Wei Chen woke before dawn, habit from three years of intensive training. The dormitory was silent except for the distant sound of someone moving in another room.
He dressed quickly, secured the knife at his belt, and left room twenty-three. The hallway was empty. Most applicants apparently valued sleep over early exploration.
Wei Chen descended to the ground floor, following the building's layout from yesterday's brief tour. The entrance hall was deserted. Even the registration desk stood empty.
He stepped into the courtyard. Morning air was cold, tinged with the smell of the city beyond the Sanctuary walls. The strange shadows of the building seemed more pronounced in the pre-dawn darkness, moving in ways that defied natural light.
"You're awake early."
Wei Chen spun. A man stood near the courtyard's edge — middle-aged, sharp features, dark robes marked with silver symbols Wei Chen didn't recognize. The presence of powerful magic radiated from him like heat from a forge.
Master-level. Possibly higher.
"Apologies," Wei Chen said, bowing slightly. "I didn't mean to intrude."
"You're not intruding. This is where applicants stay. You have access to common areas." The man stepped closer, studying Wei Chen with eyes that seemed to calculate value the way Merchant Liu evaluated merchandise. "You're the nine-year-old. Wei Chen."
"Yes, Master."
"I'm not a master. Not to you. Not yet." But his tone softened slightly. "I'm Zhao. I oversee entrance exams and new student placement. Your recommendation letter crossed my desk yesterday."
Master Zhao. The man Elder Shen had mentioned. The one who would decide Wei Chen's fate.
"Elder Shen speaks highly of your dedication and control," Zhao continued. "Seventy-eight percent sub-magic mastery at nine years old with limited resources. That's exceptional."
"Thank you, Master Zhao."
"Don't thank me. I'm not complimenting you. I'm stating facts." Zhao circled Wei Chen slowly, assessing. "Elder Shen also noted you're pragmatic, adaptive, and willing to use unorthodox methods. Those traits serve Darkness mages well. Traditional honor codes are chains that bind fools."
Wei Chen stayed quiet, unsure if response was expected.
"Tell me, Wei Chen. Why Shadow Sanctuary? You could have applied to Mixed Elements Order — easier admission, safer training, guaranteed survival. Why choose the dangerous path?"
Wei Chen thought carefully before answering. "Because I don't want to be safe. I want to be exceptional."
"Ambitious answer. Many applicants say similar things. Most don't mean it." Zhao stopped circling, standing directly in front of Wei Chen. "But some do. Some are hungry enough, desperate enough, or driven enough to actually pay the price exceptional requires."
He gestured toward the training grounds visible through an archway. "The entrance exam tests three things. Combat capability. Survival instinct. Mental resilience. Most applicants excel at one, are competent at another, and fail the third. Those who pass excel at two and are competent at the third."
"What happens to those who fail?"
"They go home. The Sanctuary doesn't kill failed applicants. We simply don't accept them." Zhao's expression was unreadable. "The mortality rate Elder Shen mentioned applies to accepted students during training. Not to applicants. Understand the difference?"
"Yes, Master Zhao."
"Good. Now, since you're awake and clearly restless, would you like to see what you're attempting to join?"
Zhao led Wei Chen through the Sanctuary grounds. The training area was larger than Wei Chen expected — multiple courtyards, indoor facilities, specialized zones for different training types.
"Shadow Sanctuary has fifty-three current students," Zhao explained as they walked. "Outer Disciples, Inner Disciples, and Core Disciples. You would enter as Outer Disciple if accepted. Most spend two to three years at that rank before advancement."
They passed through a courtyard where training dummies stood in rows. Some were standard wooden constructs. Others were more elaborate — enchanted to move, to fight back, to simulate real opponents.
"Combat training happens here. Outer Disciples practice fundamentals. Inner Disciples develop advanced techniques. Core Disciples create their own styles." Zhao gestured to scorch marks and shadow stains on the ground. "Magic leaves traces. The more powerful the mage, the longer those traces linger."
He pointed to a particularly dark stain near the center courtyard. "That's from a Core Disciple's technique demonstration three months ago. Advanced-level Darkness magic channeled through perfect control. The shadow is permanent now — it will never fade completely."
