The sound of my breath was the only thing that echoed in that crimson expanse. The red world pressed in from all sides, suffocating, relentless.
My knees buckled under the crushing force, and I collapsed to the ground—my sword slipping from my grasp and clattering beside me.
Struggling to endure the overwhelming pressure. I forced my head up to look at him—yet he remained standing there, unmoving, as if untouched by the weight of this domain.
Then—
A sharp crack rang out
I lowered my gaze to the frozen surface beneath me.
Fine cracks began to spread—thin at first, like spiderwebs—until they deepened, splintering wider with each passing breath. Then, with a sharp fracture, the ice gave way completely.
The pond had only been waist deep.
Yet the moment I plunged in, the world shifted.
There was no bottom.
No ground.
It was as if I had been dragged into the depths of a boundless ocean trench. Darkness stretched endlessly below, swallowing all sense of direction. My body floated helplessly, suspended in the cold embrace of the water.
My robe drifted around me, swaying like a ghostly veil in the current.
Was this an illusion… or something far worse?
I tried to move—
Slowly, I lifted my gaze toward the surface. Above, the river shimmered with an eerie red glow, its light bleeding into the water like diluted blood.
I struggled, forcing myself upward—
But no matter how I swam, no matter how desperately I pushed…
I could not reach the surface.
From the edge of my vision, something moved.
A faint disturbance in the water silent.
I stilled as I slowly turned my head.
At first, there was only darkness.
Then—
A massive form emerged.
Black scales, each one gleaming like forged obsidians, slid through the depths with dreadful grace. Its body was long—endless—coiling around me in a slow, deliberate circle. Not a serpent… but a dragon… something that stood between both, ancient and terrifying.
Its tail swayed, stirring the water into silent currents.
Then his eyes met mine.
Crimson.
They burned in the abyss, locking onto mine with a presence that felt older than time itself.
And I… could only stare back.
As if drawn by something I couldn't understand, I slowly raised my hand, reaching toward its head.
The black robe I wore, touched faintly with streaks of deep purple, swayed gently in the water, its fabric drifting like ink in the abyss
Just a little closer—
Just a little—
Before my fingers could touch its scales, dark smoke suddenly surged from the crimson crystal embedded in its head, swallowing the space between us.
It coiled upward like living shadows, thick and suffocating, wrapping around my arm before I could pull away.
Cold.
Heavy.
The smoke tightened, and the creature's crimson gaze deepened—
--
"Arsinoe." I snap back, pulling my wandering thoughts back to the present, I turned, my sleeves brushing lightly against the morning air, and found Zhen standing beside me.
"I've been calling you," he said, He extended his hand, offering a apple, its skin gleaming like polished jade beneath the pale light.
"Are you well?" I accepted it, my fingers curling around the fruit.
My gaze lifted toward the heavens, where clouds drifted like scattered immortals across an endless sky.
"I'm fine," I replied softly.
But even as the words left my lips, my mind stirred with unrest.
After the battle at the pavilion, my memories fractured like shattered glass.
I remembered the clash—the violent exchange—and then… My body plunged into the lake below, swallowed whole by its icy depths.
through the waters like a sovereign of the deep. Its eyes—ancient, unfathomable—locked onto mine. Black mist bled from its scales, drifting through the water like ink, wrapping around me, seeping into my very being—
Then, nothing.
A void that devoured all thought.
And the moment I opened my eyes; I was already within my chamber. A full day had passed.
And beyond the open window of my chamber that day, I saw the frozen lake begin to yield. The ice cracked under the warmth of the rising sun, splintering into fragments that drifted upon restless waters. Yet though it melted, the scars remained—the jagged fractures, the ruined
I hadn't seen Kaidi since then
"…Jin" Zhen's voice cut through my thoughts. I followed his gaze toward the elevated seats,
One by one, disciples began to gather
Sigil of different colors fluttered in the breeze—outer disciples in muted grays and blues, inner disciples in refined silks embroidered with the sect's crest. Their footsteps echoed faintly against the stone courtyard, yet no one spoke too loudly
Today… was the Grand Tournament.
