The deep, resonant echo of the ceremonial gong rippled through the Hall of Whispering Pines, reverberating like thunder in Li Yuan Tian's chest. With that single sound, the regional trials drew to a close. Dust still danced in the air from the last bout, but the path ahead was already stretching before them—a path bound for the Imperial Capital, for the Grand Tournament that would shake the foundation of the Xianlin Kingdom.
Three years. That was all the time granted to prepare for the greatest challenge a cultivator of this generation would face. For many, it would be a time of celebration and rest. But for Li Yuan Tian, the ticking of that unseen clock sounded more like a blade descending toward his neck.
He stood quietly at the edge of the arena as the elders convened at the center, selecting the few chosen to represent their region. The scent of burnt qi and blood still lingered, mingling with the sharp scent of pine from the surrounding forest. It wasn't the time to bask in victory. Not yet.
Fei Yuxin's fall during the final duel had secured his name on the scroll, but he knew better than anyone that he had won by grit, instinct, and sheer desperation—not mastery.
He was far from ready.
A Hidden Opportunity
Li Yuan Tian returned to his quarters in the outer sect two days later. His ribs still ached with every breath, and the pulse of strained qi occasionally stung his core. He was healing, but slowly. And healing alone wasn't enough.
What truly gnawed at him was the chasm between himself and the true talents of the capital—he had glimpsed it in the elder's eyes when they announced the names of the top five. That unspoken truth: you may have survived, but survival is not victory.
In the long hours of sleepless rest, one whisper surfaced in his memory. A murmur heard from two elders during a late-night tea session after the semifinals:
"The Ruins of the Forgotten Valley still pulse with old formations. The ancients sealed something there—something beyond Pseudo Core. But no one's broken through the final ring of glyphs in a century."
Most would ignore such tales. But Li Yuan Tian had seen what desperation and legacy could create. He wasn't most.
The Decision
A week passed.
When his body had recovered enough to move freely, Li Yuan Tian made his choice. There would be no leisurely wait for the Finals. He would spend these three years like a man drowning in fire—desperate, driven, and unrelenting.
He approached the sect elders that morning with quiet determination. They offered no resistance. Some gave a slight nod, while others simply turned away. None tried to stop him. They all understood.
The Ruins of the Forgotten Valley had long become a crucible. Only a handful returned from its misted depths. Those that did were changed—scarred, stronger, sometimes broken—but undeniably tempered.
Arrival at the Edge
Three days later, he stood at the edge of the valley.
The landscape shifted before him—where the gentle pine forests of the outer regions gave way to jagged stones, hanging vines, and crumbling statuary swallowed by time. The air here was charged with something old. It wasn't spiritual energy in the way he knew it. It was raw, almost savage—twisting and turning like a beast trapped in its cage.
The mist was thick. Not ethereal or divine, but suffocating, like the breath of an ancient buried thing exhaling into the world.
Rust-eaten talismans fluttered from broken posts. Bones—some human, some not—lay scattered like forgotten warnings. Even the trees bowed away from the valley, as if unwilling to grow into its curse.
Li Yuan Tian took a single step forward—and instantly, his body trembled.
The pressure wasn't crushing, but it wasn't natural either. The energy here didn't support. It resisted.
A half-formed formation rune sparked under his boot and vanished, reacting to his presence like a startled animal. All around him, fragments of old arrays littered the ground—carved into stone, half-buried in roots, broken and humming faintly with residual power.
Fate Intervenes
Hours passed as he carefully navigated deeper into the valley, marking his path with small paper talismans soaked in qi. Every few feet, a faint glyph would shimmer from beneath a rock or tree. Why are there so many incomplete arrays? he thought. It was as if someone—or something—had once tried to seal or unseal something here. Or perhaps it was still ongoing.
Suddenly—BOOM—a muffled explosion echoed through the mist.
Li Yuan Tian froze, his hand going to his blade. Then came another sound—softer, but unmistakably human.
"Damn it! I calibrated the anchoring points correctly… it shouldn't have collapsed!"
The voice was young, frustrated, and deeply annoyed. Not a scavenger. Not a bandit.
A formation master.
He crept closer, staying low. The mist parted briefly to reveal a boy—no older than seventeen—with disheveled robes covered in chalk marks and paper slips. Around him were three partially activated formation plates, sparking with unstable energy. A low hum reverberated through the ground as a sigil fizzled out.
The boy sighed, running a hand through his short, ink-streaked hair.
"This damn resonance layer… what kind of madman stacks a spatial lock beneath a shifting gravity field?"
Li Yuan Tian stepped into the clearing.
"Maybe someone who didn't want it opened."
The boy jumped, spinning around with a defensive charm in hand—but seeing Li Yuan Tian, he relaxed slightly.
"You're not one of the others. Not a beast hunter either. Hmm... You don't even look like you understand formations."
Li Yuan Tian raised an eyebrow. "And yet I found you."
That made the boy grin.
"Point taken. Name's Zhao Qilin. Wandering formation researcher and occasional genius. And you are?"
"Li Yuan Tian."
Zhao Qilin's eyes lit up at the name. "The one who took down Fei Yuxin during the trials? What, you here for glory too?"
Li Yuan Tian didn't answer directly. He glanced at the flickering formation circle instead. "What are you trying to open?"
Zhao Qilin's grin vanished.
"Something ancient. Something… sealed. I think it's part of an inheritance formation. But the final array—it's beyond anything I've studied. And it's layered atop something even stranger. The energy flow reminds me of… something beyond the Pseudo Core threshold."
Li Yuan Tian's eyes sharpened. "Beyond…?"
Zhao Qilin nodded, his voice lowering. "Maybe. But I can't break it. Not yet. It's like the array is waiting for something. Or someone."
Li Yuan Tian turned his gaze toward the depths of the mist-shrouded ruin.
For the first time since stepping into the valley, a strange feeling crept into his chest—not fear, but anticipation. He wouldn't reach the next realm today. Maybe not even in the next year.