Wei Chen studied the stain, feeling the residual magic. Cold. Dense. Powerful in ways that made his own shadow manipulation feel like children's tricks.
"That's what you're aspiring to," Zhao said quietly. "Power that leaves permanent marks. Magic so refined it becomes part of the world rather than temporary manifestation."
They continued to the next area — a building separate from the dormitories, marked with wards Wei Chen could sense but not understand.
"Technique library. Restricted to accepted students. Contains shadow manipulation methods collected over three hundred years. Some are standard — most Darkness mages learn similar foundations. Others are unique, created by Sanctuary graduates and preserved here."
"Can applicants access it?"
"No. Applicants have access only to dormitories, common hall, and basic courtyard. Everything else is earned through acceptance and rank progression." Zhao's tone was matter-of-fact. "The Sanctuary doesn't give knowledge freely. You purchase access through survival and achievement."
They reached a terrace overlooking the capital. From this vantage point, Wei Chen could see the sprawl of the city — the inner walls, the merchant districts, the noble quarters, and beyond them, the masses of the outer districts where four hundred thousand people lived their lives.
"This is why Shadow Sanctuary exists," Zhao said, gesturing at the view. "In that city, Darkness mages are feared. Mistrusted. Relegated to criminal enterprises or outcast roles. Society sees darkness as evil, shadow as corruption, concealment as cowardice."
He turned to Wei Chen. "But darkness is none of those things. Darkness is practical. Efficient. Honest about what power actually requires. While Light mages preach about honor and purity, we acknowledge that sometimes necessary action contradicts pretty morals."
"So the Sanctuary teaches ruthlessness?"
"No. We teach pragmatism." Zhao's voice was sharp. "Ruthlessness implies cruelty for its own sake. We teach calculated action. The ability to do what must be done without hesitation or self-delusion. If killing is necessary, we kill efficiently. If mercy is strategic, we show mercy without weakness."
He pointed back toward the training grounds. "Many applicants misunderstand this. They think Darkness magic means becoming monsters. They embrace cruelty, believing it makes them powerful. Those applicants wash out quickly or die during training. The Sanctuary has no use for sadists."
"What does the Sanctuary want?"
"Operators. People who can complete objectives regardless of obstacles. Who can work in shadows without losing themselves to darkness. Who can be feared without being hated, dangerous without being reckless." Zhao studied Wei Chen. "Elder Shen believes you have that potential. The entrance exam will test whether he's correct."
They returned to the main courtyard as other applicants began emerging from dormitories. Morning light was spreading across the grounds, though shadows still clung to corners in defiance of the sun.
"Three days until the exam," Zhao said. "Use that time wisely. Rest. Observe other applicants. Prepare mentally. The physical and magical preparation is done — either you're ready or you're not. What remains is ensuring your mind is sharp."
"Thank you for the tour, Master Zhao."
"Don't thank me yet. I haven't decided whether to accept you." But Zhao's expression held something that might have been approval. "You're young. Younger than any applicant I've seen in five years. That's either extraordinary potential or premature ambition. We'll discover which during the exam."
He turned to leave, then paused. "One more thing, Wei Chen. Elder Shen's recommendation mentioned you're pragmatic and willing to bend rules. That's valuable. But understand — there's a difference between bending rules and breaking fundamental principles. The Sanctuary values the former. We expel or kill the latter. Learn that distinction."
Zhao left before Wei Chen could respond.
Wei Chen stood in the courtyard, processing the conversation. Master Zhao was exactly what Elder Shen had suggested — pragmatic, calculating, and deeply invested in producing competent rather than merely powerful mages.
The tour had been strategic. Showing Wei Chen what waited if he succeeded. Making the stakes clear. Testing his reactions and responses.
Wei Chen understood. This was part of the evaluation. Every interaction with Sanctuary instructors would be. They were assessing him constantly, determining if he was worth the investment of resources and time.
He needed to be careful. Competent. But not so polished that he seemed fake. Zhao had said the Sanctuary valued pragmatism — that meant authenticity mattered as much as skill.
