Dawn never truly arrived.
The sun rose somewhere beyond the clouds, but its light fractured as it touched the mountain, scattering into pale, lifeless hues that failed to warm the earth. The slope loomed closer now—vast, silent, and watching.
Shen Yuan walked at the rear of the group.
There were eleven of them in total.
Three outer disciples of the Iron Current Sect.
Five independent cultivators recruited overnight.
Two hired mercenaries.
And Zhou Kai.
The genius walked at the front, spine straight, aura flaring deliberately. His presence pushed against the others like an invisible blade, reminding them of their place.
No one spoke.
The closer they drew, the heavier the air became. Shen Yuan felt it first—not because he was strong, but because he had learned to listen to fear.
The ground beneath their feet was not soil.
It was stone, fused and smoothed as if melted once and cooled by something far colder than fire.
"Stop."
Zhou Kai raised a hand.
The group froze.
Ahead, the mountain's base revealed its first secret.
A massive stone archway jutted from the slope, half-buried, its surface carved with figures so eroded they barely resembled living beings. The carvings twisted unnaturally—limbs bent at impossible angles, faces locked in expressions of terror rather than reverence.
Murals.
No.
A warning.
One of the mercenaries swallowed. "Senior Zhou… this doesn't look like a minor ruin."
Zhou Kai's eyes gleamed. "Which is exactly why it matters."
He stepped forward.
The moment his foot crossed the invisible boundary beneath the arch, the air shifted.
Not violently.
Subtly.
Shen Yuan felt it like a breath against his ear.
Then—
Thud.
One of the independent cultivators collapsed.
No scream. No struggle.
His body simply fell forward, face striking stone with a hollow sound.
Dead.
Silence detonated through the group.
"What happened?" someone shouted.
No one answered.
The corpse lay motionless, eyes wide open, skin already paling.
Zhou Kai's expression tightened. He crouched and placed two fingers on the man's neck, then withdrew them slowly.
"His heart stopped."
A chill crept through Shen Yuan's spine.
No attack.
No visible array.
No fluctuation of spiritual energy.
The shard beneath his clothes trembled faintly, as if mocking their ignorance.
"An execution zone," one of the Iron Current disciples muttered. "But why only him?"
Zhou Kai stood, gaze sharp. "Because he lied."
The others stared at him.
"He said he was at Core Condensation," Zhou Kai continued calmly. "He wasn't even at Spirit Sea."
Fear spread instantly.
In cultivation, lying about one's realm was common. It deterred bullies. Bought breathing room.
But here—
"This ruin doesn't care about reputation," Zhou Kai said. "It judges what you are, not what you claim."
Shen Yuan lowered his head further.
He had not lied.
But he had not told the full truth either.
"Everyone," Zhou Kai commanded, "state your true cultivation."
One by one, they did.
No embellishment. No pride.
When it reached Shen Yuan, he spoke softly. "Second stage of Body Tempering."
One of the mercenaries laughed nervously. "You're kidding."
Zhou Kai studied him.
For a moment, Shen Yuan thought he might be killed simply for being useless.
Then Zhou Kai nodded. "Honest."
They crossed the threshold.
Nothing happened.
Shen Yuan exhaled slowly.
The mountain had accepted him—for now.
Inside the archway, the world narrowed.
Sound dulled. Wind vanished. Even footsteps seemed swallowed before they could echo. The passage sloped downward, walls etched with half-erased murals.
Shen Yuan glanced at them as he walked.
He wished he hadn't.
The figures were not fighting monsters.
They were fighting each other.
Humans tearing at humans. Beasts crushing cultivators. Trees impaling fleeing figures with roots thicker than spears.
And above them all—
Shapes that did not belong to any race he recognized.
Tall. Segmented. Stone-like bodies marked with geometric patterns.
Aliens.
His heart thudded.
The shard pulsed once, sharply.
Not a warning.
A confirmation.
They reached an open chamber.
At its center stood a broken altar, surrounded by shattered weapons and bones fused into the floor as if grown there.
"Spread out," Zhou Kai ordered. "Search for inscriptions."
No one wanted to be first.
But hesitation was worse.
The mercenaries moved.
The moment the leftmost man stepped onto the darker stone near the altar—
Crack.
The floor collapsed.
He screamed as he fell, but the sound cut off abruptly, replaced by a wet crunch that echoed once… then nothing.
Blood seeped upward through the cracks.
No body returned.
Panic erupted.
"Arrays!"
"This place is layered!"
"We're going to die!"
Zhou Kai roared, releasing his aura. "Silence!"
Pressure slammed down, forcing the weaker cultivators to their knees—including Shen Yuan.
Pain flared in his chest.
He did not resist.
He endured.
Zhou Kai breathed hard, then pointed. "You. Body Tempering."
Shen Yuan raised his head.
"Go test the right side."
Shen Yuan's fingers dug into the stone.
So this was it.
Not heroic sacrifice.
Utility.
He bowed. "Understood."
As he stepped forward, the shard burned cold against his ribs.
Images flashed.
A path where the stone darkened slightly—but did not collapse.
A mural fragment—barely visible—etched into the floor.
A corpse not yet formed.
Shen Yuan adjusted his steps by a finger's width.
He walked.
Nothing happened.
He reached the right side and stopped.
Alive.
The others stared.
Zhou Kai's eyes narrowed.
"Again," he said.
Shen Yuan moved another step.
Still alive.
Murmurs rippled through the group.
Zhou Kai approached slowly, studying the ground. His expression shifted—calculation replacing arrogance.
"So," he said quietly, "you're not just honest."
He smiled.
"You're useful."
Shen Yuan did not return the smile.
Because he knew something Zhou Kai did not.
The shard was silent now.
Which meant—
The mountain had finished testing him.
And was beginning to test the genius instead.
From deep within the ruin, something stirred.
Not an array.
Not a beast.
A presence.
Ancient. Curious.
And very awake.