Sect Entry Exam

It was still early morning when they reached the sect gates.

Massive. Towering. Like stepping into the mouth of a giant beast.

The Elders didn't let them gawk for long.

They were dragged straight to the City Guardian Hall to register.

One by one, they were handed two jade slips.

The first was a temporary sect token.

Needed to enter the exam grounds.

The second was a city identity slip.

The real deal.

This one was serious business.

Etched with their soul signature.

Impossible to fake.

If you tried to sneak in with someone else's?

Execution on the spot.

Leixiao City didn't play around.

Out here, even Core Condensation stage cultivators were street thugs compared to the true elites.

Without that jade?

You were less than dirt.

Once the formalities were done, the Elders waved them off.

"Go to the sect entrance exam grounds. Don't embarrass the Orders."

They started moving.

But before Feng Qiu could take three steps, Elder Su Fang caught his shoulder.

A heavy hand.

A gaze that pinned him like a sword.

"Not you," Elder Su Fang said.

Su FengQiu

I waited while he told the others to move ahead.

Then he stepped toward me, pulling out a jade necklace.

It was smooth, cool to the touch, with a dragon carved into the center.

"Elder Su Fang, what—" I started, but he waved me off.

"Your mother's," he said flatly. "Your father told me to give it to you right before you left. When crushed, it can block a life-threatening attack. Your old man thinks you need it more than him."

I stared at it.

It felt heavier than it looked.

"Why didn't he give it to me himself?" I asked.

He rolled his eyes. "He forgot. Probably 'cause you were too busy embarrassing yourself."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, alright... I'll stop making a fool of myself."

He smirked. "Honestly... I thought you'd be more upset. That's the last thing you've got from your mom."

I looked at the necklace again, fingers brushing over the carving.

"It already happened," I said quietly. "Nothing can change that. At least... not yet. Bye, Uncle."

He chuckled. "Good luck, brat."

"Thanks. Safe travels, Uncle."

By the time I caught up, the others were already blending into the crowd of new arrivals.

The sect's entrance exam grounds were… big.

Like, absurdly big.

And dramatic.

The kind of place that screamed, "Look how important we are."

Black spirit stones paved the ground, and they weren't shy about flexing their wealth either. Those stones probably cost more than our entire city treasury back home. And the pillars? Tall enough to scrape the clouds, each one carved with thunder dragons glaring down like they were judging us.

And judging by the stuck-up faces of the crowd, those dragons would have a lot to judge.

Noble brats from nearby cities strutted around like roosters, their fancy clan robes flapping in the breeze. Every one of them acted like they owned the place.

Me?

I stood off to the side, arms crossed, next to HaoYu.

He was tense. Like, really tense.

Jaw clenched. Shoulders tight. His eyes darting around like he was expecting someone to jump him.

"Relax," I yawned, stretching out my arms. "It's only your future on the line."

He shot me a look that could kill. "You really think now's the time for jokes?"

"Better than crying, isn't it?" I grinned.

Before he could throw something at me, a voice like rolling thunder slammed over the plaza.

"Silence!"

Yeah, that shut everyone up.

I turned toward the raised platform where a bunch of sect elders stood, robes fluttering even though there wasn't much wind. Leading them was Elder Xu Lin, a dude whose face looked like someone carved it from stone and forgot to sand it down.

Spirit Ascension peak.

Strong enough to sneeze and kill half the people here.

"This is the Sky Thunder Divine Sect Entry Exam, under the jurisdiction of Leixiao City!" Elder Xu Lin's voice boomed. "From this day forward, your lives belong to the sect. If you cannot pass… you do not deserve to exist here."

Damn.

Way to kill the mood, old man.

He kept going, listing off the trials like he was announcing executions.

"First, Alchemy Knowledge.

Second, Qi Mastery.

Third, Combat Trial.

Lastly... the Survival Trial in the Blood Forest of Asylum."

The moment he said that, the air shifted.

Even the cocky nobles shut up real quick.

Blood Forest of Asylum.

I'd heard the stories.

Out in the outer layers of the Chaotic Empire, where Demonic Cultivators liked to play with their food.

The elders weren't even sugarcoating it.

We were signing a soul contract.

If we died, that was on us.

No crying to the sect.

No suing anyone.

They couldn't care less.

"Bro…" HaoYu whispered beside me. "They're really throwing us into that hellhole?"

I smirked, letting the excitement bubble up in my chest.

"Yup. Welcome to the big leagues, man."

Soon enough, they started lining us up for the Identity Check.

One by one, people handed over their city slips, got their soul signature scanned, and either passed or got yanked off the stage like garbage.

I yawned again, watching the parade of sweaty, nervous faces.

This was it, huh?

The first step.

Guess I should stop slacking off.

After all…

I'm not here to blend in.

We got herded like a bunch of livestock into the exam hall.

The elders said it was the Alchemy Knowledge trial, but honestly?

It looked more like a glorified classroom with a hundred stone desks and an old man up front who looked like he'd been breathing pill fumes longer than I've been alive.

HaoYu leaned over and whispered, "How much you wanna bet half these kids are gonna write 'pill' with the wrong stroke?"

