The Outer Sect city stirred in the early morning with the rhythm of anticipation. Street vendors adjusted their stalls, the scent of sizzling skewers mingling with the faint tang of hot metal from the forges. Students scurried between alleys and staircases, the chatter of new recruits blending with the laughter of seniors who had already earned their place. The rooftops glimmered faintly under the rising sun, bridges spanning narrow canals casting long shadows, and the labyrinth of pathways seemed alive, shifting with the pulse of the city. Every corner, every quiet corridor, every stone staircase whispered the history of decades of martial mastery, and Lu Mao's eyes absorbed it all with sharp focus. This day was no ordinary day. The Outer Sect had declared its annual competition a test of skill, strategy, and cunning. Thirty teams of Outer Sect recruits would face trials designed to push the limits of body, mind, and Qi. The top five teams would be rewarded with cultivation pills, a main clan martial book, and a mission into the Outside World an opportunity for recognition that few ever attained.
Lu Mao felt his pulse quicken as he stepped onto the cobblestone streets alongside Chen Yuan, Bao Fu, and Yan Mei. Bao Fu groaned audibly, stretching his arms like a cat. "Thirty teams? Pills and missions? Sounds like someone's trying to tire us out before the first obstacle," he muttered, voice thick with sleep and exaggeration.
"Focus, Bao Fu," Chen Yuan said sharply, adjusting his satchel. His analytical eyes scanned the other recruits moving past, noting their stances, mannerisms, and the quiet aura of those who had already begun to gather their Qi. "Every step, every glance matters. You're not just competing against obstacles you're competing against other people who have trained their entire lives to get here."
Bao Fu waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Just saying it's early for all this intensity."
Yan Mei, silent as ever, adjusted the strap on her practice pouch. "Arrogance and underestimation are the fastest routes to defeat," she said softly, her eyes scanning the courtyard. "We will win, but only if we anticipate, adapt, and strike with precision."
Lu Mao didn't respond immediately. His gaze swept across the training grounds visible in the distance. Stakes were high, yes, but there was something else gnawing at the edges of his mind. The Wind Fist manual had opened before, had poured itself into him through the vault in his internal world. He could feel it, every strike, every rhythm etched into his bones. But the other books the Shadow Steps, Phantom Veil, Eyes of the Hawk remained as they were, inert, unable to fully merge with him. He had tried, countless times in the dormitory, trying to coax the manuals into his vault, repeating meditations, attempting precise Qi alignments, even whispering the incantations of absorption, yet nothing had happened. The vaults stayed closed.
His Wind Fist success had been allowed because his Qi, refined and focused, had reached a threshold the other techniques demanded. Shadow Steps, Phantom Veil, Eyes of the Hawk they waited for the same threshold. Frustration flared but was tempered by anticipation once he achieved the necessary cultivation, the other techniques would flow as naturally as water, and their power would reshape the battlefield.
"Lu Mao, are you even listening?" Bao Fu's voice pulled him out of the spiral of thought. He turned to see the boy grinning lazily, a cup of hot tea in hand, oblivious.
"Thinking," Lu Mao said, taking a slow sip. "About strategy. About the teams we'll face."
Chen Yuan raised an eyebrow. "Planning already? The competition hasn't even started."
"Better to anticipate than react," Lu Mao replied. "Every team has strengths and weaknesses. We need to know them before the first whistle blows."
The Outer Sect had designated a central assembly area for the teams. By the time they arrived, the courtyard was already filled with vibrant tension. Thirty groups of recruits, each in their distinct colored robes, moved with purpose, their leaders issuing last-minute instructions. Lu Mao's team merged into the chaos, but his eyes immediately sought out rival teams, searching for the energy signatures that would reveal their abilities.
Zhang Wei's team was impossible to miss. The seniors who had attacked Chen Yuan before were gathered, their expressions sharp, muscles tensed. Zhang Wei led the group with the same arrogant confidence, the jagged scar on his cheek gleaming in the morning sun. Seven members in total, each seasoned, each radiating dangerous energy. They would not hold back in this competition, and they had every reason to view Lu Mao's group as a direct threat after the courtyard incident.
