The Threshold of Ten Thousand Years
The sedan's door closed behind them with a soft, definitive click. Yao Xuan felt Gu Yue's reluctance in the way her hand lingered in his, the slight pressure of her fingers before she released. The private intimacy of their journey had been a gift—time stolen from the demands of academy life, from the constant pressure of progress and preparation. But now the gift was spent, and the work awaited.
Gu Yue's expression shifted as they approached the Spirit Pagoda's entrance, her features settling into the composed readiness she wore for public observation. Yet her eyes, meeting Yao Xuan's, still held the warmth of their private moments—a reminder carried inward, as she'd said, to sustain her through what came next.
The pagoda's crystalline spire caught afternoon light, scattering prismatic colors across the plaza's white stone. Hundreds of steps rose before them, each worn smooth by generations of spiritualists ascending toward enlightenment or evolution. They climbed together, their synchronized footsteps creating a rhythm that needed no words.
At the staff entrance, their badges received immediate recognition. The attendant's bow was respectful, professional—but beneath it, Yao Xuan caught the particular attention reserved for those whose names had begun to circulate through the pagoda's informal networks. The young blacksmith who produced first-grade spirit alloys with sixty percent success rate. The silver-haired girl whose spiritual pressure made veteran attendants unconsciously step back.
"Senior Feng has been notified of your arrival," the attendant said. "The intermediate platform's riot period access is confirmed for both of you. Duration flexible." A pause, then with genuine warmth: "We've been tracking your soul spirit cultivation records. Today's the threshold, isn't it?"
Yao Xuan nodded. "We'll cross it together."
The elevator descent was long enough for anticipation to build, short enough to prevent it from becoming anxiety. Three minutes of smooth motion, of floor indicators flashing past, of the subtle pressure changes that marked descent into the pagoda's deeper levels.
At the intermediate platform's access chamber, they passed through two checkpoints—identity verification, spiritual resonance confirmation, the familiar protocols that protected the Ascension Platform's integrity. The final door opened onto a metal room whose walls crawled with soul guidance runes, each glowing with contained power.
Sealed pods lined the chamber, their surfaces gleaming with spirit-forged alloy, their complexity far exceeding the primary platform's equivalents. Yao Xun's Level 5 Mecha Designer knowledge allowed him to appreciate what he saw without fully understanding it—arrays layered upon arrays, redundancies within redundancies, a system designed by minds that had spent decades mastering principles he was only beginning to grasp.
"Together," Gu Yue said, not as question but as confirmation.
"Together."
They handed their badges to the attending technician, who nodded and gestured toward adjacent pods. The chambers opened with soft hisses of equalizing pressure, revealing interiors lined with the same intricate arrays as the walls.
Yao Xun settled into his pod, feeling the cushioning material conform to his body. The door closed, sealing him in dim silence. Through the pod's transparent section, he could see Gu Yue's profile in the adjacent chamber, her silver hair spread against the padding, her eyes already closed in preparation.
Then the arrays activated.
The dizziness came not as discomfort but as transition—the particular disorientation of consciousness being translated, compressed, transmitted. For a moment that might have been seconds or centuries, Yao Xun existed in suspension between worlds.
Then solidity returned.
He stood in a forest whose scale exceeded anything in the physical world. Trees rose like ancient pillars, their crowns lost in a simulated sky that held no sun yet somehow provided illumination. The air was thick with the vitality of condensed spiritual energy, rich and almost syrupy with life.
Five meters away, silver hair caught his attention. Gu Yue materialized from the last wisps of spatial distortion, her eyes opening to meet his immediately. No words passed between them—none were needed. They moved toward each other with the automatic synchronization of partners who had trained together for six months, who had fought together against Wu Changkong's full power, who had slept curled together in the quiet darkness of their shared space.
Positions established without discussion: Yao Xun forward, his ancestral dragon scales already beginning to surface across his forearms; Gu Yue slightly behind and to the left, her hands already gathering elemental threads. Above them, a bird formed of compressed wind launched into the simulated sky, its senses linked to Gu Yue's awareness.
Silence held for long moments. Then Gu Yue's head tilted slightly. "Clear. Several kilometers in all directions. No immediate threats above our threshold."
"Then we move." Yao Xun's voice was quiet, carrying only to her ears. "Two and a half days. My soul spirit needs a hundred years."
Gu Yue's slight smile held satisfaction. "Mine as well. We'll hunt together."
She gestured, and twin currents of wind element wrapped around them—not as attack, but as enhancement, lightening their steps, sharpening their perceptions. The sensation was familiar now, after months of practice: Gu Yue's elemental support had become as natural a part of combat as his own techniques.
They moved through the ancient forest with the particular silence of predators who had learned that sound was a resource to be managed, not an inevitability to be accepted. Yao Xun's dragon-enhanced senses tracked subtle disturbances in the spiritual energy around them. Gu Yue's elemental awareness mapped the flows of life force through the forest, distinguishing between the ambient presence of distant soul beasts and the concentrated signatures of immediate threats.
"How close are you?" he asked, his voice barely above a breath.
"Ninety-eight years needed. Perhaps ninety-seven after today." She paused, consulting internal metrics only she could perceive. "You?"
"Similar. We'll need sustained engagement."
"The riot period provides that." Her silver eyes swept the forest ahead. "Ten-thousand-year specimens confirmed in deeper zones. If we push steadily..."