Breakfast in the common hall was more crowded than dinner had been. All twenty-three applicants attended, plus a handful of Outer Disciples Wei Chen hadn't seen before.
The Outer Disciples wore gray robes with black trim — different from the unmarked clothes applicants wore. They sat separately, talking quietly among themselves, occasionally glancing at the applicants with expressions ranging from curiosity to disdain.
Wei Chen took a seat near Han Tao again. Strategic positioning — visible but not isolated, connected but not dependent.
"You were up early," Han Tao commented, serving himself rice and vegetables. "Saw you leave before dawn."
"Couldn't sleep."
"Nervous about the exam?"
"Cautious. There's a difference." Wei Chen ate steadily. "Met Master Zhao this morning. He gave me a tour."
Several nearby applicants turned at that. Meeting Zhao before the exam was apparently noteworthy.
Han Tao's eyebrows rose. "Really? What was that like?"
"Informative. Intimidating. He's testing constantly — every question, every response, every reaction. Everything is evaluation."
"That sounds like Zhao," one of the Outer Disciples called over. A girl maybe thirteen, with sharp features and confident posture. "He evaluated me for two weeks before my acceptance. Every conversation felt like an exam."
"Did you pass?" Han Tao asked.
"Obviously. I'm here." She gestured at her gray robes. "But barely. Zhao's standards are brutal. He accepts maybe one in three applicants. The rest go home."
Ming Yue — the advanced-level applicant — spoke from across the table. "One in three odds are better than the training mortality rate. Ten percent die during the three-year program. That's one in ten who enter, not one in ten who apply."
"Cheerful breakfast conversation," someone muttered.
"Reality isn't cheerful," Ming Yue replied flatly. "If you're not prepared for death as a possibility, you shouldn't be here."
The mood at the table shifted. Some applicants looked uncomfortable. Others — like Han Tao and Chen Ling — nodded agreement. Wei Chen stayed quiet, eating and observing.
The social dynamics were becoming clearer. Roughly half the applicants seemed genuinely prepared for what Shadow Sanctuary represented. The other half were still processing, still deciding if they'd made the right choice.
Those who hesitated wouldn't pass. Wei Chen was certain of it.
The Sanctuary didn't want students who chose this path reluctantly. It wanted people who embraced what Darkness magic required — pragmatism, efficiency, calculated action.
Wei Chen had already embraced it. Had been embracing it for three years.
The entrance exam would just make it official.
After breakfast, Wei Chen returned to room twenty-three. He wanted to practice shadow manipulation but remembered the registration clerk's warning — no magic in dormitories before the exam.
Instead, he sat on the bed and ran through mental exercises. Visualizing techniques. Reviewing combat sequences. Walking through shadow manipulation patterns in his mind without channeling actual magic.
Feng had taught him this — mental practice maintained neural pathways and muscle memory without depleting magical reserves. Not as effective as real training, but safer and less exhausting.
The wooden charm from Lian Xiu caught his eye, resting on the desk. He picked it up, turning it over in his fingers.
A reminder of home. Of people who believed in him. Of promises to return.
Wei Chen tied it back around his wrist. Three days until the exam. Three days to stay focused, rested, sharp.
He thought about Master Zhao's question. Why Shadow Sanctuary? Why choose the dangerous path?
Because I don't want to be safe. I want to be exceptional.
It was true. Not just ambitious words, but fundamental truth about who Wei Chen was. Who he'd become over three years of isolation, training, and driving himself toward something more than ordinary.
Ordinary was his hometown. Ordinary was fear and pity and invisible boundaries around his family's house. Ordinary was limitations and safe paths and comfort.
Wei Chen didn't want comfort. He wanted power. Real power that commanded respect through competence, not just fear through element.
Shadow Sanctuary could give him that. If he survived. If he proved worthy. If he passed the exam and the training and the constant testing of limits.
Big ifs. Dangerous ifs.
But Wei Chen had never chosen safe paths. Had never wanted them.
Three days until everything changed again.
He was ready.
Or as ready as anyone could be for an exam designed to break the unprepared.