Team Scarlet Fang was equally imposing. Four boys stood tall, their movements sharp, precise, and threatening, and their gaze swept the courtyard like predators sizing up prey. Lu Mao could feel the undercurrent of arrogance they were the type to rely on brute force, often coordinating attacks with uncanny synchronicity.
Across the courtyard, Team Silver Lotus moved with quiet elegance, their movements so fluid it almost seemed choreographed. Two girls and a boy, shadows flowing with their steps, eyes always scanning. They were the kind to strike unseen, slip through defenses, and vanish before anyone realized what had happened. Their approach to the competition was finesse, subtlety, and deception.
Team Iron Horn, heavyset and imposing, radiated endurance and defensive tactics. Shields, layered armors, and their collective stance screamed patience, forcing opponents to make mistakes under pressure.
Finally, Team Golden Serpent lurked near the edge, trying to appear casual but emanating a faint aura of trickery. They were known to attempt underhanded tactics, often testing the boundaries of rules for personal gain.
As the morning sun climbed higher, the Outer Sect Master of Ceremonies raised a hand, silencing the crowd. "Recruits! Today marks the beginning of the Outer Sect Trials. Thirty teams, one goal. The top five will earn not only cultivation pills, but the right to claim a main clan martial book, and a mission into the Outside World. Success is not just a test of skill it is a test of heart, mind, and spirit. Move forward with wisdom, strike with clarity, and remember: the Outer Sect watches all."
The courtyard erupted into cheers and murmurs of excitement. Lu Mao's fingers flexed, a subtle tingle of Qi sparking along his veins. He felt the energy of the city, the collective anticipation of hundreds of recruits, and the hum of power from the training grounds below.
He led Chen Yuan, Bao Fu, and Yan Mei toward their assigned practice corner. "We need to get our coordination down," he said, kneeling to mark positions with chalk. "By the time the first stage starts, every move needs to be instinctive."
Hours passed in rigorous rehearsal. Shadow Steps glided through the corners of their practice area, each step measured, each pivot rehearsed. Phantom Veil allowed Bao Fu to slip in and out of sight, creating diversions, while Chen Yuan analyzed spacing, ensuring optimal coverage. Yan Mei moved silently, integrating into every position, anticipating openings, pointing out subtle shifts in angles or timing that could create advantage. Wind Fist still burned in Lu Mao's mind, each strike precise, his Qi flowing like molten metal from dantian to fists. Eyes of the Hawk was harder to practice fully—anticipation could be simulated, but it required a live opponent. Lu Mao, Chen Yuan, and Yan Mei took turns sparring lightly, testing detection and prediction, building patterns of instinct.
Yet as the sun began to dip toward the western rooftops, Lu Mao's thoughts returned to the unabsorbed manuals. He sat cross-legged, trying again to coax Shadow Steps, Phantom Veil, and Eyes of the Hawk into his vault, whispering the absorption incantations, running Qi through each meridian, visualizing the pages dissolving into motes of light. Nothing. Vaults remained closed.
A heavy weight settled in his chest. His level of cultivation, he realized, was the key. Wind Fist had been allowed because his Qi, refined and focused, had reached a threshold the other techniques demanded. Shadow Steps, Phantom Veil, Eyes of the Hawk, they waited for the same threshold. Frustration flared but was tempered by anticipation, once he achieved the necessary cultivation, the other techniques would flow as naturally as water, and their power would reshape the battlefield.
As evening fell, the Outer Sect grounds buzzed with energy, the first trials mere hours away. Teams huddled, refining tactics, stretching muscles, and whispering strategies. Rivalries simmered, alliances tested, and tension curled through the air like smoke. Lu Mao's team settled in, quietly preparing. Yan Mei observed silently, noting the movements and postures of other recruits, subtly guiding Lu Mao, Chen Yuan, and Bao Fu through adjustments. The shadow of unabsorbed manuals weighed on him, but the spark of determination burned brighter still.
He flexed his hands, feeling the power of Wind Fist, the subtle control of Shadow Steps, and the evasive potential of Phantom Veil. His eyes lingered on the glowing horizon, imagining the paths, the opponents, the strategies. Every step, every breath, every calculation mattered. The Outer Sect Trials were about to begin, and the first move would set the tone for the battles to come.
Lu Mao's jaw tightened, a small grin forming. No matter what, he was ready, and this time, he wouldn't be caught off guard by Zhang Wei or any other team.