The inner halls of the academy were silent at night.
Lanterns carved long shadows across the jade-tiled corridors as Lin Ye followed Elder Mo without a word. Each step echoed softly, yet Lin Ye could feel invisible currents of spiritual sense sweeping over him again and again.
They were testing him.
Elder Mo finally stopped before an ancient stone door etched with formation runes dulled by time.
"Sit," he said calmly.
Lin Ye obeyed.
The door sealed behind them with a low hum, isolating the space from the outside world. The moment it closed, the pressure in the room subtly changed, as if the world itself had been peeled back by a thin layer.
Elder Mo studied Lin Ye for a long moment before speaking.
"During cultivation tonight," he said, "did you feel anything… unusual?"
Lin Ye's heart remained steady. He had already decided what to reveal—and what not to.
"I felt heat in my blood," Lin Ye replied. "And my senses sharpened afterward."
Elder Mo's eyes flickered.
"Only that?"
"Yes, Elder."
Silence stretched.
Then Elder Mo let out a slow breath. "Interesting."
He raised a hand, and a faint spiritual formation bloomed in the air between them. It pulsed once—then distorted, its light warping as it brushed past Lin Ye's body.
Elder Mo frowned.
"This formation detects bloodline attributes," he said quietly. "Yet the response is… incomplete."
Lin Ye's gaze lowered slightly.
Incomplete.
The word echoed in his mind.
Elder Mo dispersed the formation and leaned back. "You possess a rare constitution, that much is certain. But your fate signature…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "It feels as if part of it is missing."
Lin Ye's fingers twitched.
Missing—or removed?
Elder Mo's voice softened. "Tell me, Lin Ye. Before the orphanage, do you remember anything?"
Lin Ye shook his head. "Nothing."
Another long silence.
For a brief instant, Lin Ye felt something stir deep within his chest—not heat, not pain, but a cold, ancient pressure. A single thought surfaced uninvited, sharp and fleeting.
Sworn.
The sensation vanished before he could grasp it.
Elder Mo's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Hmph."
He stood up. "Whatever lies within you has not fully awakened. That is both a blessing and a danger." He turned toward the stone door. "For now, keep cultivating as usual. Do not attempt to force your bloodline."
"Yes, Elder."
As Lin Ye rose, Elder Mo added one final sentence—so quietly it almost sounded like a sigh.
"If fate truly were complete… you would not be standing here so calmly."
The stone door opened.
Lin Ye stepped back into the night, his mind unsettled.
Above the academy, the moon hung low and pale. For a brief moment, Lin Ye felt as if something beyond the sky was observing him—not with hostility, nor kindness, but with cold certainty.
He clenched his fist.
Whatever had been taken from his fate… whatever had sworn for him long ago…
He would uncover it.
And when that day came, the world would have no choice but to remember his name.