The sun rose like a blade over the horizon. Light cracked across the sky in golden ribbons, casting long shadows over the clouds as the Star bite continued her endless drift westward. Below us… everything was changing. Gone were the forests of fang-trees and bone-cragged mountains. The wild chaos of the Beast Vein Continent gave way to something far more ancient. More intentional. Below, a massive circular plateau stretched for miles in every direction. Rings of tiered stone platforms, ancient monoliths, and shimmering clan banners jutted skyward like the bones of old gods.
Rivers of qi—actual visible streams of spiritual force—cut across the land like glowing veins. We had arrived. The Meeting Ground of the Thousand Clans. The true prodigy gathering. I stood at the prow, arms folded, feathers rippling in the wind. The wind was dry here. Heavy with ancestral weight.
Behind me, the crew murmured in awe. Even Marla was silent, her serpent hair unusually still. Hammerhead let out a low whistle. Faeluxe knelt, touching her forehead briefly in reverence. Felicity appeared beside me in a shimmer of silver tendrils, brows raised as she looked at the ground below.
"It's beautiful," she said. "And old. This place remembers every drop of blood ever spilled on it." She was right. The land below us wasn't just sacred ground. It was a wound that never closed. My thoughts drifted to the dawn training session. The vorpal switch still crackled in my body like distant thunder.
I had done it. Pulled off a high-tier technique that only a handful of cultivators could comprehend, let alone execute.
I flexed my fingers. That move alone could turn a battle. Could make an enemy down themselves with their own projectile technique. if used properly it had the power to unseat cultivators far beyond me.
But I also knew I couldn't reveal the vorpal-switch early.
Not in any of the early matches, unless absolutely forced. The tournament wasn't just a show of strength—it was a stage of spies. Eyes from every clan would be watching.
And not all of them were friendly. I whispered to myself, "Keep your cards close, Ash. Let them underestimate you." From the helm, one of the Star bite's pilots called out, "Approaching Clan Summit Airspace! All ships ordered to descend to spirit docks!" Other clans had begun appearing around us.
Perigee-hawks carrying warriors. Even living beasts the size of small buildings, with temples chained to their backs. Others soared toward the plateau like migrating titans. The air buzzed with incredible power. Some of the strongest warriors on the continent were already arriving. Some would be allies. Others… would be blood in the sand.
I glanced over my shoulder, scanning my crew. Hammerhead. Marla. Faeluxe. Felicity was at ease in my bloodstream. Each ready in their own way. And behind us, the Iron Fang Elders, standing tall in their ceremonial armor, their clan medallions glowing faintly in the rising sun. I wasn't here to spectate. I was here to compete.
To claim an Inheritance. To etch my clans name into the stone of history. I inhaled deeply. "Let's land." The Star bite began its descent, rune crystal engines humming. Below us, the sacred ground of the Thousand Clans awaited—still, but not silent. It hummed with expectation. And we were about to answer it.
The Star bite descended like a silver comet
Whispers broke out across the ground even before we touched down.
"Whose clan commands that?"
The massive hover-landing platforms, known as the Spirit Docks, were sectioned into clan wards—each flying its own banners, colors, and emblems.
The Iron Fang's dock was on the eastern edge of the ring, and as our ship lowered onto it, all heads turned.
Some onlookers were impressed—others, less so.
Across the dock, a group of cultivators in crimson-gray robes sneered. "Pompous bastards," one muttered, clearly from the psychic fire eye clan, a rival house known for disdainful pride and tightly wound martial traditions.
But not all eyes judged.
In the circle of rising murmurs, the Iron Fang Elders stepped forward, their presence silencing the crowd around us.
Elder Vash, clad in obsidian battle robes, his eyes sharp as a glaive's edge, adjusted the golden Fang Crest pinned to his chest. Elder Jinn, broad-shouldered and wise-eyed, leaned on his war staff—said to be carved from the root of a World Tree.
Elder Mei, the fox-eyed tactician whose fans could slice wind itself, gave a graceful wave, her smile predatory.
And Elder Umo, the oldest and most revered, his voice like thunder dragged through gravel, stepped to the front.
