes shimmered faintly beneath the sun, the golden dragon insignia embroidered across his chest catching the light. His gaze swept over the gathered students, pausing here and there as if reading the measure of each heart.
"You have taken the second step." His voice was calm, even, yet it carried to every corner of the courtyard. "The trial of endurance does not test what you can cut down, but what you can carry. To rise in the path of cultivation is to endure not only wounds of the body, but wounds of the heart. Those who cannot endure will shatter long before their qi is exhausted."
The students bowed their heads, the weight of his words sinking in.
"You have one night to rest," the elder continued, "and then the third trial shall begin. Whether you stand or fall will be decided then."
With a wave of his sleeve, he dismissed them.
The students broke into clusters, whispering among themselves. Some left quickly, eager for solitude. Others gathered in tense groups, comparing their experiences in hushed tones, though no two stories were alike.
Li Wei and Mei walked together toward the compound assigned to their academy. The path was lined with flickering lanterns, their glow soft against the encroaching dusk. For a time, they said nothing. The silence between them was not heavy, but thoughtful, as if each was still sorting through what they had endured.
Finally, Mei exhaled sharply. "Do you think it's always going to be like this? Trial after trial until we break?"
Li Wei shook his head. "If it were easy, the Heavenly Dragon Sect wouldn't be what it is."
Her lips twisted into a wry smile. "True. Still, I'd prefer something where I can actually swing a blade."
He almost smiled in return. Almost.
The compound came alive as students from other academies also returned. Small courtyards filled with low conversation, some tense, some lighthearted. The scent of medicinal herbs drifted from one corner where disciples tended to those who had collapsed during the trial.
Li Wei sat with Mei and several of their peers beneath the eaves of their assigned hall. Someone had brought food, though few touched it. The taste of rice and vegetables felt dull after the weight of the day.
Wang Zhao passed by with his group, his steps heavy, his jaw set. The courtyard quieted briefly at his presence. He didn't speak, but as he walked past Li Wei, his shoulder brushed against his deliberately, hard enough to jolt him. Li Wei didn't react, keeping his gaze forward. Mei bristled, starting to rise, but Li Wei touched her arm and shook his head.
Later, after most had retired to their rooms, Li Wei found himself restless. The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of blossoms from the capital's gardens. He stood beneath a pine tree in the compound's outer courtyard, staring up at the stars.
The endurance trial had not broken him. If anything, it had sharpened something inside, burned away hesitation. Yet the images it had shown him lingered, pressing at the back of his thoughts. He clenched his fists. His parents' faces, his village in flames—it would not always be shadows and whispers. One day, he would uncover the truth.
From the corner of his eye, he caught movement. Yao Lin stood at the far side of the courtyard, her spear resting against her shoulder, her posture relaxed. She had been watching him, though when their eyes met, she looked away, pretending interest in the night sky.
Neither spoke. The silence between them was not hostile, but wary, like the meeting of two swords yet to clash.
At last she turned and left, her footsteps soft against the stones.
Li Wei exhaled slowly and returned to his room. Mei was already asleep, curled against her blanket, her breathing steady. He sat cross-legged on the floor, closing his eyes. Qi flowed smoothly through his meridians, steady and strong. Whatever the trial had pressed upon him, it had not left cracks—it had tempered him instead.
And tomorrow, the third trial awaited.