He didn't yet know exactly what the substance was, but something in his instincts warned him against approaching it recklessly. Rather than press forward, he found a sheltered spot beneath an enormous tree and settled down. Rather than set out to hunt immediately, as most of his fellow competitors surely were, Mo Xuan chose to meditate first, letting his senses acclimate to the strange energy saturating the air.
Back at the arena, high in the sky, a massive crystal screen displayed live scenes from across the trial grounds. One scene after another appeared across its surface. Some disciples had already started hunting when Mo Xuan's image appeared.
He was sitting calmly in meditation instead of charging off into the forest — laughter rippled through a good portion of the audience.
"What's he doing? Is he scared?" someone jeered, and a scattering of others laughed along in agreement.
"He's meditating?"
"The examination has barely begun!"
"Does he think he has enough days to waste?"
Among the elders, though, a few exchanged more thoughtful glances, saying nothing.
High above the arena, in a position most of the crowd couldn't even see, the Sect Master himself watched the proceedings unfold. His presence alone sent a ripple of quiet shock through the elders seated nearby — the Sect Master rarely bothered attending these examinations in person. When Mo Xuan's image crossed the crystal screen, a flicker of genuine curiosity passed through the Sect Master's eyes, and he turned slightly toward the figure standing at his side.
"What a strong spiritual sense," he said quietly, almost to himself.
On the crystal surface, the image shifted again, revealing a different disciple entirely — another youth sitting cross-legged among the trees, just as still and silent as an ancient pine rooted in place.
Murmurs rippled back through the spectators. "What's going on? Another one's meditating?" "Are these brats too scared to hunt?" "Is this some kind of nap contest?"
The laughter spread for a moment longer — then faltered, and died away entirely as the crystal mirror continued cycling through scene after scene, revealing one disciple after another doing precisely the same thing: sitting motionless, cultivating, ignoring the hunt entirely. Even the elders seated around the platform began to look distinctly uneasy, murmuring among themselves.
It was only then that a few nearby caught the faint exchange between the Sect Master and the man standing beside him.
"There are quite a few good seedlings in this batch," the Sect Master said, his voice low but carrying just enough for those closest to hear.
The first day passed without incident for Mo Xuan, though the rest of the trial zone told a very different story. Roars echoed through the distant forest as other disciples began their hunts in earnest. Swords clashed against claws and scales. Bursts of Spiritual Energy flared and vanished in the distance, visible even from the crystal screens above the arena.
Some disciples had already banded together into loose groups, pooling their strength. Others rushed frantically from one location to the next, desperate to track down Spirit Beasts before their rivals beat them to it. A handful had already managed to collect multiple cores, their names climbing steadily on the display boards.
The elders watched all of it carefully, saying little.
Then, without warning, one of the crystal screens shifted to show a disciple stumbling mid-stride. He clutched at his forehead, his voice cracking with confusion. "What is happening?" His movements grew unsteady, disjointed, as though his own limbs had suddenly become unfamiliar to him. Nearby, another disciple lunged at a tree without provocation, apparently convinced something was hiding behind its trunk.
The elders exchanged uneasy glances.
"The miasma has begun spreading," one of them said quietly.
The Sect Master remained silent, his expression unreadable.
The Mind-Corroding Miasma had been deliberately woven into the examination zone. It wasn't potent enough to injure a disciple directly, but that had never been its purpose. Instead, it worked slowly, seeping into the mind rather than the body — eroding concentration, feeding impatience, and gradually distorting the senses until reality and illusion blurred together. Those who charged recklessly through the forest without noticing its influence would, sooner or later, lose the ability to tell the difference between what was real and what their own corrupted minds had conjured.
Five talismans flared red in near-simultaneous succession. Five names vanished from the crystal screens without warning.
The examination grounds erupted into murmurs. "Five already?" "They were eliminated just like that?" One of the elders shook his head slowly, clearly troubled by the speed of it.
Mo Xuan, meanwhile, remained exactly where he was beneath his chosen tree. He had noticed the miasma's presence almost immediately, its faint pressure brushing against the edges of his awareness, but rather than fight it directly, he let his Spiritual Energy circulate steadily through his meridians, keeping his mind anchored and clear. He did not attempt to resist the miasma through force — he'd learned, back in the medicinal fields, that some things could not simply be overpowered.
