Chapter 27: A will to turn the heavens
The air around the final trial arena grew heavy with tension as the contestants gathered. The third trial was unlike any that came before it — a test not just of raw power but of mastery. One by one, hopeful cultivators stood trembling before seasoned elders, each at the mid-stage of the Adept Realm. This wasn't a battle they could win; it was a trial to test control, finesse, and resilience.
Jin stood still at the edge of the formation, watching as cultivator after cultivator was struck down. Most couldn't land a single blow. Some managed a desperate defense. A few showed sparks of brilliance, only to be shut down before they could press forward. The arena was a field of frustration and exhaustion.
Despite his recent victories, Jin didn't smile. The clash with Tavren had left an impression on him. If Tavren had better control... if he had used feints or targeted my weaknesses... I would've lost. That sobering thought had replayed in his mind again and again.
"Control wins fights, not just power," he muttered under his breath.
He had spent every moment since the last trial refining the elemental forms he learned during his recovery. Although his advancement to the Adept Realm and his high-grade elemental talent gave him a decisive edge, he now understood how little those meant if his movements were predictable. Technique matters. Control matters. That's the kind of cultivator I want to be.
"Contestant Jin of Aegis Sect," a voice called out, breaking through his reflection. "Step forward."
Jin exhaled deeply and walked into the center of the wide arena, his steps calm, his aura tightly reined in. The elder before him had sharp, calculating eyes and a thin frame. Despite the lack of bulk, the pressure radiating from him was intense, like a taut bowstring ready to snap.
"This one is Elder Menric," the announcer declared. "Mid-stage Adept Realm. Your objective: display effective control and ingenuity in using your element. You may begin."
Menric didn't move. His arms were crossed. His expression was unreadable.
Jin raised his right hand. Flames flickered to life in his palm, spinning in a perfect spiral. He brought up his left and layered a thin blade of compressed flame above it, like a second skin. With a sweep of his arms, he sent a series of fire whips toward Menric, weaving and curling unpredictably.
Menric barely blinked. With a single tap of his foot, a pulse of wind dispersed the flames like mist.
Jin's expression didn't change. He tried again, this time coating the ground in flame and igniting it with a burst of pressure to create a cone of fire from beneath. It surged like a geyser — precise and swift.
The elder raised a hand and with a flick, the flame snuffed out as though a candle had lost its wick.
The audience whispered. Jin felt their gazes shift. The young prodigy who had breezed through the earlier trials now looked... powerless.
Jin took a step back. Sweat beaded on his brow. Not because of exhaustion — but because nothing he did was working.
Then came Menric's move.
A wave of wind burst from his body, slamming into Jin with the force of a crashing tide. Jin skidded across the platform, coughing blood. Before he could regain his footing, another gust slammed into his side. Ribs cracked. He rolled, tried to conjure flame again, but the moment the spark lit, a gust scattered it.
"You've had quite the ego trip," Menric said quietly, still not moving from his spot. "Let's remind you where you stand."
Another gust. Jin barely raised his arms to defend. The force sent him flying into the arena wall. The pain was sharp, shocking. His bones ached. Blood trickled from his lips.
The crowd murmured. Some elders frowned.
"This is excessive."
"Unnecessary..."
But no one stopped it.
Lying crumpled, Jin's vision blurred. Is this it? The pain triggered something deeper — a memory he couldn't shake. The forest. The assassins. His helplessness. The way he couldn't even land a blow, couldn't even crawl away. It was the same now. Once again, he was powerless.
No...
Something ignited in his chest — not flame, not essence. Will.
I refuse to be this weak. I refuse to be helpless. I won't live like this ever again.
As if answering that cry, a tremor ran through his core. His spiritual sea stirred. From within, the slumbering dark orb pulsed.
His limbs trembled. Pain racked his body, but still he pushed up from the ground. Essence flared around him, unstable, wild.
"Enough." Menric's voice echoed. "You've been tested—"
But Jin didn't hear it. His mind had gone inward, back to that dream... the memory of an ancient sign, carved in starlight. Without thought, his fingers began to form it in the air.
One stroke. His essence flared.
Two strokes. The sky above dimmed.
Three strokes. All essence reserves drained in an instant.
Darkness fell.
The sun was eclipsed by a black mist. The sky churned. The only light came from the glowing symbol Jin had half-finished — a sigil of impossible complexity and ancient weight.
Every cultivator present felt it — an instinctual dread. A coldness that crept into their bones and whispered of death.
In the observation stands, three elders from the Aegis Sect rose in unison. Late-stage Adept Realm, all of them. Their eyes widened, sweat appearing on their brows.
"What is that...?"
"That pressure... it's—impossible."
"Something ancient... and dangerous."
Menric stood frozen. His foot shifted back without him realizing it. The symbol floated between him and Jin, pulsing with dread. The air bent around it, and with each pulse, his knees grew weaker.
Suddenly, his leg gave out.
He fell to his knees.
This feeling… this primal fear… it's like death is staring at me…
And Jin — still bleeding, barely conscious — stood motionless, unconscious of the fear he'd inspired.
The wind stopped. Time seemed to freeze. The sky trembled.
And then, the symbol shattered into light.
The dark clouds vanished. The air returned to normal. But silence reigned.
No one moved. No one breathed.
Jin collapsed forward, his body limp, eyes closed.
Even in defeat, he had shaken the world.