Crossing the boundary felt like stepping through a wall of static. The air buzzed, Althea’s ears popped, and the world on the other side was... sharper. Colors were more vivid, the air tasted of ozone and old stone, and the ambient Qi was thick enough to make her skin prickle.

The Verdant Willow sect moved in a tight formation, Elara at the front, their leader in the center. Lucian walked beside Althea, hands in his pockets, looking bored.

They weren’t the first group through. The valley inside was already a chaotic camp. Pavilions in clan colors dotted the landscape. Banners flapped in the weird, still air. The sound of a hundred different conversations, laughter, arguments, and the clang of practice blades filled the space.

"Stay close," Lucian said quietly.

"I’m not a child," Althea muttered.

"Didn’t say you were. I said stay close."

She shot him a look but didn’t argue.

They were barely twenty steps in when a group of young cultivators in sky-blue robes swaggered past. Their leader, a man with hair tied up in an elaborate topknot, glanced at the Verdant Willow group and smirked.

"Verdant Willow? Still sending observers? I thought you’d learned your lesson after last time."

Elara’s face remained placid. "Our lessons are our own, Young Master Lin."

Young Master Lin’s eyes drifted over their group, lingering on Althea. His smirk widened. "And you brought a mortal noble? How quaint. Does she need a guide? I have some junior disciples who could hold her hand."

One of his companions, a girl with sharp eyes, giggled.

Althea’s expression didn’t change. "I can hold my own blade, thank you."

The young master’s smile turned condescending. "Of course you can, little lady. This is a Trial, not a tea party. The monsters here don’t care about your title."

Lucian didn’t even look at him. He kept walking.

The young master’s gaze snapped to Lucian, irritated at being ignored. "And who’s this? Your hired scholar? He looks a bit pale for a fight."

Lucian kept walking.

Althea followed, ignoring the laughter behind them.

"Just ignore them," Elara said under her breath. "The Stormcloud Sect is all bluster. They’re minor league."

"I’ve dealt with worse," Althea said flatly.

They moved deeper into the camp. It was a hierarchy made visible. The major sects and great clans occupied the prime areas near the center, their pavilions large and ornate. Lesser groups and independents were pushed to the fringes.

The Verdant Willow sect had a decent spot, not the best, not the worst. They began setting up their own tents.

As Althea helped secure a tent peg—she refused to just stand there—she caught more looks. A group of young women in flowing silks, likely from a noble house, whispered and pointed. Not at her. At Lucian.

One of them, a girl with jade pins in her hair, broke from her group and approached with a practiced smile.

"Pardon me," she said, her voice sweet. "Are you with the Verdant Willow scholars?"

Lucian was examining a strange, moss-covered stone marker near their camp. He didn’t look up. "Yes."

"I am Lady Li Na, of the Eastern Grove Li family," she said, undeterred. "I couldn’t help but notice your... focus. Are you studying the ancient markers?"

Lucian finally glanced at her. "Something like that."

Her smile widened. "How fascinating! My father is a great collector of antiquities. Perhaps you could join us for tea later? Share your insights?"

"Busy," Lucian said, turning back to the stone.

Li Na’s smile faltered for a second, then returned, brighter. "Of course! The Trial is so demanding. But if you find time..." She let the invitation hang, then gracefully retreated to her friends, who immediately clustered around her, giggling.

Althea watched the whole exchange, an odd, prickly feeling in her chest. It wasn’t jealousy. It was annoyance. "You’re popular."

Lucian frowned at the stone. "They’re bored. Looking for distraction."

"She was pretty."

Lucian shot her a look. "So?"

Althea pressed her lips together and went back to the tent.

Later, as the artificial twilight of the Trial zone began to fall—the sky here dimmed to a perpetual dusk—a horn sounded. A deep, resonant note that silenced the camp.

A platform at the valley’s center lit up. A man in the severe black and gold robes of the Imperial Overseer stood there, his voice amplified by Qi.

"Participants of the Starlight Trial," he intoned. "The first gate opens at dawn. You will be tested on strength, insight, and will. Form your parties. No more than five. No fewer than three. Those who pass the gate may proceed to the Inner Ring. Those who fail will be ejected."

A murmur ran through the crowd. Parties began to form immediately.

The Verdant Willow sect leader approached Lucian and Althea. "You will go with Elara and two of our junior disciples. Observe. Record. Do not engage unless necessary. Your goal is the Inner Ring. Find the source of the ancient resonance."

Lucian nodded.

Althea looked at the forming groups—boisterous young masters, grim-faced mercenaries, sleek noble scions. "We stick out."

"We’re supposed to," Elara said, checking her gear. "We’re observers. We’re not here to win glory. We’re here to learn."

Dawn came quickly. The gate wasn’t a physical door. It was a shimmering curtain of light at the end of the valley, flanked by two giant stone statues worn smooth by time.

A long line had already formed. Groups were stepping through and vanishing.

As they joined the queue, Althea felt eyes on them again. The Stormcloud young master, Lin, was ahead with his party. He glanced back, saw them, and laughed.

"Observers in the combat gate? This should be good."

Elara ignored him.

When it was their turn, they stepped through together.