They walked in comfortable silence, their partnership requiring no constant verbal reinforcement. The forest's simulated sounds created a backdrop of distant roars and closer rustlings—the ambient noise of a world designed to challenge those who entered it.
Then the rhythm shifted.
Gu Yue stopped mid-stride, her hand rising in the signal they'd developed for "attention required." Yao Xun halted immediately, his senses extending, searching for what she had detected.
"The ground," she said quietly. "Vibrations. Multiple sources, approaching rapidly."
He placed his palm against the forest floor, letting his blood qi-enhanced perception read what the soil carried. The tremors were faint but unmistakable—the thunder of many running feet, growing louder with each passing second.
"A stampede," he said. "Or a beast tide."
They exchanged glances. For ordinary soul masters, a beast tide in the Spirit Ascension Platform meant only one option: immediate retreat, survival prioritized over engagement. But they were not ordinary soul masters.
"Assessment first," Yao Xun decided. "If the concentration is manageable, we engage. The spiritual yield from multiple kills could advance both our soul spirits significantly."
Gu Yue nodded, already preparing. "I'll scout from elevation. Carry me up?"
The request carried no coyness—just practical acknowledgment that her elementalist specialization didn't include the physical agility to reach the high canopy quickly. Yao Xun moved to her side, bending slightly to gather her in his arms. The princess carry was efficient, familiar, their bodies finding comfortable position without thought.
"Ancestral Dragon Shattering Step."
His right foot struck the ground with precisely controlled force, launching them upward through layered branches. Three such bounds carried them to a vantage point high in the ancient tree's crown, where a thick branch provided stable footing and dense foliage offered concealment.
Below, the forest floor trembled with increasing violence. Through gaps in the leaves, they could see the first wave of soul beasts emerging from the deeper woods—a mixed herd of thousand-year specimens, their eyes wild with the particular frenzy that the riot period induced in the platform's spiritual inhabitants.
Behind them, more emerged. And more. And more.
"Assessment?" Yao Xun asked quietly.
Gu Yue's eyes tracked the flowing tide, her elemental senses mapping the concentrations of spiritual energy. "Manageable," she said finally. "The majority are thousand-year. Occasional five-thousand-year interspersed. No ten-thousand-year yet visible." She paused, then added with the particular satisfaction of a strategist confirming opportunity, "If we pick our engagements carefully, we could harvest thirty to forty without overextending."
Yao Xun studied the flowing mass below. The beast tide was substantial but not overwhelming—the kind of challenge that would destroy unprepared soul masters but provide rich reward for those capable of meeting it. His ancestral dragon soul spirit stirred within him, sensing the proximity of so much concentrated spiritual essence.
"Then let's hunt."
He gathered Gu Yue close, feeling her arms tighten around his neck in readiness. Below, the first wave of soul beasts passed beneath their tree, oblivious to the predators waiting above.
Yao Xun dropped.
His descent was controlled violence—not falling, but striking downward with Ancestral Dragon Shattering Step's momentum converted to killing force. He landed among the thousand-year herd like a meteor, the impact sending shockwaves through packed earth and packed bodies alike.
Before the nearest soul beasts could react, he released Gu Yue. She didn't fall; she flowed, her elemental control catching her in a cushion of compressed air that deposited her exactly where she needed to be—slightly elevated, clear line of sight, protected by Yao Xun's aggressive positioning.
Then the killing began.
Yao Xun's dragon claws found throats, hearts, the vulnerable points where life fled fastest. His ancestral dragon bloodline pressed against the soul beasts with the particular weight of apex predator recognizing prey, and they responded with the paralysis of instinct overwhelmed. Each kill sent spiritual energy flowing into his soul spirit, the accumulated centuries of cultivation being harvested with each fallen body.
Behind him, Gu Yue worked with surgical precision. Fire element found the eyes of beasts attempting to flank. Wind element accelerated Yao Xun's movements between targets. Earth element rose in sudden barriers that channeled the herd's panic into kill zones she had already designated. Water element became blades that severed tendons, slowed the wounded, prevented escape.
They moved through the beast tide like reapers through wheat, their coordination so seamless that an observer might have thought them one entity with two bodies. Yao Xun's aggressive engagement created opportunities; Gu Yue's precision exploitation maximized each opportunity's yield. When a five-thousand-year beast finally emerged from the chaos, drawn by the scent of so much death, they met it together—Yao Xun absorbing its charge on his armored forearms while Gu Yue's elemental fusion struck its unprotected flank.
The beast fell.
Spiritual energy flooded into Yao Xun's soul spirit, and he felt the threshold tremble—ninety-nine years remaining, then ninety-eight, then ninety-seven as the accumulated harvest of the engagement continued flowing in.
When the last of the manageable beasts had fallen or fled, they stood amid a field of spiritual residue, their breathing elevated but their readiness undiminished.
"How many?" Yao Xun asked.
"Twenty-three confirmed kills. Approximately four hundred years of accumulated spiritual energy between us." Gu Yue's smile was sharp with satisfaction. "Your soul spirit?"
He checked internally. "Ninety-seven years remaining. The threshold is... responsive. This is working."
"Then we continue." She gestured, and fresh wind elements wrapped around them, restoring energy, sharpening focus. "The riot period has only begun."