As the hours passed, he began to understand its true nature. It wasn't attacking his body at all. It was targeting his consciousness, probing for cracks in his focus. Quietly, methodically, he strengthened his Spiritual Sense and steadied his breathing, and little by little, the strange pressure pressing against his mind began to weaken.
By the time he opened his eyes again, night had fully settled over the forest. Somewhere in the darkness, a beast roared, and moments later, another answered it from farther away.
The second day arrived, and with it, the miasma grew noticeably stronger. More disciples were eliminated in quick succession. Some, their judgment already fraying, turned on each other over disputed hunting territory. Others wasted precious hours chasing illusions that existed only in their own increasingly unreliable minds.
The number of names still displayed on the crystal screens continued its slow, steady decline.
Mo Xuan remained exactly where he was, guarding his mind carefully as he stayed seated in meditation, patient in a way that few of his fellow competitors seemed able to match.
By the end of the second day, Mo Xuan finally opened his eyes. The strange fog that had settled over his consciousness for the past two days had begun to recede at last, and his mind felt clearer than it had in what seemed like an eternity. He rose slowly to his feet, testing the stillness in his own body — relaxed, steady, his Spiritual Energy sitting full and undisturbed within him. He turned his gaze toward the forest stretching out before him. The true examination, he understood, was only just beginning.
At dawn, Mo Xuan finally stepped away from the tree that had sheltered him for two days, and the moment he began walking, the forest around him felt entirely different. The oppressive weight that had pressed against his mind for so long had vanished completely, leaving his thoughts clear and his senses razor-sharp. For the first time since arriving in the trial zone, he could perceive it properly — every rustle of leaves, every distant presence, every subtle current of energy moving through the trees.
He walked forward, letting his senses guide him deeper into the forest. Several hundred meters later, a low growl rumbled from somewhere among the trees, and Mo Xuan stopped in his tracks. Two blood-red eyes emerged first from the shadows, followed almost immediately by another pair, then a third. Three Blood Wolves stepped out onto the path ahead of him, their postures low and predatory.
Mo Xuan's expression didn't so much as flicker. "Tier Two," he murmured, already shifting his stance.
The wolves charged as one.
Slash!
The first wolf fell before it had even closed half the distance. The second lunged in from the side, and Mo Xuan pivoted smoothly, his blade cutting cleanly across its neck. The third attempted to circle behind him, hoping to catch him off guard — but he turned to meet it without hesitation. Slash! Its body collapsed beside the others.
Mo Xuan knelt and retrieved the three cores, tucking them carefully into the storage bag the sect had issued him, then continued without breaking stride.
The next few hours passed in much the same rhythm. Mo Xuan moved steadily through the forest, but he didn't waste his strength slaughtering every beast that crossed his path — he selected his targets with deliberate care. He largely ignored Tier One beasts, not worth the effort. Tier Two beasts were worth the trouble. Tier Three beasts he considered only depending on the circumstances, weighing risk against reward each time. He was conserving his strength, keenly aware that the examination had only just begun and that ten days was a long time to spend recklessly burning through his reserves.
With that thought in mind, Mo Xuan continued deeper into the forest.
It was while cutting through a particularly dense stretch of forest that Mo Xuan first heard something out of place — a roar unlike any beast's cry he'd encountered so far, followed almost immediately by something unmistakably human. He stopped, listening. Another roar followed, and then a voice, ragged with panic.
"Get away from me!"
Mo Xuan turned toward the sound at once, and the moment he did, he recognised the aura radiating from somewhere ahead — a Tier Two Flame Boar, its presence heavy and hot even from a distance. He moved quickly through the trees, and the scene revealed itself just as he broke through the last line of brush: the boar had lowered its head, heat rolling visibly off its nostrils, while a young disciple stumbled backwards, a defence talisman glowing faintly around him.
"No..." the boy managed, his voice cracking.
The boar charged, the ground shuddering beneath its hooves with each stride, and the disciple threw his arms up on instinct, as though that alone might stop several hundred pounds of enraged Beast.
Whoosh!