The ascent to the second floor of the Great Tower was silent.
After the Preparation Test concluded, the participants were guided upward through a wide spiral corridor carved directly into the Tower's inner wall. The stone beneath their feet was smooth, worn down by countless generations of cultivators who had climbed with hope, desperation, or ambition weighing on their backs.
The second floor was not an arena.
It was a place of waiting.
Dormitories lined the circular hall, each door marked with a faint inscription bearing the participant's name. At the center stood a broad cafeteria, simple but well-stocked, its tables already occupied by cultivators whispering among themselves.
This was where anticipation fermented.
This was where fear settled in.
The guards of the Great Tower moved efficiently, their expressions rigid. Once everyone had arrived, one of them stepped forward, unfurling a jade slip that hovered in the air, glowing softly.
"The First Round matchups," the guard announced, voice echoing across the hall.
The jade slip shifted, names carving themselves into light.
Pin Sujin vs Zhao Lin.
A ripple of murmurs spread. Zhao Lin was a capable Zhao disciple—but against the Rock Palm, few believed the outcome would be anything but brutal.
Zhao Yuan vs Zhao Jun.
A laugh escaped someone's lips before being quickly stifled. Zhao Jun, though talented, was nowhere near Zhao Yuan's level. This pairing felt less like a match and more like a public execution.
Lin Xue vs Zhao Chan.
Lin Xue's eyes narrowed.
Zhao Chan. She remembered the name—solid foundation, decent control, nothing exceptional. But the implication was obvious.
They were testing her.
Zhao Ming vs Zhao Jin.
This time, the whispers sharpened.
Zhao Jin was not weak. Among the Zhao Sect's younger generation, he was known for his aggressive style and unwavering loyalty. Sending him against Zhao Ming was no coincidence.
Four fights.
Four Zhao disciples.
Lin Xue exhaled slowly.
So that's how they want to play this.
The guards exchanged faintly irritated looks. The dominance of a single sect was not forbidden, but it disrupted the balance the Great Tower was meant to preserve. Still, rules were rules.
Once the announcements ended, the participants dispersed.
Lin Xue walked calmly toward her assigned dormitory. The room was simple—stone walls, a wooden bed, a low table, and a small window overlooking the inner shaft of the Tower. Quiet. Isolated.
Perfect.
She had just placed her hand on the door when footsteps echoed behind her.
Measured.
Unhurried.
She did not turn immediately.
"Lin Xue."
The voice was smooth, confident, steeped in certainty.
She turned.
Zhao Yuan stood there, hands clasped behind his back, posture relaxed as if this corridor belonged to him. Up close, his presence was suffocating—his qi sharp and overbearing, pressing against her like an invisible hand.
"You should feel honored," Zhao Yuan continued. "I rarely initiate conversations."
Lin Xue's expression remained cold. "If you have something to say, say it."
Zhao Yuan smiled faintly.
"I will be direct. Marry me."
The words landed without ceremony.
Lin Xue stared at him, disbelief flashing across her eyes—quickly replaced by disgust.
Zhao Yuan went on, unbothered.
"Your talent is real. Rare. With proper guidance, you could reach heights worth acknowledging. Become my wife, and I will ensure your safety. I will withdraw the Zhao Sect's pressure against you. You will leave this Tower intact."
He leaned slightly closer.
"And our offspring," he added calmly, "will surpass even me."
For a brief moment, the corridor was silent.
Then Lin Xue laughed.
It was short. Sharp. Full of contempt.
"You mistake me for livestock," she said coldly.
Zhao Yuan's smile did not fade.
"I mistake you for opportunity."
Her eyes burned.
"I would rather die in this Tower than live as something you own."
Zhao Yuan studied her for a long moment, as if reassessing a tool that refused to function as intended.
Interesting, he thought.
"Very well," he said at last. "Refusal is your right."
He stepped back, his tone still calm.
"But understand this—your death will not be swift."
Lin Xue's fingers curled.
"I will enjoy watching you struggle," Zhao Yuan continued, voice low. "Not in the arena—that would be too quick. But after. When the Zhao Sect closes its net."
He turned away, already dismissing her.
"Sleep well," he said. "Tomorrow, you fight."
As he walked down the corridor, Lin Xue stood motionless.
Her heart was steady.
Her breathing controlled.
But beneath her calm, embers stirred.
So that's how it is, she thought.
She opened the dormitory door and stepped inside, closing it softly behind her.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Lin Xue lowered her gaze to her hands.
No killing allowed.
Unconscious meant defeat.
She smiled faintly.
Then I'll make them remember me, she thought.
I'll burn myself into this Tower.
Tomorrow, the Great Tower would witness its first clash.
And Lin Xue had no intention of holding back.