At last, Xiao Lei released the Shattering Howl.

  The sound tore from him—not loud, but piercing, a resonance that shook bone and marrow. The three beasts advancing faltered mid-leap, claws freezing in air, their eyes clouded as if struck blind. Xiao Lei did not hesitate. His form blurred, closing the gap in a rush, clawed glove descending in a brutal arc. Bone splintered beneath his strike, the first beast collapsing before the echo of its cry had faded.

  Even as its body crumpled, his bow was already raised. Two arrows hissed forth in succession, silver streaks burning like lightning across the air. They struck with surgical precision, burying into the skulls of the wounded beasts. Both toppled where they stood, twitching once, then still.

  Victory gave no reprieve.

  Another wave stirred into being—ten shapes spilling from smoke, their auras pressing down like a tide of iron fog, hunger gleaming in their eyes.

  Xiao Lei’s chest heaved. His body bore gouges that burned with every motion; sweat plastered his hair as blood slid from his hand, dripping onto stone in a cruel rhythm.

  Fatigue pressed in like chains, but retreat was not a thought he allowed. If he miscalculated here, if his name slipped from the top fifteen, the Vanishing Valley would close to him. That chance—so rare, so vital—he would not abandon.

  The beasts circled, shadows weaving around him in a tightening coil. Their claws scraped stone. Their growls built into a low, suffocating hum. Xiao Lei’s bow shifted in small, sharp movements, his gaze tracking for the thinnest opening.

  Then, as if one mind directed them, four lunged. Four bodies cutting in from four sides.

  Arrows flew, his arms snapping with practiced instinct. Two fell, rolling back under piercing shafts. But the third broke through. Its jaw yawned wide, rows of jagged teeth descending toward his skull.

  Xiao Lei’s foot tensed—Void Step hung ready. Yet some unfamiliar pull stilled his body.

  Deep within his chest, the Black Heart stirred.

  Until now it had beat as any heart might, steady and unnoticed. Now, it throbbed with a force that rattled through his ribs. Each pulse darker, heavier, until it shone with an abyssal gleam, as if his very blood had turned to shadow. Its rhythm accelerated—pounding like the surge of some hidden engine.

  And with it, his aura climbed.

  The beasts halted, snarls breaking into confusion as invisible pressure rolled outward. The two closest recoiled, bodies shuddering as if struck.

  Higher. Higher still. His cultivation surged past its tether, soaring from the peak of sixth stage, through barriers that cracked and splintered under the Black Heart’s force.

  At last, it steadied. Xiao Lei stood transformed, strength blazing at the pinnacle of the ninth stage.

  Xiao Lei froze, astonished.

  It wasn’t as though he had ignored the Black Heart after returning from the barracks—he had probed it, pressed his will against it, searched for threads of meaning. Yet every attempt ended in silence. All he had to cling to were the Sovereign of Will’s words. “In time, you will discover its purpose.” A promise without explanation.

  Now, that promise revealed its weight.

  Power coursed through him in waves, raw and unrestrained, thrumming in marrow until even his breath felt sharpened. To leap three stages in an instant—madness belonging only to legends—yet he sensed this was not the ceiling.

  The Black Heart carried layers—four steps, four doors. This was only the first, a fumbling touch at the threshold. With control, the surge could become far more than this fleeting glimpse.

  The beasts felt it too. His aura pressed down like stone grinding on bone; the beasts’ hackles rose, bodies shrinking back a fraction. Yet they were still beasts—blood-hunger overrode hesitation. Constructs or not, intelligence flickered only faintly in their eyes. After that brief pause, they lunged again, claws raking the air.

  This time Xiao Lei moved like shadow breaking apart. His steps carved arcs around their strikes, every dodge effortless, every counter merciless. One beast’s spine cracked under his claws, another’s throat split with a shaft of light. Then the rhythm collapsed into slaughter, until silence returned, the floor littered with fading husks of smoke.

  Another round—survived.

  Beyond the dome, the trial itself neared its end.

  Across the field, domes winked out one after another, their light collapsing as exhausted students stumbled free. Only a few remained, covering those whose talent and endurance had carried them deeper. Yet it was not the fresh domes that drew the crowd’s eyes, but the one that had endured the longest—unchanging, immovable, like a mountain among shifting clouds.

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  Whispers thickened into a tide. Names were thrown, speculations clashed, voices low with awe or edged with envy. Who could last so long?

  No answer came. No one could claim certainty, so all they could do was wait for the veil to lift and the figure to emerge.

  Even Elder Yi’s gaze lingered on that dome. His expression, usually serene, held a sharp gleam of curiosity. For inner academy disciples, such persistence was not unprecedented—he had seen youths of established strengths hold out even longer. But for an outer disciple? This was something else entirely.

  He beckoned the instructor overseeing the stage, hoping for some clue, some fragment of recognition. The man only shook his head, admitting the boy within was a stranger even to him.

  Elder Yi’s breath caught. A new student? Absurd—yet the thought rooted all the same. If so, then the outer academy sheltered a monster.

  And monsters, once revealed, could not be ignored.

  Inside the shimmering blue dome, Xiao Lei cut through the next few waves as though they were nothing. His arrows sang, his claws struck, and spirit beasts dissolved the moment they appeared—like mist driven apart by the morning sun.

  But the ease could not last.

