Morning arrived with the sound of bells.
Low, resonant tones rolled down from the inner peaks of the Azure Cloud Sect, vibrating through stone, wood, and bone alike. Outer disciples stirred from sleep as the echoes faded, some groaning, others already alert.
Ashen opened his eyes before the final bell finished ringing.
He had not been asleep.
Cultivation the night before had been difficult. The spiritual energy in the outer compound remained thin and uneven, forcing him to refine slowly, carefully, like filtering poison from water one drop at a time. His Body Tempering realm had stabilized firmly at the first stage—no more, no less.
Perfect.
Too fast would invite attention.
Too slow would invite disposal.
He rose silently from his bed, movements controlled, breath steady. Around him, Dormitory Twelve stirred to life. Wei Lin sat up across the room, meeting Ashen's gaze briefly before looking away.
Neither spoke.
They didn't need to.
Outside, disciples gathered in loose lines, whispering among themselves. The bells meant only one thing.
An announcement.
Elder Disciple Liang Wen stood at the front of the outer courtyard, hands folded behind his back. His expression was neutral, but his presence carried an undercurrent of significance that made Ashen's instincts tighten.
This was not routine.
"You've been outer disciples for just over a month," Liang Wen began. "Long enough for the sect to evaluate your basic worth."
Some disciples straightened.
Others swallowed nervously.
"The Azure Cloud Sect does not nurture the weak without reason," Liang Wen continued calmly. "Today, you will be given an opportunity."
Opportunity.
Ashen hated that word.
"In three days," Liang Wen said, "a Minor Spirit Vein Cleansing Mission will be conducted."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Ashen's eyes narrowed slightly.
Spirit vein missions were dangerous—especially for outer disciples. They involved clearing corrupted beasts, unstable formations, or remnants of rogue cultivators from weak spiritual sites claimed by the sect.
Translation: expendable labor.
"Those selected," Liang Wen continued, "will receive contribution points, cultivation resources, and recommendation consideration."
The last words mattered most.
Inner disciple pathways.
Ashen felt it then.
Threads pulling.
"This is a culling," he thought calmly. "And a lure."
Liang Wen's gaze swept the crowd. "Your names will be posted by sunset."
The bell rang once more.
Dismissed.
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Whispers turned into sharp conversations. Groups formed and dissolved within moments. Some disciples laughed nervously, others argued, a few looked pale.
Wei Lin approached Ashen as they walked back toward the dormitories.
"You think you'll be selected?" he asked quietly.
Ashen didn't answer immediately.
Selection wasn't about strength alone. It was about usefulness—and control.
"Yes," Ashen said finally.
Wei Lin studied him. "You don't sound worried."
"I am," Ashen replied. "Just not afraid."
Wei Lin exhaled softly. "Figures."
They parted ways.
Ashen headed toward the training grounds—but stopped halfway.
Someone stood in his path.
She wore inner disciple robes.
White and pale blue, embroidered with flowing cloud patterns far more refined than the outer disciple insignia. Her posture was relaxed, almost lazy, yet the space around her felt… ordered.
Dangerously so.
Ashen recognized her immediately.
The woman from the inner peaks.
She was closer now.
"You're Ashen," she said.
It wasn't a question.
Ashen inclined his head slightly—not submissive, not arrogant. "Yes."
Her eyes were sharp, dark, and unsettlingly calm. She looked young—perhaps a few years older than him—but cultivation blurred such things.
"I am Lin Xueya," she said. "Inner disciple. Direct student of Elder Qiao."
That name carried weight.
Ashen felt it ripple outward.
"You've been observed," Lin Xueya continued, walking slowly around him. "Your movements. Your fights. Your restraint."
Ashen said nothing.
Silence made people talk.
"You hide your foundation," she said. "Why?"
Ashen met her gaze directly.
"Because shallow water reflects the sky," he replied. "Deep water hides monsters."
Lin Xueya paused.
Then smiled.
A real smile this time—small, sharp, amused.
"Good answer," she said. "You're on the mission list."
Ashen's heartbeat didn't change.
"I assumed," he said.
Lin Xueya stopped in front of him.
"Most outer disciples beg when they hear that," she said. "They fear death. You don't."
Ashen's voice was quiet. "Fear wastes energy."
She studied him for a long moment.
"Survive," Lin Xueya said finally. "If you do, I might take personal interest."
Then she turned and walked away.
Ashen watched her go.
"Careful," he thought. "That's not interest."
That was assessment.
By sunset, the list was posted.
Twelve names.
Ashen's stood near the top.
Han Ruo's did not.
The mission briefing was held that night.
A map was unrolled across a stone table, showing a forested ravine several dozen kilometers from the sect.
"A fractured spirit vein," the instructor explained. "Unstable energy. Low-grade spirit beasts. Possible remnants of a demonic cultivator who died there years ago."
Possible.
That word again.
"You will operate in teams of four," he continued. "One inner disciple supervisor will observe."
Ashen's group was assigned quickly.
Him.
Wei Lin.
A quiet girl named Mei Yan, whose cultivation felt oddly solid.
And another outer disciple Ashen didn't recognize.
Supervisor: Lin Xueya.
Interesting.
They departed at dawn.
The journey took a full day.
Ashen walked near the back, observing his teammates carefully. Mei Yan barely spoke but moved with disciplined efficiency. The fourth member—Zhou Kai—talked too much and watched everyone too closely.
Wei Lin walked beside Ashen.
"You trust her?" Wei Lin asked quietly, nodding toward Lin Xueya ahead.
"No," Ashen replied. "But I don't need to."
They reached the ravine by nightfall.
The air felt wrong immediately.
Spiritual energy pulsed unevenly, sharp and cold. The ground was cracked, blackened in places. Faint howls echoed from deeper within.
Lin Xueya raised a hand.
"We camp here," she said. "Enter at first light."
Ashen sat near the edge of the camp, eyes half-closed, senses extended.
That night, he dreamed.
Not memories.
A presence.
Blue flames.
Watching.
They entered the ravine at dawn.
The first attack came quickly.
A corrupted spirit wolf burst from the brush, eyes glowing sickly red. Ashen moved without hesitation, coordinating instinctively with Wei Lin. Mei Yan's blade flashed, clean and precise.
The beast fell.
More followed.
The fighting grew intense.
Ashen's body moved perfectly—controlled strength, no wasted motion. His cultivation remained masked, but his lethality did not.
Lin Xueya watched from above.
Carefully.
Then the ground shook.
A distorted figure rose from the ravine floor—half-shadow, half-human.
A remnant.
Demonic cultivation residue.
Zhou Kai screamed and ran.
The thing turned.
Ashen felt it.
The same cold presence from the sealed forest.
Not the same being.
But connected.
"Stay together!" Lin Xueya shouted.
Too late.
The remnant lunged.
Ashen stepped forward.
"I'll draw it," he said.
Wei Lin grabbed his arm. "Don't—"
Ashen met his gaze.
"I won't die here."
He moved.
The remnant's pressure crushed down, but Ashen endured, every refined fiber of his body screaming. The Immortal Tree's leaf burned hot against his chest.
He struck.
Not with brute force.
With will.
The remnant screamed as its form destabilized.
Lin Xueya descended like falling snow, her blade finishing it in a single arc.
Silence followed.
Ashen collapsed to one knee.
Breathing hard.
Lin Xueya stood before him, eyes sharp.
"You felt it too," she said quietly. "Didn't you?"
Ashen looked up.
"Yes."
Her expression hardened.
"This mission just became more complicated," she said.
Far away, unseen—
Something watched.
And smiled.