The moment Zhenba and the other prodigies stepped through the silver-lined portal, their breath caught. Before them stretched a vast expanse, a cathedral of steel and light, suspended platforms, and floating gardens of cultivation resources. Pools of qi-infused water, floating crystal shards humming with sword-energy, racks of ancient sabers glimmered in starlight—all radiating power that promised to accelerate their training by decades. Eyes wide, hearts pounding, the prodigies practically vibrated with greed and excitement.
"Look at this!" one gasped, lunging toward a floating cluster of sharpened spirit steel blades.
"The qi here… it's like the heavens condensed it into one place!" another exclaimed, snatching up a Sword-Core Crystal. Zhenba's fingers itched on the hilt of his twin sabers. The resonance of the Inheritance thrummed in rhythm with his heartbeat, as though the entire domain were a sword waiting for him to draw it. They scattered, zipping across the floor with lightning speed, diving for resources, testing weapons, drinking from pools, and absorbing shards.
The thrill of unlimited cultivation potential made their movements almost reckless. Then—disaster struck. One prodigy, too eager, pressed a hidden glyph in the floor while snatching a suspended relic. A metallic grinding noise echoed through the chamber, a vibration that rattled the floating platforms. From the shadows, giant mechanical golems emerged—perfectly sword-proof, their joints of unbreakable alloy gleaming in the floating starlight. Each step shook the platforms, and each arm swing carried the power to cleave steel.
"What… what are these things?!" one cried, drawing a sword that bounced harmlessly off a golem's chest.
Zhenba narrowed his eyes, stepping back to assess. The monsters didn't attack recklessly—they advanced with mechanical precision, calculating every strike. Swords, punches, even raw qi—it was useless. "We can't fight them directly," Zhenba growled. "But they can be tricked. Look at the environment—platforms, pits, traps… use your heads."
The prodigies hesitated, hearts racing, but Zhenba gestured toward the floating walkways above a series of infinite pits. "Lead them toward the hazards," he instructed, "lure them into the pits, then jump off at the last second. Keep them moving—these golems follow, but they don't think beyond what's in front of them."
A tense game began. The prodigies dashed across suspended bridges, baiting the massive mechanical forms. Each prodigy drew their attention in turn, ducking beneath swinging blades, sprinting over frozen razor platforms, and bouncing across floating crystal columns. Clang! Thud! The golems smashed the ground where the prodigies had just been, some teetering over the yawning infinite chasms. With a nudge, one fell into a pit, only to vanish into the seemingly endless void below. It was exhausting, dangerous, and exhilarating.
Every prodigy had to think one step ahead, using traps, pits, and the environment itself as weapons. The golems were perfect in offense, but predictable—they had no cunning. Zhenba's twin sabers traced arcs, cutting air to simulate attacks, forcing one massive golem over a rickety bridge. The bridge collapsed under the golem's weight, sending it plummeting into the abyss!
"Keep them moving!" Zhenba shouted. "Don't let them corner you!" One by one, using strategy over brute strength, the prodigies managed to maneuver the mechanical monstrosities into the hazards of the inheritance—falling into pits, crushing themselves against spiked floors, or getting trapped under collapsing platforms. When the last golem disappeared into the void, the silence that followed was palpable. Floating shards of light and scattered cultivation resources glimmered in the still air.
The prodigies collapsed, panting, exhilarated, their eyes wide with the thrill of both victory and near-death. Zhenba sheathed his sabers, sweat dripping, but his grin was sharp and predatory. "This is what it means to enter an inheritance… power isn't given, it's earned, and only by bending the world to your will." The scattered tokens from the defeated traps glimmered faintly, absorbing into their qi, marking their first victories inside the Blade Saint Inheritance.
Above them, the floating spires of cultivation resources beckoned, daring them to go higher, train harder, and claim their next token thresholds. A sudden roar split the plaza, echoing like the crash of a thousand armies. From the heavens descended a pillar of jade, larger, darker, and far more intimidating than any inheritance I had seen so far.
The crowd fell silent.
"The…the Foe Dog Emperor's Inheritance?" whispered one prodigy. "Fifty tokens…fifty?!"
My eyes narrowed. Fifity tokens. Half the plaza's prodigies didn't even have half that number. And yet, dozens surged forward anyway—sixty prodigies, eyes gleaming with ambition and greed, hoping to claim this supreme inheritance. Two figures immediately separated themselves from the crowd. Nara of the Snare, the Puppet Walker Clan prodigy, her spirit threads writhing like vipers around her fingers. And Yogrek Grimbark, the towering Earth Titan cultivator, muscles taut, hammer slung across his back, his aura radiating crushing force.
Both had their eyes fixed on the descending portal, but Nara's smile was sharp and cunning. "Tokens are meant to move," she murmured, whispering under her breath as spirit threads flickered invisibly through the crowd. In an instant, prodigies nearest to her felt their qi pulse strangely. One by one, tokens began sliding through the threads like liquid silver, drawn toward Nara!
"STOP, THIEF!" a young prodigy shouted, but Nara laughed, light and cruel.
With a graceful spin, she slid up the massive ladder that now formed beneath the inheritance, her threads leaving faint trails in the air. She slapped True Wave Animus Mines to the rungs and surrounding area—silent, invisible guardians ready to punish anyone who tried to follow her. Only five other prodigies who had both agility and luck—or the foresight to dodge her traps—managed to climb after her.
The rest were stopped cold by the qi mines, staggered by sudden psychic jolts, or had their tokens stolen outright. Above, the Foe Dog Emperor's Inheritance roared with restrained power, as though the emperor himself watched, weighing each would-be inheritor. The portal shimmered darkly, pulsing in time with the distant growls echoing through the plaza's air.
I, with fireflies still twitching faintly at my side, observed quietly. I didn't move. The stage was set for another deadly contest of cunning and force—and for Nara, the first step toward claiming one of the most demanding inheritances of the entire tournament.
The plaza erupted into chaos once more: shouts, curses, and flashes of qi dancing across the air as prodigies scrambled, dodged, or reeled from the invisible threads. Yet Nara, laughing softly, had already reached the threshold. "The Foe Dog Emperor awaits… and I'll be his chosen," she said, voice carrying over the tumult. The silver-lined portal pulsed in response, recognizing the few who made it through: Nara and her five chosen accomplices.
The ladder, traps, and chaos below faded behind them as they disappeared into the inheritance, leaving sixty disappointed—and token less—prodigies behind.
Above the plaza, the crowd murmured in awe and fear: "The Snare… she stole her way into the Foe Dog Emperor's inheritance!"
"And her five accomplices followed her… she's unstoppable."
"Even Yogrek… he didn't make it!"
My fireflies twitched.
Their glow pulsed faintly, as if sensing the threads of fate being manipulated below.