Shen Yuan broke the token at dusk.
It snapped without resistance—dry wood giving way beneath his fingers. There was no light, no pulse of energy, no dramatic response.
Only certainty.
By dawn, Azure Spine Hall had arrived.
Three spirit carriages waited at the edge of Blackwater County, their wheels never quite touching the ground. Disciples in muted blue robes stood in ordered lines, faces calm, eyes sharp. They did not look like conquerors.
They looked like accountants.
Shen Yuan joined the small group gathered for departure—six in total. None spoke. They had already learned the first lesson.
Silence was safer.
As the carriage lifted, Blackwater shrank beneath them. The mountain loomed in the distance, half-veiled by cloud, unchanged—indifferent to who left and who stayed behind to be crushed by the aftermath.
Lin Shuqing stood at the front of the carriage.
"From this moment," she said, "you are provisional entrants. Not disciples."
She glanced at Shen Yuan briefly. "Do not misunderstand the distinction."
The journey lasted half a day.
Azure Spine Hall revealed itself slowly—terraces carved into a mountain range that made Blackwater's miracle look like a crude imitation. Buildings layered atop one another, courtyards stacked like steps toward the sky.
Beneath it all—
Shen Yuan felt it.
Something old.
Not sleeping.
Buried.
They disembarked into the Lower Courtyard.
No grand gates. No welcoming ceremony.
Only rows of stone tablets etched with names.
Some were glowing.
Most were cracked.
"These record those who entered," Lin Shuqing said evenly. "Glowing names are active. Cracked ones… are not."
One of the recruits swallowed. "Dead?"
"Sometimes," she replied. "Sometimes reassigned."
Reassigned.
To what, she did not say.
They were led into a wide hall where dozens of youths already waited. Some radiated confidence. Others hid fear poorly. A few—very few—stood calmly, eyes lowered, breath controlled.
Those ones were dangerous.
An elder stepped forward.
Thin. Bald. Smiling.
"Welcome," he said, voice warm. "Azure Spine Hall nurtures talent."
His gaze swept the room.
"But talent is abundant," he continued. "Resources are not."
A flick of his hand.
Stone doors opened along the hall's sides.
Inside—
cells.
"Your first assessment," the elder said, still smiling, "is coexistence."
The doors slammed shut.
Pairs were shoved inside the cells at random.
Shen Yuan found himself pushed into a narrow stone chamber with a single other recruit—a tall youth with sharp eyes and cultivation already at late Meridian Forging.
The door sealed.
Silence.
Then the youth laughed. "Looks like I got unlucky."
Shen Yuan did not respond.
The walls began to hum.
Symbols lit up faintly.
A pressure descended—not crushing, but persistent—slowly draining spiritual energy from the room.
The youth's smile faded. "This is a consumption array."
Shen Yuan nodded. "Yes."
"You seem calm," the youth said, studying him. "What's your cultivation?"
"Low," Shen Yuan replied.
The youth's eyes flicked to him, calculating.
Shen Yuan felt the decision forming before the man spoke.
He sat down.
Cross-legged.
Relaxed his breathing.
The shard warmed faintly, feeding him a fragment—
Those who rush die first.
Those who resist exhaust themselves.
Those who yield selectively last.
Minutes passed.
The pressure increased.
The youth paced, cursed, circulated his cultivation aggressively—only accelerating the drain.
Sweat soaked his robes.
"Share your energy," he snapped. "Or I'll take it."
Shen Yuan looked up.
"I have nothing worth taking."
That was true.
And also a lie.
The youth lunged.
The array reacted instantly.
Pain flared as both were slammed back against the wall—punished for conflict.
The youth screamed.
Shen Yuan gritted his teeth and endured.
Slowly.
Patiently.
When the pressure finally lifted, the door opened.
The youth collapsed, unconscious, cultivation unstable.
Shen Yuan stepped out.
The elder watched him with renewed interest.
"Name?" the elder asked.
"Shen Yuan."
The elder nodded and made a mark beside his name.
Not glowing.
Not cracked.
Just… circled.
That night, Shen Yuan lay on a hard stone bed in the outer dormitory.
Around him, others whispered, cried, or laughed hysterically.
He stared at the ceiling.
Azure Spine Hall was not a sect.
It was a filter.
And he had passed the first mesh—not by being strong…
…but by understanding how the machine consumed those who tried to fight it.
Above the academy, unseen by all, a sealed mural pulsed once.
A tiny fracture widened.