CHAPTER 12
The Trial Chamber
The path upward was silent.
Zheng Wen Te's feet moved over stone steps worn smooth by centuries of disciples.
Mist curled around the mountains like breath.
Above him, the outer sect buildings shrank into shadows.
Ahead…
the inner sect gates loomed.
Two massive stone pillars stood like guardians.
Carved dragons spiraled upward, their eyes sharp and ancient.
Zheng Wen Te's heart pounded.
This world was beautiful.
And terrifying.
The two disciples escorting him did not speak.
Their hands rested on sword hilts as if expecting him to suddenly transform into a monster.
Disciple Liu walked ahead calmly, sleeves fluttering.
He seemed amused.
As though this was entertainment.
Finally, they reached a hall.
It was not grand like a palace.
It was not humble like the outer sect.
It was something in between—
a place meant for judgment.
Above the entrance, three characters were carved deep:
Trial Chamber.
Zheng Wen Te swallowed.
The doors opened without anyone touching them.
Inside, the air was cold.
Not winter cold.
Something deeper.
A pressure.
The kind that pressed down on bones.
Candles burned along the walls, their flames unnaturally still.
At the center sat three figures.
Elders.
Their robes were darker than Elder Han's.
Their eyes were sharper.
One was a woman with hair like frost.
One was a bald man whose skin looked like stone.
The third…
was old beyond age.
His face was calm, but his gaze felt endless.
Disciple Liu bowed deeply.
"Elders. The one with golden Qi has been brought."
The frost-haired elder spoke first.
"Step forward."
Zheng Wen Te obeyed.
Each step felt like walking into a storm.
The old elder's voice was quiet.
"Place your hand out."
Zheng Wen Te hesitated.
Then slowly extended his palm.
The tiny orb rested there, shimmering faintly.
The moment the elders saw it—
all three expressions changed.
The stone-skinned elder rose halfway.
"That is not sect treasure."
The frost-haired woman's voice sharpened.
"That is not mortal."
Disciple Liu blinked, suddenly less confident.
"What… is it?"
Zheng Wen Te's throat tightened.
"I don't know."
"I was given it."
The ancient elder's gaze pierced him.
"Given?"
Zheng Wen Te whispered:
"By Shangdi."
Silence.
A candle flame flickered for the first time.
Disciple Liu's smile vanished.
The frost-haired elder's eyes widened slightly.
The stone-skinned elder's voice became dangerous.
"You dare speak the name of the Creator?"
Zheng Wen Te's hands trembled.
"I'm not lying."
"I was on another world… Earth."
"I wanted to die."
"And then the heavens opened."
His voice cracked.
"And Shangdi spoke to everyone."
The ancient elder leaned forward.
"…Earth."
That single word carried weight.
Like an old memory.
He looked at the orb again.
Then he spoke slowly, as if tasting fate.
"Golden Qi is not talent."
"It is not luck."
"It is not blessing."
Zheng Wen Te held his breath.
The elder continued.
"It is a mark."
"A sign that Heaven has interfered."
The frost-haired woman murmured:
"A prophet…"
Disciple Liu's face went pale.
"No. That's impossible."
The ancient elder's eyes returned to Zheng Wen Te.
"Tell me."
His voice was gentle now.
Almost pitying.
"Do you know what happens to those whom Heaven chooses?"
Zheng Wen Te swallowed.
He thought of his life.
His family.
His ruin.
His emptiness.
He whispered:
"…They suffer."
The elder nodded.
"Yes."
Then he raised his hand.
The air trembled.
A circle of light formed beneath Zheng Wen Te's feet.
Runes ignited.
The orb in Zheng Wen Te's palm pulsed violently.
The elders all stiffened.
The ancient elder spoke like a verdict:
"We will look into your soul."
Zheng Wen Te's breath caught.
"No—"
But it was too late.
The light surged upward—
and Zheng Wen Te felt the river of time opening inside him.
And somewhere far away…
Shangdi's sigh echoed again.