The Genius from Nowhere

"Next!"

The line moved.

Jian Wuxin stepped forward, face calm, hands behind his back. The flame crystal pulsed in the center of the stone platform, its red glow flickering like a heartbeat.

Several elders watched from a nearby terrace—gray robes, sharp eyes, expressions like carved stone.

But one pair of eyes narrowed the moment Jian Wuxin stepped forward.

A tall, gaunt man in black robes sat cross-legged atop a platform shaped like a cracked boulder. His presence was overwhelming, like the air itself refused to stir near him.

> Peak Foundation Establishment, the banner whispered from inside Jian Wuxin's mind. That one is the sect's Old Demon.

Jian Wuxin said nothing, stepping into the circle, hiding every ounce of tension under the weight of practiced indifference.

But then—

The elder's gaze snapped to the forest beyond the crowd. His pupils contracted.

> "What...?"

A faint flicker of red light danced in the tree line.

Jian Wuxin's heart skipped.

His puppets.

He had left them in the shadows to wait. Silent. Still.

But the Old Demon had noticed.

> "Fool," the Soul Devouring Banner hissed in his mind. "Return them immediately. They will be sensed."

Jian Wuxin didn't hesitate.

He flicked two fingers subtly behind his back, channeling a thread of Qi through the banner's will.

In an instant, the puppets vanished from the forest, dissolving into wisps of red smoke that flowed invisibly back into the banner itself.

Gone.

The elder stood slightly, eyes glowing.

"Something unnatural..." he muttered. But the aura had already vanished.

The trees grew still again.

> "Do not summon them again unless you wish to die," the banner growled.

Jian Wuxin stepped calmly up to the flame crystal like nothing had happened.

The overseeing elder—short and stocky—gestured toward the stone. "Place your hand on it. Pour your Qi into the core. If the heavens favor you, it will shine."

Jian Wuxin obeyed.

He pressed his palm against the smooth, hot surface.

The crystal pulsed once.

Then a soft hum filled the courtyard.

Green light bloomed beneath his palm.

Then spread.

Not one streak. Not two.

Five.

Five glowing paths, each linked to an elemental node within the crystal.

The green grew brighter. Deeper. Then took on a solid, emerald hue—pure and unwavering.

The crowd gasped.

"Five-element root?" someone muttered.

"No, look—look how deep the color is!"

The elder overseeing the test straightened, eyes narrowing.

> "Peak-grade Earth Spirit Root... with five-elemental balance..."

A second elder stepped forward. "Where did he come from?"

The Old Demon said nothing.

He only watched.

Jian Wuxin stepped back, lowering his hand.

He didn't smile. Didn't flinch. Just waited.

The first elder cleared his throat. "You... you are now officially an outer disciple of the Iron Vein Sect. Report to the outer disciple quartermaster for your jade token and robes."

Some murmurs rippled among the gathered youths.

One of the senior disciples whispered, "They didn't even make him test for inner discipleship…"

But Jian Wuxin heard it all.

He lowered his gaze and bowed. "Thank you, honored elders."

Then turned to leave—just another nameless genius who had walked out of the mist and lit the flame.

But the Old Demon, still seated high above, watched him with eyes like knives.

And somewhere, now inside the dark folds of the banner, three corpses waited patiently for their master's next command.

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