Xiao Yan pushed open the heavy oak doors of the 32nd Gate's central registration hall. The place smelled like old paper and expensive incense, but the vibe was anything but peaceful. Dozens of new disciples were swarming the counters, most of them wearing high-end silks and looking like they'd never seen a day of hard work in their lives.
Xiao Yan, on the other hand, looked like he'd been through a meat grinder. His clothes were singed, his face was smudged with soot, and he was leaning slightly to one side to keep his cracked ribs from grinding together.
As he walked toward the main desk, a shadow fell over him. A guard, standing nearly seven feet tall with arms like tree trunks, stepped into his path. The man wore the silver-and-blue plate of the 32nd Gate, and his eyes were full of pure, unfiltered disgust.
"A mere mortal became an inner disciple?" the guard spat, his voice echoing off the high ceiling. "What a rubbish load of luck. Did you bribe an elder, or did they just run out of real students this year?"
Xiao Yan didn't even look up. He just kept walking, his boots clicking rhythmically on the marble. "I survived the bell. That's my bribe."
The guard snorted, but he didn't stop him. The Academy rules were absolute: once you passed the trial, you were in. But that didn't mean they had to be nice about it.
Xiao Yan reached the registration counter and tapped his fingers on the wood. One. Two. Three. He was starting to pick up Haoran's habit of counting when he was annoyed.
"Hello. I'm Xiao Yan Long," he said to the young waiter behind the desk. "Inner disciple. I'm here for my credentials."
The waiter, a skinny kid who looked like he hadn't slept in a week, flipped through a massive ledger. His eyes widened when he saw the entry. "Oh... oh, I see. You're the one who survived the ninth ring. Right." He reached under the counter and pulled out a tray. "Here is your room card, your identity pass, and your basic spirit stones for the month. Have a good day, Senior Brother."
"Okay. Thank you," Xiao Yan said, snatching the card. It was made of cold, dark jade and had the number 32-Z etched into it.
Xiao Yan left the registration hall and followed the signs toward the residential district. He expected the 32nd Gate—the lowest gate—to have some crappy wooden shacks. He was wrong.
The "Man Dorms" were massive. They were carved directly into the side of a cliff, with bridges of white stone connecting towers that looked like they belonged in a palace. It was intense and luxurious. There were spirit-gathering arrays carved into every doorway, making the air feel thick and sweet with energy.
But the atmosphere wasn't friendly. As Xiao Yan walked through the halls, he saw groups of disciples sparring in the courtyards or whispering in corners. The air was thick with competition. Everyone was looking for a way to climb to the 31st Gate, and the quickest way to move up was to push someone else down.
Xiao Yan stopped at a crossroad in the hallway, looking at his jade card and then at a wall that seemed to have no numbers on it. He was tired, he was hurting, and he was officially lost.
"Hey! Can you help me find my room?" Xiao Yan yelled to a random man walking toward him.
The man stopped. He was about Xiao Yan's age, wearing a simple blue robe that looked a little worn at the edges. He had a friendly, somewhat tired face and a mess of brown hair.
"Oh, hey," the man said, blinking at Xiao Yan's battered appearance. "Who are you? You look like you got into a fight with a landslide."
"I'm Xiao Yan Long," Xiao Yan said, wiping a bit of dried blood from his cheek. "And the landslide won. You?"
"Oh, my name is Cheng Yanlin," the man answered, offering a small, lopsided smile. "I'm a second-year here at the 32nd Gate. Most people call me Yanlin. Btw, where you going?"
Xiao Yan held up his jade card. "I'm looking for 32-Z. The map on this wall is useless."
Yanlin's eyes lit up. "Oh! No way. Same room!" He laughed, slapping Xiao Yan on the shoulder. "Well, so we are roommates. Nice. I've been living in that room alone for three months since my last roommate got 'challenged' into the infirmary."
