Path of No Return
"A man who gazes at the stars must first step over the corpses beneath his feet. The higher one climbs, the colder the winds become. And at the peak—only silence remains."
---
The Iron Vein Sect's night sky was not like other places.
The moon was an iron coin, cold and merciless.
The stars were like shards of broken swords, glinting with the light of those who had perished before reaching them.
And beneath that sky, Xian Ren sat alone.
The courtyard was empty now.
Ba Jin had been carried away by the outer sect disciples, his wounds deep but not fatal. The whispers of the battle still lingered in the air.
He was no longer just an unknown.
He was something more.
Something dangerous.
But danger alone was not enough.
Power demanded proof.
And proof required more than one victory.
His fingers brushed against the ancient scroll at his waist.
The knowledge within pulsed, as if eager to consume him whole.
It had no name.
No master.
Only one truth.
To walk the Path of No Return, one must sever the chains of weakness.
Xian Ren exhaled.
He had already taken the first step.
There was no turning back now.
---
The sect elders did not waste time.
By the next morning, Xian Ren was summoned.
He stepped into the Grand Hall, his expression unreadable.
The elders sat upon their thrones of molten stone, their eyes cold, their robes woven from the blackened silk of abyssal spiders.
At the center, seated upon a throne carved from the bones of defeated enemies, was Elder Xu.
His presence alone was like a blade against the throat.
His gaze was like the weight of a thousand corpses pressing down on the soul.
He studied Xian Ren for a long moment before speaking.
"You defeated Ba Jin."
A statement, not a question.
Xian Ren did not bow.
"Yes."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber.
Some elders showed interest.
Others, disdain.
Elder Xu remained impassive.
"You used an unknown technique," he continued. "One we do not teach."
Silence.
The weight of their scrutiny did not waver.
And yet, Xian Ren's expression remained unchanged.
He did not deny it.
But he did not explain it either.
Elder Xu's fingers tapped against his throne.
Then, he smiled.
It was not a pleasant expression.
"Good."
The murmurs stopped.
Some elders stiffened.
But none objected.
In the Iron Vein Sect, power spoke louder than bloodline.
Louder than tradition.
Louder than rules.
And Xian Ren had proven his strength.
But strength was not enough.
Not yet.
"Tomorrow," Elder Xu said, "you will enter the Crimson Trial."
The chamber fell silent.
Even the elders shifted slightly.
The Crimson Trial was not for ordinary disciples.
It was not for those who merely sought advancement.
It was for those who sought death.
And only those who walked through it unscathed would earn the right to wield true power.
Xian Ren's eyes did not waver.
He bowed his head.
"As you command."
---
The night before the trial, Xian Ren stood upon the edge of the mountain.
The wind howled, whispering the names of those who had fallen before him.
Few had survived the Crimson Trial.
Even fewer had emerged unchanged.
He traced his fingers over the Forsaken Blade.
The weapon hummed, as if sensing his thoughts.
There was no fear in his heart.
Only a quiet certainty.
He would not die here.
Not yet.
He had not come this far to be buried beneath the ambitions of lesser men.
And so, as the first rays of dawn pierced the horizon, Xian Ren turned away from the edge.
Tomorrow, the heavens would witness something they had never seen before.
Not the rise of a hero.
Not the birth of a legend.
But the first step of a man who would tear them from their throne.