A deep gong resounded across the mountains.
The sound was heavy—ancient. It reverberated through the chest.
Jin of Lie clan stood a few meters away from us, laughing casually with a group of disciples
Then—by chance—his gaze drifted in my direction.
Our eyes met.
In an instant, he looked away.
"He still bears a grudge," Zhen said quietly at my side.
I took a slow bite of the apple, its crisp sweetness breaking in my mouth as I leaned back against the massive stone pillar in the corner. From here, the entire courtyard stretched beneath us—disciples moving like restless currents, their robes brushing against the morning mist.
"Of course he does."
Zhen let out a low chuckle, folding his hands behind his head as though the matter amused him more than it should.
"Being beaten in front of all the disciples…" he drawled, glancing toward the crowd , "that kind of humiliation cuts deep."
At the edges of the arena, elders and instructors stood with their hands clasped behind their backs, their expressions calm and unreadable. Above them, on a raised pavilion carved from pale jade stone, the Sect Master sat in quiet authority.
Around the vast grounds, representatives from countless sects and clans had already gathered.
Last year, the Azure Sect hosted the tournament, they are known for brutal, flame-forged dominance and the terrifying glow of the Red Flaming Sigil marking their hierarchy of conquest, this year the honor belonged to the Chen Sect.
Where the Azure Sect burned with aggression and endless combat, the Chen Sect moved like flowing water beneath shifting winds.
Nestled along the mist-veiled cliffs near the Frost Summit, where rivers cascaded endlessly into ponds, deep river like and the sky seemed to blend into the earth, the Chen Sect stood as a monument to quiet strength.
The pavilions rose in layered terraces, connected by narrow bridges that swayed gently with the mountain winds. Below, waterfalls thundered into the depths, their currents feeding the sect's cultivation grounds.
The Grand Tournament was not merely a gathering of sects and clans—it was an assembly sanctioned by history itself.
At the heart of its origin is The Lord of the Seven.
It was said that he was the one who first forged attendance among the strongest powers of the world, commanding them to witness battles not as distant observers, but as participants bound by law, honor, and fate.
From his will, the foundation of the Seven-Line Age was born, the era that united the seven strongest sects and clans under a fragile balance of power.
Even now, though centuries had passed, his influence lingered like an unbroken oath.
And those present today were the inheritors of that legacy.
From the highest jade pavilion, the designated seats of the Seven Masters stood in solemn authority. Elevated above the grand platform,
The Chen Sect, governed by Headmaster Chen Shilin Yul, stood at the center of calm authority. A cultivator who mastered the dual flow of wind and water. Where others conquered through force, he ruled through control—like a current guiding every ripple without ever revealing its depth.
Across from them stood the Azure Clan, led by their young sovereign, Huo Lie Azure. A warlike genius who believed only in one truth: strength is absolute law. Beneath him, the Red Flaming Sigil marked every disciple like a burning declaration of dominance.
Farther beyond, beneath the banner bearing the sigil of the Black Abyss Sect, an empty seat remained untouched.
Once ruled by the ancient sovereign Wuying, they were a name swallowed by time— its glory buried beneath the ruins of the Great Civil War a hundred thousand years ago. Only that when the Abyss moved… something always ended.
The Iron Mountain Sect stood like an unshakable wall among the gathered forces. Their current sect master, Lord Shi, embodied the will of earth itself. To him, the world was not meant to be broken or bent—but endured. Their disciples carried bodies forged like mountains, unmoving even in the face of calamity.
On another side, the Lei Clan crackled with barely restrained energy. Led by Patriarch Lei Wanjun, they were masters of lightning Every movement they made felt like the prelude to a storm.
Not far from them, the White Crane Sect maintained perfect composure. Their Sect Master, He Lian, hailed from the distant Horizon Tribe. A swordsman of exquisite discipline, his elegance was deceptive—each graceful motion concealed a killing intent that struck like falling silk turned blade.