"Nice to meet you, Yanlin," Xiao Yan said, feeling a tiny bit of the tension leave his shoulders. At least he didn't have to share a room with one of those Divine Realm snobs who smelled like soap.
Yanlin led him down a long, winding corridor to a heavy bronze door at the very end of the hall. He swiped his own card, and the door hissed open.
The room was surprisingly large. Two beds, two meditation mats, and a balcony that looked out over the lower forest. But the best part was the spirit-gathering array in the center of the floor—it was glowing with a soft, blue light.
Xiao Yan didn't even look at the view. He walked straight to the empty bed and collapsed onto it, the Sword of Heaven and Earth clattering to the floor beside him.
"Whoa, easy there," Yanlin said, closing the door. "You're leaking spirit energy like a cracked bucket. What happened at the trial?"
"Nine rings," Xiao Yan muttered into the pillow.
Yanlin froze. "The ninth ring? For a Mortal Realm cultivator? Are you insane? No wonder the guards were looking at you like you were a ghost."
He walked over to a small cabinet and pulled out a jar of green salve. "Here. It's not the high-grade stuff the Ling family uses, but it'll stop the bruising. You're lucky Ling Xuelian gave you that mist earlier, or you'd be a puddle right now."
Xiao Yan sat up slowly, his eyes narrowing. "You saw that?"
"Everyone saw that," Yanlin said, sitting on his own bed. "Xuelian doesn't look at anyone. Especially not External trash. You've already got a target on your back, roommate. The Divine Realm guys in this gate are already talking about 'testing' the kid who caught the Butterfly's eye."
Xiao Yan rubbed the salve onto his ribs. It stung like hell, but the swelling started to go down. "Let them come. I've got thirty-one more gates to climb. I don't have time to worry about every guy who's jealous of a butterfly."
While Xiao Yan was settling in, Ling Xuelian was standing on the highest terrace of the Eternal Hall. The moonlight caught her translucent wings, making them shimmer like oil on water.
She was looking down at the 32nd Gate dorms.
(He's there,) she thought. (The one with the heavy soul.) She felt a strange pull in her bloodline—the Ice Dragon part of her was humming, a reaction she only had when she was near something ancient. Xiao Yan didn't look like much, but her Spirit Path was telling her that he was hiding a storm under that messy hair.
"Xuelian," a cold voice said behind her.
She turned to see a tall, handsome man in white robes. It was Ling Feng, her cousin and one of the top disciples of the 10th Gate. He looked annoyed.
"You healed a Mortal Realm peasant today," Ling Feng said, his voice full of disdain. "The elders are talking. Why waste our clan's secret mist on rubbish?"
Xuelian looked at him, her angelic eyes calm and distant. "He wasn't rubbish, cousin. He was the only one whose heart rate didn't change when the bell rang. If you want to judge him, wait until the first Gate Challenge. I think he's going to surprise you."
Ling Feng snorted. "Surprise me? He's in Gate 32. He'll be lucky if he survives the first week of 'sparring' with the Divine students. Don't let your pity cloud your judgment, Xuelian."
He walked away, but Xuelian stayed. She knew her family—they were obsessed with "clean" talent and "pure" bloodlines. They didn't understand the kind of power that came from being broken and put back together.
Xiao Yan was sitting cross-legged on his bed, his eyes closed. He could hear Yanlin snoring softly on the other side of the room.
(Michael, are we ready?)
[The 12th Stage is stable, Master. But Yanlin is right—the Divine Realm students here aren't like the ones back in Nansha. They're trained. They have better gear. And they're definitely going to try and kick your door down tomorrow.]
"Good," Xiao Yan whispered. He gripped the Sword of Heaven and Earth, feeling the cold, heavy metal under his hand. "I need the practice."
He looked at the jade identity pass on his nightstand. It felt light, but it was the heaviest thing he'd ever owned. It was his ticket to the top, and he wasn't going to let some pampered geniuses get in his way.
The climb was officially starting. And Xiao Yan Long was going to make sure the 32nd Gate remembered his name.