He spoke with the full gravity of a mountain's shadow. "Let it be known," he said, voice rolling across the docks, "The Iron Fang Clan arrives to claim its place in this meeting. With our fangs sharpened. With our spirit unbroken."
Heads bowed.
Rivals narrowed their eyes.
Prodigies shifted in their stances. As the Elders led the way, we followed them into the central gathering grounds. The clan gathering arena was massive, tiered and ancient.
Circular terraces formed the inner rings of the tournament grounds—each section designated for a particular clan. It was a living forum, a spiritual amphitheater filled with whispers, memories, and unsaid declarations of supremacy.
Elder Vash murmured, "This is where the first hundred met. Not in peace.
But In blood." Elder Mei snorted softly, "And we return now, not in blood but with fireworks and merry making." Each Elder broke off to greet allies, rivals, old friends, and older enemies. And then the air shifted. A wall of frost swept across the inner terrace, absorbing the ambient heat at the gathering. It got cold and heads turned. From the center, flanked by dignified retainers, strode a woman clad in robes of woven ice worm silk.
This was Vanessa the Matriarch of the Frozen Heart Clan. Her hair flowed like falling snow, her steps untroubled by the summer heat of the continent. Beside her walked Elyahna—a figure of almost painful beauty. Long white hair braided with silver icicles. Pale blue robes. Her aura pulsed with Mystic Ice Path Essence, so cold it fractured the stones beneath her boots. You could feel her cultivation from across the circle.
Even Felicity chimed into my thoughts with her estimation of the girl. "Someone's been eating cold stars," she muttered. The Matriarch lifted a hand and addressed the clans gathered nearby. "Let it be known—the Frozen Heart presents its chosen blade for the Trials.
This is Elyahna, Daughter of Winter, Heir of the Still Sky, Disciple of the Seventh Ice Lotus. May her presence cool your arrogance,and chill your assumptions."
The surrounding clans nodded in respectful approval.
And then—
"Ashriel."
Elder Mei's voice cut through the crowd like a whip. I blinked. She grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my crimson ember coil scales. "You're not skulking in the background" she whispered under her breath. "Time to introduce our warboy." She dragged me forward—right into the Prodigy Circle. Suddenly, I was standing before Elyahna, and half a dozen others who pulsed with dangerous power.
The Prodigies of the thousand clans first wave. Elyahna, of the Mystic Ice Path from the Frozen Heart Clan, graceful, silent, dangerous. Her stare could freeze rivers. She wielded azure qi with terrifying control. Next was Dimitri, Prodigy of the Psychic Fire Eye Clan. They were a clan of cultivators who dealt in Psychic flame attacks. They used self-core burn techniques with mind flames that could eat vitality. Silent and furious. Known for brutal victories.
Zhenba stepped forward.
He was known as the Lightening Duelist of the Thousand Cuts Clan. He wielded twin wind sabers and was never serious. His smile hid a kill-count in the hundreds.
Nara of the Snare was next; she was the prodigy of the Puppet Walker Clan. She could Use spirit-thread to control beasts and people alike. She was Haughty and Enjoyed psychological warfare. There was Yogrek Grimbark, an Earth Titan Cultivator of the Golden Boulder Clan He was built like a mountain and Moved like a falling one. He wielded a hammer that once broke a Leviathan's jaw.
Finaly there was Vaylan Duskspire who walked the Umbral Light Path of enlightenment. He was the prodigy representing his Families clan The Dusk Spires.
An enigma. A Master of light and shadow manipulation. His aura was subtly and hard to pinpoint.
And now, Elder Mei's voice: "And this, honored peers, is Ashriel ember coil. Son of Kullnam. Sovereign-Slayer. He who turned the Red Cap to Stone."
That got a reaction. Even Elyahna looked at me then—cold, but curious. Dimitri tensed, His qi flared faintly in challenge. Zhenba just grinned. "Oh. This year's going to be fun." I gave a respectful nod. Just enough to be polite. Not enough to bow. Because I wasn't just here to participate. I was here to conquer.
