The Crimson Trial Begins
"A man is not measured by his strength alone, but by what he dares to defy. Fate? Heaven? The will of others? The true warrior knows—nothing is beyond the reach of his own hands."
---
The entrance to the Crimson Trial loomed before Xian Ren like the open maw of a beast.
A cavern carved into the side of the mountain, its walls stained dark with the blood of past challengers.
Above the entrance, a single inscription was etched into the stone:
"Life is but a fleeting ember. To burn brighter, one must walk through fire."
The outer disciples gathered around, whispering in hushed voices.
"Does he really think he can survive?"
"Even senior disciples have perished inside…"
"He's already dead. He just doesn't know it yet."
Xian Ren ignored them.
His focus was on the two figures standing at the entrance.
Elder Xu.
And beside him, the Sect's Executioner—Wu Han, the Crimson Blade.
Wu Han was a living legend, his body covered in countless scars, his crimson robe dyed with the blood of a thousand enemies.
His sword, known as The Blood Crescent, had never been drawn without tasting flesh.
He stepped forward, his voice like grinding stone.
"The Crimson Trial is simple," he said. "You enter. You fight. You survive."
He raised a single finger.
"There are no rules inside."
A second finger.
"There is no mercy."
A third.
"There is no escape."
His eyes locked onto Xian Ren.
"If you hesitate, you die."
"If you show weakness, you die."
"If you turn back…"
A cold smirk.
"You will wish you had died."
Xian Ren's gaze remained steady.
No fear. No hesitation.
Wu Han's smirk deepened.
He liked that look.
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed a single jade talisman toward Xian Ren.
"This is your mark."
Xian Ren caught it without looking.
Elder Xu finally spoke.
"If you survive, you will earn the right to step beyond the outer sect."
His gaze was deep, unreadable.
"But if you fall… you will not be remembered."
The wind howled.
The disciples whispered.
Xian Ren stepped forward.
He did not look back.
---
The moment he crossed the threshold, the world shifted.
The cavern swallowed him whole, plunging him into darkness.
Then—
BANG!
The entrance behind him sealed shut.
The air grew thick, pulsing with an ancient force.
And then—
The first attack came.
SHING!
A blade shot toward his neck from the shadows.
No warning. No sound.
A killing strike.
Xian Ren's body reacted before thought.
CLANG!
The Forsaken Blade met the attack.
Sparks flew.
A figure emerged from the darkness.
A man dressed in tattered robes, eyes hollow, skin covered in scars.
A former disciple.
One who had entered the trial… and never left.
His voice was dry, cracked from years of silence.
"…Another one."
Xian Ren's grip on his sword tightened.
The man grinned.
Then, without another word, he lunged.
---
The battle was instant.
Steel clashed against steel.
The cavern echoed with the sound of blades singing their deadly song.
The former disciple fought like a beast, every movement ruthless, every strike meant to kill.
But Xian Ren…
He was faster.
Sharper.
Colder.
He deflected a killing thrust—
Pivoted—
And severed the man's throat in a single stroke.
Blood sprayed the cavern walls.
The man gurgled.
His eyes, once burning with madness, flickered—
Then dimmed.
His body collapsed.
Silence.
Xian Ren did not blink.
This was only the first step.
Without hesitation, he turned and walked deeper into the darkness.
The Crimson Trial had begun.
And he would walk through it—not as prey, but as the hunter.