I smirked. "Bro, some of them probably can't even spell 'alchemy.'"

The old man cleared his throat. His beard was long enough to be used as a rope, and his face looked like someone carved it out of aged bark.

"You will be given three questions. Answer them to the best of your ability. If you can't answer even one, feel free to leave and save yourself the humiliation."

He kept going, listing off the rules like he was announcing executions.

Honestly? He might as well have been.

Some kids were already shaking just from hearing the questions were about basic alchemy principles.

Yikes.

When the paper came around, I gave it a glance.

Yeah... basic my ass.

Question one:

Explain the process of refining a Grade One Vitality Recovery Pill, including the five key herbs, and the temperature stages of the flame during the three refining steps.

I blinked.

Damn.

Even the pill master from my city would have to think twice on this.

HaoYu groaned next to me, scribbling like his life depended on it.

I swear, he studies when I'm not looking.

I, on the other hand, had to dig into the dusty corners of my brain.

Thankfully, my old man never shut up about alchemy basics—said every military brat needed to know how to stop themselves from dying on the battlefield.

I scribbled down the herbs: Scarlet Ginseng, Moon Lotus, Cloud Stem Grass, Bitterleaf, and Spirit Dew Flower.

Yeah, yeah... I'm not a complete idiot.

Temperature stages?

I wrote what I remembered. Probably missing a few fancy details but... who cares?

They were looking for effort, not perfection.

At least, that's what I told myself.

Question two:

List three reasons why pill failure occurs during condensation phase.

Bro. Easy.

I wrote them down in two seconds flat:

Inconsistent flame control. Impure ingredients. Mental distraction during the condensation.

It's always the simple stuff that kills you.

Question three:

Describe the difference between a Grade One Pill and a Grade Two Pill.

"That's it?" I muttered.

Difference was obvious.

Grade Two pills had more Qi density, took longer to refine, and you needed to balance spiritual essence differently.

It's not rocket science, it's common sense.

I finished in record time and leaned back, arms crossed, watching the other kids panic like the paper was about to bite them.

HaoYu finished not long after and shot me a smug look.

"You actually wrote something this time?" he teased.

"Bro, I didn't sleep through every lesson."

Only most of them.

We handed in our papers and walked out like bosses.

Some kids were still stuck on the first question.

"That was the easy trial, huh?" HaoYu said.

I stretched.

"Yeah... makes me wonder how many are gonna drop in the next one."

After the alchemy trial, we didn't even get a full breath before they shoved us toward a different courtyard.

The vibe changed real quick.

Gone were the ink and scrolls. This place had floating stones, spiritual formations, and a giant platform that buzzed with Qi like it was alive.

An elder stood in the center, robes billowing even though there was no wind.

He looked younger than the alchemy guy, but the power rolling off him?

Made my skin itch.

"Welcome to the Qi Mastery trial," he said.

His voice was calm… but every word hit like a slap.

"You will each be given a glowing sphere of Qi. You are to absorb it, cycle it through your meridians, and then channel it into the Qi Stone on your left."

He pointed to the stone pillars lined up in rows.

"Pass the Qi into the stone—smoothly. If it flickers, stalls, or backlashes... you're out."

Simple enough, right?

Wrong.

That glowing orb? It wasn't gentle.

It was like someone stuffed a lightning storm into a marble.

I watched the first kid step up, hands trembling.

He took the orb.

His eyes lit up—then bugged out.

He screamed and fell over.

The Qi backlash knocked him flat.

"Disqualified," the elder said, as casually as if he was ordering lunch.

Ya, it was not simple at all.

HaoYu went up before me.

He looked chill, but I knew him. His eyes sharpened when he was serious.

He held the orb, breathed in, and—

Boom. Smooth.

The Qi flowed into the stone with a clean pulse of light.

The stone flickered blue—a perfect pass.

Showoff.

Then it was my turn.

I grabbed the orb. It hummed in my palm, pulsing like it had a heartbeat.

I let it in.

It was wild. Chaotic.

Way stronger than the stuff we trained with back in the city.

But I didn't fight it.

I guided it—like leading a drunk tiger through a hallway.

Slow, steady, no sudden moves.

Down the arms.

Across the chest.

Through the core.

I could feel it buck and resist, but I forced it into rhythm.

And when I channeled it into the stone?

The damn thing glowed gold for half a second—then dimmed to blue like nothing happened.

I blinked.

The elder blinked.

Everyone blinked.

"...Pass," the elder said, squinting at me like I just cheated somehow.

I walked off with a smirk.

HaoYu grinned. "Bro. What was that golden flash?"

I shrugged. "Probably a reflection."

"From what? Your ego?"

I elbowed him. "Let's keep going before you embarrass yourself in the next one."

HaoYu stepped into the arena like he owned the place.

He wasn't cocky. Just calm. Focused.

That kind of confidence that didn't come from talent alone — it came from years of training when everyone else was still learning how to hold a sword right-side up.

The crowd had started to hush.

Not because they were scared — but because they could feel the tension.

Real combat wasn't some dance. You could die here if you messed up.

The puppet facing HaoYu clicked to life.

You could hear the hum of the spirit stones inside its chest spinning up.

