Hollow Honor
By morning, the quiet of Fang Xi's return had faded into whispers. Something unseen had shifted in the sect.
Those who watched closely—Elder Hua, the robed guest, even Wei Lian—felt it.
And for once… Fang Xi didn't deny it.
He had changed.
📜 Trial of the Sword Steps
Three bells rang through the Ironwood mountain.
"The final stage of the Summit Challenge," Elder Qian's voice echoed, "begins at noon."
Fang Xi stood beneath the wind-swept pine near the west court, watching birds spiral over the cliff. He did not move when Wei Lian approached.
"You've hidden something," she said softly.
He smiled. "You say that every week."
"I've seen the way the elders look at you now. They're afraid. But also curious."
She studied him. "And that mark on your wrist… wasn't there before."
Fang Xi didn't answer.
Instead, he turned to the hall.
Let them look. I'm almost ready to be seen.
⛰ Trial Grounds: Sword Steps of Flowing Wind
The third and final trial was named "The Sword Steps."
A narrow stone path—one thousand stairs—rose between two sheer cliffs, carved centuries ago. Along the ascent, formations flared randomly with blade Qi, illusions, or elemental traps.
The rules were clear:
Survive.
Reach the peak.
And do not turn back.
Only three disciples would pass.
⚔️ The Ascent Begins
Han Yuren stood at the base of the stairs, his expression unreadable. Behind him, Bai Mo muttered calculations. Shui Fang, now recovered from the poisoning, narrowed her eyes at everyone.
Jiang Ping, unranked but recently promoted, was… shockingly on the list.
Fang Xi stepped up silently.
The moment he touched the first stair, a pulse of Qi rippled through the mountain.
The formation had recognized him.
💀 First Blood
The first thirty steps were simple. Wind cuts. Flame bursts. Fang Xi moved like he was rehearsing a memory.
Behind him, screams. One disciple collapsed—face half-melted by fire.
On step 42, he passed Lan Geng again.
"You snake," Lan hissed. "I'll—"
His body jerked.
A phantom blade tore from thin air—cutting his leg off.
He fell. Screamed.
Fang Xi walked past without blinking.
Too slow.
🔒 The 77th Step: The Mirror Gate
Suddenly, Fang Xi stopped.
A shimmering portal had formed. An optional gate, pulsing with spiritual energy.
"The Mirror Gate," Shui Fang whispered behind him. "It's a test within the test. Optional. Risk equals reward."
Fang Xi looked at the stone inscription:
Enter and confront your "echo." Succeed, and awaken hidden strength. Fail… and you will not leave.
He smiled faintly.
And stepped through.
🧠 Within the Gate
He stood in a mirrored room. Alone.
But not alone.
Another Fang Xi sat before him—same robes, same face… but gentler. Kinder.
"Why?" the copy asked.
"You could've lived simply. You could've healed."
Fang Xi didn't flinch. "Healing is weakness. Simplicity is a cage."
The echo rose. Its eyes turned black.
Suddenly, dozens of chains shot out—binding Fang Xi's limbs, his thoughts, his Qi—
No. Not now. I'm close.
He focused. Breathed. Ignored the pain.
And used Memory Snare.
The illusion hesitated.
"What—?"
Fang Xi seized the moment.
One step forward.
One palm strike.
The illusion shattered.
He exited the gate, breath slow but steady.
A black mark shimmered faintly behind his right eye now—visible only in certain angles of light.
Another gift.
🌑 Atop the Steps
Only four disciples reached the final platform.
Han Yuren.
Shui Fang.
Fang Xi.
…And Jiang Ping.
The crowd murmured.
"How did that fool get through?" one elder asked.
Fang Xi smiled.
Because I guided him. Step by step.
And because everyone needs a loyal pawn with luck… or bait.