The Whisper in the Dark

Jian Mu's screamed in protest, his breath shallow and labored. His clothes were torn, dirt clung to his skin, and his vision swam from exhaustion. He had barely managed to fend off the last attacker, and his grip on the Golden Talisman felt weak.

The night was deep, and the cold wind bit at his skin. The trial had turned into a bloodbath—bodies littered the ground, some unconscious, others barely clinging to awareness.

Then, the instructors' voices rang through the darkness.

"Attention, all remaining participants."

Jian Mu forced himself to stand, struggling to keep his balance as he looked toward the sky. Above, several figures stood atop a high cliff, their robes billowing in the night air. The instructors.

"Dammit when will this hell end." He softly whispered to himself placing his hand on the wound of his arm.

Instructor Han's voice carried across the battlefield. "The trial will last until sunrise. Those who do not possess a Golden Talisman by then will be eliminated."

A murmur spread among the remaining students. Some sighed in relief, already securing their positions, while others gritted their teeth, knowing they were running out of time.

Then Elder Bai spoke, his voice calm yet sharp. "The elite children of the great clans have already secured their talismans and have passed. The remaining talismans are few. If you wish to pass… escape the forest alive with a talesman."

Jian Mu felt a chill—not from the cold, but from the weight of those words.

This wasn't just a test. It was a slaughterhouse.

The so-called 'main clan children'—those from powerful bloodlines—had already won. This meant that those still fighting were the weaker ones, the desperate ones. And when desperation took hold, people stopped caring about mercy.

Jian Mu's grip on his talisman tightened.

'That means I'll be hunted next.'

He said to himself in despair. He knew not only that he couldn't handle these weaker ones, how would he manage against multiple of them.

A sudden rush of Qi surged through the battlefield as groups formed, alliances breaking as fast as they were made. Eyes flickered toward Jian Mu, toward his talisman.

The remaining three talesmans and now one of those layed before their eyes.

He staggered back, barely able to react. His body was too slow. His ki was unstable—it felt like a storm inside him, roaring but untamed, wild and unrefined. He had no experience in martial arts, no training to rely on.

He was prey.

'You're to predictable and inconsistent.'

Jian Mu's body tensed.

The whisper slithered into his mind like a serpent, cold yet familiar. His breath hitched as his vision blurred for a moment, a shadow creeping at the edges of his consciousness.

'You don't even know how to use the power inside you.'

His hands shook. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to ignore it.

'Shut up!' Jian mu says in anger.

But the voice didn't stop.

'Let me show you… just a little.'

The air around him suddenly felt heavier. His Qi, once erratic, shifted—not controlled, but slightly more focused. It flowed toward his limbs, making his body feel lighter, his senses sharper.

Jian Mu's eyes widened.

'What was this?'

He didn't have time to question it. Three figures rushed toward him.

One swung a blade—Jian Mu barely dodged and swiftly recovered and swung his blade into the attacker stomach killing him, moving with more fluidity than before. Another aimed a punch, but his body reacted faster, stepping back just enough to avoid a direct hit, he then swiftly cut the second attackers arm.

It wasn't skill. It was instinct.

'See? You are not helpless.'

Jian Mu's heart pounded. The voice—was it guiding him? No, it wasn't controlling him. It was showing him something.

A third attacker lunged. This time, Jian Mu didn't dodge—he stepped in. His footwork felt unnatural, yet precise. His palm shot forward, catching the attacker off guard as he redirected the momentum.

The boy slammed into the ground.

Jian Mu gasped. He had never fought like this before. It wasn't power—it was understanding.

The voice chuckled.

'You can learn. You can survive. But only if you listen.'

Jian Mu hesitated. The whisper didn't feel malevolent—not yet. It wasn't forcing him to do anything. It was simply… offering.

He clenched his fists. Was this truly his strength, or was it something else?

A sharp pain bloomed in his chest as a stray strike caught him off guard, sending him stumbling. His moment of hesitation had cost him.

'You hesitate too much.'

Jian Mu gritted his teeth. He had no time for doubt.

Another attacker rushed at him. This time, Jian Mu moved. His body still ached, his techniques were still sloppy, but his mind was clearer. His steps felt lighter, his reactions slightly faster.

Recovering quick he kicked the attacker in the guts sending him flying towards the rest of them.

He wasn't strong yet. But he could adapt.

The trial wasn't over. The real challenge had just begun. It was time for survival.

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End of Chapter 7