Body Tempering stage 1.

No big deal.

Except it didn't fight like a beginner.

The thing exploded forward—way faster than anyone expected.

I saw a couple kids flinch back just from the pressure of its first step.

HaoYu dodged the first strike by inches.

The second grazed his sleeve — not deep enough to cut, but enough to remind him this wasn't practice back home.

He didn't panic.

Didn't even flinch.

He just moved.

A quick parry.

A step back.

Then a downward slash, sharp and fast.

The puppet deflected it like it'd trained with elders.

For a few breaths, it was just steel-on-steel—clashes so fast you could barely see the strikes.

Each hit ringing out across the arena like thunder.

"Damn," someone whispered behind me. "That puppet's fighting like it wants blood."

"They probably juiced this one up," I muttered. "He got unlucky."

But HaoYu wasn't losing.

He adjusted—changing stance mid-combo.

From wide sweeping strikes to tight, precise cuts.

Targeting joints. Weak points. The neck.

That's when I knew.

He was reading the puppet like a book.

The puppet swung hard — downward slash, full power.

HaoYu caught it with both hands, blades locked together in the center.

You could see his arms shake from the force.

Then he kicked the puppet square in the chest.

It staggered back, and in the same motion, he spun low—

His blade sliced upward from the hip to shoulder.

Sparks flew.

The puppet twitched.

He didn't give it a second.

One final thrust — straight into the center of the chest plate.

Crack.

The spirit core inside fizzled and died.

The puppet froze in place.

Silence.

Then a roar of cheers from the other kids.

The elder scratched his chin. "That was a Qi Foundation Stage 9 response program..." he muttered.

Wait. What?

So it wasn't just Body Tempering?

The moment HaoYu stepped down, sweaty and smirking, they called my name.

"Su FengQiu."

I didn't wait. Walked straight into the ring.

The stage was huge—stone tiles etched with suppression formations that kept stray attacks from spilling out.

In the center stood the thing I'd be fighting:

A puppet. Seven feet tall, armored head to toe in reinforced alloy plates.

It had the strength and body of a Body Tempering stage 2, but its mind?

That's what mattered.

"Core Condensation Response program," the elder announced.

Meaning it could predict my attacks. Counter.

Think.

"Begin."

The puppet moved fast. No warning, no delay.

I barely dodged the first punch—felt the air tear past my cheek.

That thing wasn't here to test me.

It was here to crush me.

I dropped low, sliding under its follow-up strike, and slashed upward with my wooden training sword.

Clang. No dent.

It kicked me square in the ribs—I rolled, gritting my teeth.

It hurt, but not bad enough to stop me.

Gotta use the sword. Gotta use the footwork.

I dashed in again, fainted left—pivoted behind.

Strike the joints.

I slammed my sword at the back of its knee.

Clank.

It staggered.

Not much, but I saw it.

A weak point.

The puppet spun with a spinning backfist—I ducked, barely, and rolled to the side.

"FengQiu, focus," I told myself.

Forget pain. Forget fear.

I drew a breath, centered my stance, and charged again.

This time, I baited it—let it swing, dodged to the inside, and slammed my sword at the joint in its elbow.

CRACK.

Sparks flew.

It flinched.

My blade broke.

Worth it.

I threw the broken sword half at its face. It paused.

Bad move.

I was already leaping.

One foot hit the ground, the other stepped off its knee—up the chest, onto the shoulder—

And I drove my fist into its helmet with everything I had.

BOOM.

The head cracked sideways—enough to throw its balance.

We hit the ground together.

I didn't wait. I flipped up, yanked a loose joint wire, and drove my elbow into the spot where its core processor was probably housed.

Spark. Sputter. Clunk.

The puppet's eyes flickered.

Then dimmed.

Silence.

I stood up, breathing hard, sweat dripping down my back.

The elder watched me for a long second.

Then nodded.

"Pass."

No cheers. No claps. Just that one word.

But it was enough.

I walked off the stage, chest heaving.

HaoYu grinned at me like a fool.

"You trying to ride it into the ground?"

"Worked, didn't it?"

"Guess I can't argue that."

We turned back to face the stage.

After that, two hundred sixty more went up.

Only one hundred and five made it through.

Some were scrappy—clumsy even—but had raw grit.

A girl from the southern district disarmed her puppet completely by accident… then just wailed on it bare-fisted until it dropped.

One boy used half a broken blade like a dagger, slipped past its defenses, and stabbed it between the armor plates.

These were the ones fighting like their lives depended on it.

Because for most of them… it did.

But then there were the seven.

The ones who made it look easy.

One girl shattered her puppet's knee with a single sweep, pinned it down, and cracked its core in under ten seconds.

Another used footwork so sharp an elder actually leaned forward in their seat.

And that boy? The one who never blocked—he just flowed through every gap in the puppet's attack pattern and dropped it in three moves flat.

All seven of them?

Golden stem or higher.

Prodigies and raised with resources the rest of us couldn't even dream of.

"They're not even getting that much respect," HaoYu muttered beside me.

I shrugged. "Obviously. Everyone's thinking the same thing—give us those resources, and we'd do it too."