The crisp morning air bit sharply at the edge of the White Cliff, a colossal, towering precipice of chalk-white stone that overlooked the vast expanse of Moon Cliff City. Thousands of people had gathered at its base and along the reinforced viewing platforms—commoners, mercenaries, and visiting nobles alike stood shoulder to shoulder, their excited chatter creating a low, rumbling hum that echoed against the sheer rock face.
At the very front of the staging area stood an elderly priest, his long, snow-white robes catching the mountain breeze. Despite his fragile appearance, his voice was amplified by a subtle wave of mana, carrying clearly over the massive crowd.
"Welcome, young talents of Magonia, to the Moon Cliff Festival competition," the old priest announced, his gaze sweeping over the hundreds of young participants. "Before you attempt the climb, you must understand the history of the ground beneath your feet. Centuries ago, during the Great Calamity, a celestial fragment tore through the heavens and struck this mountain range. It split the earth, creating this very White Cliff, and left behind a condensed reservoir of pure lunar essence at its summit—the Moon Lake."
The crowd fell silent, hanging on the old man's words.
"The trial today is simple yet brutal," the priest continued, pointing a withered hand toward the peak shrouded in mist. "You must scale the White Cliff using only your physical might and your personal mana cultivation. The final top ten participants who successfully breach the summit and set foot on the peak will earn the right to enter the Moon Lake, where you may absorb its essence to cleanse your meridians and claim the grand rewards offered by the city lordship and the royal family."
A murmur of excitement rippled through the young contenders, but the priest raised his hand to command silence once more.
"However, hear the conditions of entry," the old man warned sternly. "First, this trial is strictly limited to the younger generation; no participant may be over the age of twenty-five, and none below the age of ten, unless accompanied by a verified bloodline exception. Second, the use of external arrays, lethal poisons, or high-grade artifacts is strictly prohibited. Any attempt to fly using external magical treasures will trigger the cliff's natural gravity formation, dragging you down instantly. You must climb with your own strength."
Hearing the age limits, Leon—who stood comfortably hidden beneath his plain white traveling cloak and silver mask—let out a quiet breath. Thanks to the meticulous arrangements of the Darkmoon family and his Aunt Fray's overwhelming authority, his registration as a special participant had gone completely unnoticed by the public eye.
"Let the competition begin!" the priest roared, striking his wooden staff against the stone ground.
BOOM!
A massive signal flare erupted into the sky, and the sea of participants surged forward instantly. The heirs of the small and medium noble houses, eager to show off their martial prowess, burst into the front ranks. Elemental spells flared to life as earth mages reinforced their grip on the rock, while wind mages lightened their bodies to leap gracefully up the lower ridges.
Leon, however, did not rush. Utilizing his impeccable discipline, he deliberately suppressed his mana aura, letting himself be swept into the middle of the roaring crowd. He seamlessly blended into the dense pack of average rogue cultivators and minor martial artists, keeping a perfectly steady pace. To anyone watching, he was just another cloaked child trying his luck, completely hidden from notice by the sheer volume of bodies moving up the cliffside.
Down in the city squares and across the main viewing decks, the spectators erupted into massive cheers. Floating high in the sky above the staging grounds was an enormous, glowing magical mirror—a high-grade projection artifact that displayed the entire competition in real-time. The mirror flickered, tracking the explosive movements of the front-runners, including the dazzling displays of the 3rd Prince and 4th Princess, providing endless entertainment for the roaring crowd below.
From the shadows of a nearby vantage point, Lady Karen watched the giant magical mirror with a neutral, completely calm expression. While the crowd gasped and cheered for the flashy noble heirs sprinting at the front, her eyes quietly traced the middle crowd on the screen, feeling a deep sense of quiet admiration for the young master's flawless composure as he effortlessly navigated the chaotic ascent without drawing a single eye.