  Each heartbeat dragged weight into his limbs. Veins burned as if molten iron coursed through them, his skin too tight to hold the storm inside. The surge that had carried him now revealed its shadow—muscles heavy as iron, every breath leaden.

  The Black Heart lent him power, but power demanded its price. Whether it was the strain of wielding it, or his own raw inexperience, he had no space to wonder. The next beast was already at his throat.

  He pivoted, loosing an arrow that pierced one skull clean through, yet pain exploded across his shoulder as another beast’s jaws clamped down. Flesh tore. Bone cracked. His left arm vanished in a spray of blood.

  The agony was blinding.

  Still—he did not scream. His right hand seized the creature’s head, fingers driving past eye sockets into soft matter, gouging until the beast convulsed and fell limp. When its body dissolved into haze, Xiao Lei dropped to one knee, blood soaking his chest. His breath came ragged, hollow, every inhale scraping his ribs like broken glass.

  Silence followed. A silence too sharp, too absolute.

  Then the next wave stepped forth—seven beasts, each brimming with the aura of the ninth stage of Qi Awakening. They moved slowly, deliberately, spreading out, their paws scuffing against the ground as they closed the circle. Shadows stretched, their growls low and resonant, echoing against the walls of the illusion.

  Xiao Lei’s head hung forward. His body trembled. His vision blurred. He seemed on the verge of collapse, unable even to lift his bow. But in the darkness behind lowered lashes, his gaze burned with a cold, unyielding fire.

  The beasts crept nearer, the ring tightening. Claws scraped the stone floor, fangs bared to rip him apart.

  And then—his head snapped up.

  The Howl burst from him, tearing the silence asunder. The sound was not merely heard but felt, a resonance that cracked through marrow and soul alike.

  Space itself seemed to ripple, and behind him the void stirred. From that abyss stepped the towering silhouette of a wolf vast and spectral, its fur shimmering like heat-haze, eyes sealed yet its presence scoured marrow and soul alike.

  The beasts froze where they stood. Their limbs shook, instincts crushed beneath the pressure of that spectral predator.

  Xiao Lei surged forward, every fibre of his body screaming, forcing his broken frame into motion. His sole fist became a hammer, smashing through hide and bone. Teeth clenched, he gripped his bow in his mouth, loosing arrows one after another. His shots struck true—not from calm precision, but from raw, merciless will.

  Beasts staggered under wounds left by his earlier strikes, their slowed movements making them little more than prey.

  Even as his body broke, the Black Heart hammered on—and his resolve struck back, darker and sharper with every pulse.

  Evening sank deeper across the training grounds, shadows stretching long while the sky bled into violet. Of the many testing platforms, only five still lay hidden beneath their shimmering domes of light. Two had flared into being only moments ago; the other three had endured for far longer, their glow steady as the hours slipped by.

  At last, one of the older domes rippled, its surface dimming before collapsing like mist under wind. From within, a girl staggered forward. Her steps faltered, but hands rushed to steady her—friends catching her before she fell from the stage.

  A murmur rolled through the watching disciples.

  “So it was Elder Sister Mai,” someone whispered.

  Another voice followed quickly, threaded with both awe and calculation.

  “With that strength, she could’ve joined the inner academy. But against their monsters, even Vanishing Valley would slip from her grasp. Out here, her odds shine brighter.”

  Mai stood a moment longer, gaze drawn to the remaining domes. Four lights still shimmered, unbroken. For a heartbeat, longing flickered across her face, disappointment shadowing her features. Her fingers curled briefly at her side, nails pressing into her palm, before she exhaled, smoothed her expression, and turned away with quiet dignity.

  “I’ll wager Brother Yu will be the last to emerge,” one onlooker muttered, half in hope, half in certainty.

  “Of course. Brother Yu’s already at the middle stage of Qi Awakening. He’s the strongest of us outer disciples.”

  As if answering their words, the two most recent domes wavered. Blue light thinned, dissolving into air, and two silhouettes stumbled into view. Exhausted, their shoulders bowed, they descended without notice. No one spared them a glance. Every gaze was fixed instead on the last two domes still holding.

  One shimmered. The veil peeled away like water falling from stone, revealing a tall youth. His hair caught the faint light like strands of silver. Sweat-slick and breathless, yet his shoulders still carried pride. Step by deliberate step, he descended the platform, and the crowd erupted.

  “Brother Yu!”

  “Of course it’d be him… who else could last so long?”

  But the cheers broke with sudden confusion. Someone’s voice cut through.

  “If Brother Yu has already come out… then who’s in that last dome?”

  The question spread like fire through dry grass. Even Yu himself froze, the sound striking him harder than praise. His head turned, silver hair clinging to his damp forehead, gaze fixed upon the lone dome that still shone. He had seen it before he entered, had wondered even then—but now, with every other contender fallen or emerged, that question coiled tighter in every chest.

  The final dome flickered.

  Light fractured. Then it collapsed in a single breath, revealing a solitary figure.

  He was deathly pale, as if every drop of blood had drained from his skin. Yet when his eyes lifted to the crowd, a ripple passed through them all. His gaze cut like frost down their spines, cold and unrelenting, carrying the weight of something unspoken.

  “It’s the New Student,” someone whispered, almost in disbelief.

  No one spoke. Their voices froze, as if that single glance had stripped sound from the air.

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  Destiny Reckoning. It’s set in the same universe, and you definitely don’t want to miss it, because the stories will eventually crossover.