And among the lesser but no less dangerous factions stood the Crimson Clan, led by the ruthless warlord Han Duan. To them, honor was irrelevant. Survival and profit were the only laws worth following. They fought not for glory—but for what could be taken from it.
At the edge of the vast crowd, I finally noticed him.
Yugo.
Standing among the gathered disciples like a quiet fracture in the noise of thousands, he watched with an unreadable expression.
And like the other disciples gathered here, Zhen and I would also take part in the tournament.
The Sect Master of the Chen Sect slowly rose to his feet. His robes flowed like mist over stone, untouched by the restless energy gathering below. One step forward—and the pressure of his presence subtly shifted across the entire arena.
Every disciple clan fell quiet.
Then, his voice descended.
"Today," the Sect Master began, his gaze sweeping across the gathered thousands, "the heavens bear witness to the gathering of blades, intent, and destiny."
"This is the Grand Tournament—a tradition forged over a hundred years, where pride is tested, strength is revealed, and fate is decided not by birth… but by battle."
Below, some disciples straightened. Others clenched their fists.
"But understand this—once you step into this Celestial Jade Gate…" His eyes sharpened slightly.
All of us turned toward the massive, towering gate.
It stood like ancient, elegant, and immovable. Every inch of its surface was carved with intricate patterns
A dense aura of qi pulsed from it.
—vast… and oppressive.
"Only what you can prove with your own hands will remain." A heavier silence pressed down.
The Sect Master lifted his hand slightly, and the wind across the courtyard stilled as if obeying him.
"This is the Chen Sect's domain."
"Here, wind does not merely pass—it judges. Water does not merely flow—it reveals."
For a moment, the world felt suspended.
Then, his voice fell one final time—quiet but cutting through every heart present.
"Let the Grand Tournament… begin."
Gong rang along the area followed by the creaking sound of the huge Celestial gate opening.
The massive doors finally opened.
A surge of qi rolled outward like a living tide.
Then—thousands of disciples stepped forward at once, their robes fluttering as they crossed the threshold into the tournament grounds.
"Let get in, yeah." Without hesitation, I moved with them.
One by one, disciples vanished into the celestial gate, their figures swallowed by the light beyond. The crowd thinned rapidly until only a few remained.
Zhen and I stepped forward together.
But just before I could cross—
I stopped.
My gaze drifted to the left.
Yugo stood there.
He's staring at the gate in silence, his expression unreadable beneath the shifting light. Then, as if sensing my glance, he turned slightly. Our eyes met for a brief moment—
Without a word, he stepped through the celestial gate.
And disappeared.
Watching the place where he had vanished when something else caught my attention.
…Kaidi.
He stood a short distance away, cloaked in black, the hood casting deep shadows over his face. He wasn't looking at the gate—he was looking at me.
Then, slowly, he adjusted his hood.
And walked forward.
Vanishing into the gate.
My eyes stayed on the empty space Kaidi had left behind.
"A vast expanse of qi," Zhen said, amusement flickering in his voice as he studied the gate before us.
Only then I stepped forward.
The moment I crossed the celestial gate, the world broke.
Light twisted. Space collapsed.
And then—
Heat.
My feet landed on burning sand.
A vast desert stretched endlessly before me, waves of heat rising from golden dunes beneath a merciless sun.
The tournament had seven phases.
Each disciple was scattered into different realms, each realm holding artifacts needed to advance. Only by acquiring them could one proceed to the next phase.
I looked down at the insignia wrapped around my forearm.
The insignia we carried—the Heaven Banner token—was both protection and burden. As long as it remained in your possession, you could continue. But if it was taken…
You would be sent back outside the celestial gate instantly
I exhaled slowly, feeling the scorching air press against my skin.
"So hot…" Zhen murmured, I glance at him
Luckily, he hadn't been separated into another phase.
Once more, my gaze drifted across the desert horizon.
A searing wind swept through the dunes, tugging at our robes and carrying grains of sand.
I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the fine grains of sand that stung against exposed skin.
The heat was relentless pressing down from above and rising from below, as though the entire world had been forged inside a furnace.
The endless expanse shimmered under the sun.