The young enforcer re-examined Jared, the smirk on his face reced by cautious respect. "Very well, sir. Since you insist, step onto the trial tform. Three
assessments await you—a cultivation reading, an attack trial, and a defense trial. Follow me."
Jared dipped his chin and walked beside the enforcer toward the designated testing
area.
The first trial was a test of cultivation.
On the stone tformy a Spirit-Measuring Crystal. To pass the trial, one merely had to rest a hand upon its cool, translucent surface and pour in a thread of celestial energy. The crystal would answer—its shifting colors revealing both the depth and purity of that energy.
Many cultivators tried to fool such tests. Some suppressed their true cultivation level behindyered veils. Others swallowed pills that puffed up their aura for a single deceptive hour.
If the examiners judged only by the aura each candidate released, mistakes were inevitable.
Yet before the Spirit-Measuring Crystal, no trickery could stand.
So far, every contender had sparked red, then orange, then yellow-signals of Levels Five, Six, and Seven of the Heavenly Immortal Realm.
When Jared''s turn came, he ced his palm upon the crystal. Slow and steady, he guided a wisp of chaotic celestial energy into the stone.
A faint white glow answered him, indicating Heavenly Immortal Realm Level One, the lowest tier of the realm.
The young enforcer''s eyes narrowed, contempt bleeding through his polite mask.
Murmurs rose. Fingers pointed. A dozen half-smotheredughs danced across the courtyard.
The burly man whom Jared had cowed earlier bared his teeth, new malice glinting in
his gaze.
Everyone knew the crystal never lied. Jared, it seemed, was truly a Heavenly Immortal Realm Level One cultivator.
Relief shed across the brute''s face. He was no longer afraid.
That crushing aura from before-surely it had been some fancy trinket and nothing
more.
Emboldened, the brute shifted his weight, eager to stride over and teach the neer a lesson.
s, he had barely lifted a boot when the crystal pulsed again.
White turned to storm-cloud gray. From that gray, seven halos bloomed-crimson, amber, gold, jade, azure, sapphire, violet—whirling faster and faster until they wove a swirling fog the color of unshaped chaos.
"W-What is happening?" the enforcer stammered, his voice cracking.
He froze, lips parted, the registration slips trembling in his clenched fist.
In all his years overseeing entry trials, he had never seen the crystal react that way.
Around him, the crowd fell into anxious whispers that rustled like dry leaves.
The burly man''s eyes bulged. His raised foot hovered in mid-air, then lowered very, very gently.
Jared understood at once.
His chaotic celestial energy housed everything-murderous intent, the Power of Dragons, the Power of Three, and power from different fire nascences. The tangled forces confused the crystal, sending it spiraling beyond any scale it recognized.
"Perhaps there''s something wrong with the crystal," Jared said mildly. "Shall we proceed to the next trial instead?"
The young enforcer stood with the registration slip trembling between his fingers. A heartbeat of doubt flickered across his face before he cast a questioning nce toward the elder reclining a short distance away-Earthfire Pavilion''s appointed overseer for the day''s trial.
The elder''s eyelids lifted, their depths reflecting a quiet furnace. He studied Jared for
a long, pressurizing moment, then gave a slow nod. "Proceed."
The second assessment tested raw destructive power.
Three specially forged Trial Pirs rose inside the arena, each calibrated to mirror the defenses of a Heavenly Immortal Realm cultivator at Levels Five, Six, and Seven.
From ten yards away, every contender had tounch an attack, and damage to the chosen pir would reveal the true weight of their strike.
Those who had passed so far managed only deep gouges in the Level Five pir,
while a rare Level Six talent scratched its higher sibling.
The Level Seven monolith, however, remained pristine and untouchable.
Jared stepped into the marked circle, yet kept the Dragonyer Sword sheathed at his back. Instead, he pressed two fingers together, raised them like a de and aimed at the Level Six pir standing dead center.
A thread of ashen sword energy slid from his fingertip, too quiet to hiss, too leisurely to blur the air.
"That''s all? It looks so weak you could swat it away," someone muttered, the words barely louder than the rustle of robes.
Before the cynicism fully settled, the gray streak touched the Level Six pir.
No thunder roared, no metal shrieked. Only a single crisp hiss rang out, like a hot
iron sinking into snow.
Under every stunned gaze, the
pir-engineered to endure a
Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Six
cultivator''s fiercest
blow-surrendered. The sword
energy drilled straight through,
leaving a thumb-sized tunnel
polished to mirror-smooth
perfection, open from entrance to
exit.
Stranger still, the rim showed no shattered debris; it seemed a quietw of the universe had simply erased the missing matter.
Silence fell across the courtyard, so deep that one could hear a pin drop.
After a few heartbeats, sharp breaths cut the stillness one after another, each inhale an unspoken question.
"H-How is that even possible?" someone eximed, trembling between awe and fear.
"H-He created a hole through the Level Six Trial Pir?"
"What technique did he use? I couldn''t see it at all!"
"That sword energy felt a little odd. Whatever it is, it''s definitely no ordinary sword energy!"
The brawny loudmouth who had mocked Jared most loudly only moments ago now looked as if someone had drained every drop of blood from his veins.
He swallowed hard, shoulders trembling with dyed terror, suddenly aware of just how close he hade to disaster.
The young enforcer mouthed words that refused to be sound.
In all his years running these trials, the fiercest Heavenly Immortal cultivator he had
seen carved only a half-inch groove into a Level Six Trial Pir.
Piercing clean through, like what Jared had done, was unheard of.
The supervising elder''s eyes snapped open again. A de-bright glint cut across his
stare as he fixed on Jared, intent on stripping every secret from the young man''s
soul.
Jared, as if he had merely brushed dust from his sleeve, turned toward the third station.
Next came the defense test.
Three Combat Puppets waited inside the ring, each able to unleash the force of a Level Five, Level Six, or Level Seven Heavenly Immortal Realm cultivator. Candidates were required to stand motionless, endure three blows, and let their injuries dere the truth of their resilience.
Jared stepped into the marked circle, boots clicking once against the stone before falling still.
"Select your puppet grade," the enforcer said, reverence softening the edges of his voice.
"Let''s go for the Level Seven," Jared answered casually.
A fresh wave of cries broke over the spectators.
A Level Seven Combat Puppet wielded genuine, bone-shattering power. Even a Heavenly Immortal, Realm Level Seven would hesitate to swallow three hits unguarded yet Jared, whose aura barely brushed Level One, had just demanded it. Was he so utterly arrogant about himself, or did he just not care?
"Sir, a Level Seven Combat Puppet is exceedingly powerful. Perhaps you would
prefer―"
"It''s okay. Let''s begin," Jared interrupted the enforcer, gentle yet immovable.
The enforcer looked to the supervising elder. A faint nod came in reply. "Activate the Level Seven Combat Puppet. Unleash the first strike!" he announced. A crimson, three-story automaton stirred to life. Scarletmps zed in its eyes. Its right arm rose; molten light pooled around its fist, heat rolling through the arena like
the breath of a forge.
Boom!
The punch split the air, a zing projection screaming toward Jared''s face, trailed by a shock wave hot enough to sear stone.