The last sparks of five-colored brilliance still shimmered faintly in the air when silence swallowed the testing grounds whole. The echo of that radiance lingered in everyone's eyes, like an afterimage burned into the soul.
Never, not once in living memory, had such a sight graced the Lin Clan.
"Five elements…" someone whispered hoarsely.
"No… that light, that intensity… it surpasses even a Heavenly Root!" another muttered, half in awe, half in terror.
The whispers grew, tumbling over one another like waves in a storm. Elders stared at Lin Xun as though he were a phantom descended from heaven, disciples pointed with trembling fingers, and younger children shrank back in fear.
Lin Xun stood amidst the tide of voices, motionless. His hands were still clenched, his breath unsteady. He could feel the weight of every gaze pressing into his skin. Some burned with reverence, some with suspicion, some with hatred sharp enough to cut.
He should have felt pride, yet instead, a cold heaviness stirred in his chest. So this is what it means to be chosen by heaven? To be devoured by eyes before I can even take my first step forward?
Across the ground, Lin Ming's expression twisted. His fists clenched so hard blood welled from his palms. The brilliance he had displayed moments ago—his Fire and Metal roots in perfect harmony—was now nothing but a candle beside a blazing sun.
Lin Jianhong's hand pressed down on his son's shoulder, steady but forceful. His voice, a razor-edged whisper, slid into Lin Ming's ears.
"Remember, Ming'er. A flame that burns too bright will draw the storm. Watch, wait. Even the heavens may turn their back on him."
Beside him, Lin Yueqin's lips curved faintly. Her gaze was cool, her words like flowing ice. "The higher the peak, the steeper the fall. Let him bask. His shadow will not be so easily erased."
Lin Ming's eyes flickered with venom.
Meanwhile, Lin Xun's parents cut through the sea of murmurs. Lin Zhentian, shoulders broad and voice thunderous, barked, "Enough! The results are before your eyes. What use are words to blind yourselves?"
Lin Xiuying placed a hand upon her son's shoulder, her expression soft toward him but sharp toward the crowd. "He has endured pain beyond any of you, bled when others mocked. If the heavens favor him, who among you dares question it?"
But her words did not still the voices.
"This talent is too great! Such brilliance will invite disaster—"
"You fool, can't you see? He is the blade of our clan's glory!"
"No. He is the spark of ruin!"
The elders quarreled, their faces flushed with fervor. The crowd's voices rose and fell like clashing waves.
And then—
An indescribable pressure crashed down upon the square.
It came without warning, without sound. It was not wind, nor Qi one could see, but the sheer force of a cultivator's will. The ground seemed to tremble. Breathing grew labored. Children fell to their knees. Elders stiffened, cold sweat running down their backs.
Lin Xun's chest heaved. His knees nearly buckled, yet he forced himself to stand straight, his spine burning with defiance. It was as if an invisible mountain bore down upon him, trying to crush both bone and soul.
From the edge of the square, a man walked forward with slow, steady steps.
Lin Baotian, the Clan Head.
His robes swayed in the windless air. His face was sharp, stern, unreadable. Yet the aura he exuded left no doubt—this was a man who had climbed to the peak through blood and fire. His presence silenced every voice.
Even the elders who moments before had argued with red faces now bowed their heads, unwilling to meet his gaze.
Baotian's eyes swept the crowd, cold as a winter blade, before resting upon Lin Xun. His voice rang out, clear and heavy.
"Quarreling is useless. The test has spoken. The boy's roots and bloodline are genuine. Whether this proves blessing or calamity, only time will tell."
His words rolled like thunder. The pressure lightened, though it did not vanish entirely. The crowd released a collective breath, yet tension still coiled like a drawn bowstring.
But before relief could settle, a second presence stirred.
It was not like Baotian's, sharp and crushing. This was deeper, vaster, as if the heavens themselves had bent down to gaze upon mere mortals. The air grew thick. The world stilled.
Lin Xun gasped as his soul trembled. His bones screamed, his mind rang. His body shook as if the very sky sought to pin him down. Around him, elders bent their knees, disciples collapsed outright. Even Lin Baotian stiffened under this unfathomable might.
An old man stepped into view. His steps were slow, unhurried, yet with each motion the world itself seemed to bow.
Lin Huang, the Patriarch.
His hair was silver, his beard long, his robe plain. His eyes, however, were fathomless, as though they had watched centuries drift by. He was the foundation of the Lin Clan, the only cultivator to have stepped beyond the Man Realm, the pillar that kept Lutong Town in the clan's grasp.
Even the most arrogant elder bowed to the ground, voices hushed in reverence.
Lin Xun could barely breathe beneath that gaze. It felt as if his very soul had been stripped bare, every secret laid open. His chest burned, fear clawed at him—but deeper still, a strange fire kindled. This… this is the summit of power? Then I must reach it too… even beyond.
At last, the Patriarch's voice rolled forth, calm yet carrying through every corner of the grounds.
"The ancestors have not forsaken us. In this child, their will awakens once more. Five elements, bloodline pure… this is not accident. This is destiny."
The crowd shivered. None dared refute him.
Lin Zhentian dropped to one knee, his voice strong. "Patriarch, I vow with my life, I will guard this son."
Lin Xiuying lowered her head, her tone unwavering. "Even if the heavens themselves oppose him, I will not let him fall."
The Patriarch's gaze lingered on Lin Xun, unreadable. At last, he turned to the gathered clan.
"Remember this day. It shall not be written as the awakening of a child, but as the turning of an age."
The pressure dissipated like a receding tide. Yet though their lungs filled again with air, none could shake the tremor in their hearts.
Lin Ming's eyes gleamed with venom. Jianhong and Yueqin exchanged a glance, their expressions serene, yet in their depths lay sharpened intent.
Heaven's light had descended upon Lin Xun. But in its brilliance, shadows already stirred.