The world twisted.

Althea stumbled, the ground suddenly uneven. They stood in a vast, misty forest. The trees were unnaturally tall, their bark black and slick. The air was cold and silent.

"Stay alert," Elara said softly. "The first test is always a maze. Find the exit."

They moved forward. The mist clung to them, damp and cold. Sounds were muffled. They could hear other groups nearby—shouts, the clash of metal, bestial roars—but saw no one.

After an hour of careful progress, they found a clearing. In the center was a stone pedestal holding a glowing crystal.

"A puzzle?" one of the junior disciples whispered.

Before anyone could answer, the Stormcloud Sect burst into the clearing from the other side. Young Master Lin looked flushed, his robe torn. One of his party members was bleeding from a gash on his arm.

Lin’s eyes landed on the crystal, then on them. "Step aside. That’s ours."

Elara stepped forward. "The Trial is not about claiming. It’s about understanding."

Lin sneered. "Understanding is for scholars. Strength is for cultivators." He gestured, and his four party members fanned out.

Althea’s hand went to her sword. Lucian put a hand on her wrist, stopping her.

"Don’t," he said quietly.

"They’re going to attack."

"Probably."

Lin strode toward the pedestal. As he reached for the crystal, the ground beneath him shifted. Vines, thick as pythons and studded with thorns, erupted from the earth, lashing toward him.

He cursed, leaping back, his sword flashing to sever the vines. But for every one he cut, two more grew.

"Help me!" he yelled at his party.

They rushed in, but the vines were relentless. One of the junior disciples was caught around the ankle and yanked off his feet with a yell.

Elara moved, her blade a green streak, slicing through the vine holding him. She pulled him back.

"It’s a guardian," she said. "Not a puzzle. You don’t take the crystal. You prove you’re worthy of passing."

Lin, panting, glared at her. "How?"

"Look at the pedestal."

Carved into the base were the same symbols from the boundary stone. The circle. The fracture. The flame. The crooked crown.

Lin scowled. "More ancient nonsense."

Lucian walked forward, ignoring the still-thrashing vines. He stopped before the pedestal and simply placed his palm flat against the stone.

He didn’t channel Qi. He didn’t recite a mantra.

The vines went still. Then they retracted back into the earth, vanishing as if they’d never been.

The crystal’s glow intensified, then shot a beam of light through the mist, illuminating a path.

Lin stared, open-mouthed. "How did you..."

Lucian turned and started walking down the illuminated path. "Coming?"

They followed, leaving the Stormcloud Sect staring after them.

The path led them out of the forest and into a canyon of jagged red rock. The mist was gone, replaced by a dry, scorching wind.

In the distance, they could see the shimmer of the next gate.

But between them and it was a wide, rocky basin. And in that basin, two other groups were already facing off.

One was a team from a major clan, their uniforms pristine, their faces arrogant. The other was a ragged band of three independent cultivators, looking desperate.

A massive, crystalline creature, like a moving geode, stood between them and the gate. It was clearly the guardian of this stage.

The clan leader, a handsome man with cold eyes, was speaking. "...stand down. This creature is beyond your level. Withdraw and we will allow you to leave with your lives."

One of the independents, a woman with a scar across her cheek, spat on the ground. "We earned this spot same as you. We’re not backing down."

The clan leader sighed, as if greatly inconvenienced. "Very well."

He nodded to one of his companions. A young man with a cruel smile stepped forward, raised a hand, and unleashed a torrent of blue-white flame at the independents.

It wasn’t a contest. The independents were knocked back, their defenses shattered. They hit the ground, burned and bleeding.

The clan group didn’t even look at them as they turned their attention to the crystal guardian.

Elara’s face was hard. "The Jade Serpent Clan. Nasty piece of work."

Althea watched the injured independents struggle to stand. Her knuckles were white on her sword hilt.

Lucian was watching the clan.

The crystal guardian roared, a sound like grinding stones, and charged. The clan leader met it, his movements elegant and precise. His blows rang against the creature’s hide, chipping away fragments.

It was a display of superior technique and power. Within minutes, the guardian staggered and fell, dissolving into a pile of glowing dust. The path to the gate cleared.

The clan leader brushed a speck of dust from his sleeve. He glanced over at the Verdant Willow group, his gaze lingering on Althea with mild curiosity, then on Lucian with dismissive boredom.

"Observers," he said, his voice carrying. "Remember your place. This is a stage for the true talents of the realm."

He led his group toward the gate.

As they passed the injured independents, one of the clan youths, a girl, deliberately kicked the scarred woman’s dropped weapon, sending it skittering away with a laugh.

Althea took a step forward.

Lucian’s hand closed on her shoulder. "Not yet."

"They’re just going to leave them here," Althea hissed.

"I know."

Once the Jade Serpent Clan had passed through the gate and vanished, Elara hurried forward to the independents, pulling out healing salves.

The scarred woman pushed her hand away weakly. "Don’t... waste your stuff."

"Be still," Elara said firmly.

Lucian walked to the spot where the guardian had fallen. The glowing dust was already fading. He crouched, sifting it through his fingers.

"What is it?" Althea asked, joining him.

"My Father is Alive."