The prodigies were herded like celestial cattle toward the southern courtyard, beneath a towering obsidian arch inscribed with ancient clan glyphs. The ground pulsed with invisible qi currents, and overhead, jade bells chimed in the morning. At the heart of the space stood a towering hundred-foot totem, carved of shimmering meteoric stone, each ring of its body adorned with beastly faces—dragons, phoenixes, titans, leviathans, even extinct horrors.
Each face bore gemstone eyes and fang-socketed mouths, arranged in spiraling rows. Just then a grand Elder from the Floating Lotus Palace arrived to officiate the ceremony.
There were one thousand participants on the first day of the gathering, but only 500 initial spots available for the Continents top prodigies. Instead of dueling it out which would takes weeks if not months of time, the great totem acted as a time saver by grading a potential candidates future potential.
The totem wasn't a power gauge. It measured a cultivator's future potential, by grading their spirit body. More specifically: Spirit Body Type and Grade.
A disciple from the Jade Seal Clan explained in a calm, ritual voice, "Place your palm against the conduits.
And release your Intent and Qi into the Totem. It will determine your Spirit Body type— its quality, and hence it's future potential" He gestured toward the ranking structure engraved into a nearby stone.
It depicted the Spirit Body Grades
Earth Grade
Lightening Grade
Wood Grade
Water Grade
Fire Grade
Blood Grade
Darkness Grade
Holy Grade
Divine Grade
"And your results," he continued, "will determine your initial placement in the tournament brackets." A long line stretched before the Totem. Each prodigy stepped up, pressed their palm into the socket at its base, and poured their intent upward. A girl from the Blooming Thorn Clan pressed her palms, and the Totem shimmered violet, revealing a wood grade Spirit Body. Next a tall boy stepped forward letting his intent flow into the totem conduits revealing that he had no spirit grade body at all,and was ejected from the gathering.
Dimitri of the Psychic Fire Eye Clan stepped forward. The totem flared with ruby light, and the beast face that revealed itself bore a mind-flame crown. Spirit Body – Fire Grade. Muted applause followed.
Elyahna of the Frozen Heart stepped forward in silence. Her palm touched the conduit.
A roar of icy winds cascaded from the Totem as it flared silver-blue. Aurora Frost Spirit Body – Holy Grade
"Remarkable!" whispered Elder Mei, "And chilling to see." Zhenba stepped forward with a cocky grin. The Totem shimmered gold and jade– Earth Grade
I stood near the back, arms folded. The line grew shorter. Prodigy after prodigy stepped forward, revealing a spectrum of beasts and grades. Water, Earth, Blood… even a rare Darkness Grade appeared when Vaylan Dusk Spire touched the stone. But none had triggered the top tier.
No one had yet earned the Divine Grade.
Elder Mei leaned near me, whispering under her breath: "Whatever you're going to do, don't hold back. Let them know you didn't come here to participate—you came to ascend."
I nodded slightly, stepping forward as silence rippled through the watching crowd. Each step I took echoed across the totem circle, drawing the gaze of Elders, prodigies, and bystanders alike. I placed my hands on the conduit. Exhaled. And focused a few thin whisps of intent and qi into the totem. At first—nothing. Then—light exploded upward. Not gold. Not flame. Not frost. A shimmering pillar of radiant threads surged from the Totem, lighting up every beast face in sequence.
The air turned heavy with pressure, and for a heartbeat, every qi-sensitive being in a mile radius felt their lungs constrict. The Totem screamed with soundless resonance.
Spirit Body – Divine Grade
Silence. Then murmurs. Then chaos. "He's Divine Grade?!" someone barked.
"I thought only Heaven-favored disciples could awaken a Divine Grade! What clan is he from again?!"
Even the jade-robed officiator stumbled. "D-Divine Grade confirmed. Uh… tournament seeding... automatic high bracket placement..."
Zhenba whistled from the back. "Well well, Red Cap wasn't just a fluke." Dimitri narrowed his eyes. Elyahna tilted her head slightly—calculating. Felicity whispered inside my blood, "They see it now. The storm's not on the horizon—it's standing in front of them." Elder Mei was smiling like a woman who had just bet everything on a blade—and won. I stepped back from the Totem, my hand still faintly glowing.
Eyes followed my every move now. This wasn't just tournament fodder. This was a sovereign-tier challenger—declared before the first fight had even begun.