The trial is approaching its climax, and soon, only those within the safe zones will advance.
But this battle?
It is far from over.
De-Reece and Kalia stand at the threshold of the glowing safe zone, their opponents—two sect hopefuls promised a place in Mount Heng—staggered, unprepared for the ferocity of their attack.
The cultivator grips his bleeding arm, eyes wide with surprise. He had assumed Kalia would hesitate, that she would respect his strength or at least give him time to react.
She had not.
The sword wielder beside him clenches his teeth, shifting his stance to counter—but his footing is still unstable from De-Reece's Sky Shattering Demon Palm. His opening attack had not only disrupted the terrain but thrown off their rhythm.
They had been waiting to defend their position.
Now they were fighting to keep it.
De-Reece doesn't let them breathe.
Because in a real fight, hesitation is defeat.
De-Reece moves first.
His body flickers—Shadow Phantom Steps.
In an instant, he is within striking distance, his presence imposing, suffocating.
The sword-wielding hopeful tries to adjust, but he is already too slow.
De-Reece's fist slams forward, not aimed at his opponent's weapon, but at his centerline.
Domineering Demon Fist.
The air compresses around the strike—not just a punch, but a forceful shockwave of power.
The hopeful barely manages to raise his sword in defence—but De-Reece had never intended to strike him directly.
The goal was to control.
The impact does not land cleanly on flesh. It lands on steel.
The sheer force rattles the young man's entire body, sending him skidding back with a sharp grunt.
His grip on his sword loosens.
And in a duel where a single misstep means defeat?
That is enough.
The rogue cultivator tries to exploit the opening.
As De-Reece forces the sword wielder back, his gauntleted fist swings forward, aiming to strike before Kalia can respond.
But she is already moving.
Kalia doesn't waste motion. She doesn't overreach.
She simply twists her body, stepping to the side— letting the attack pass through empty air.
Then—her saber cuts upward.
It is not a deep slash.
It is not meant to be.
The blade tears into his shoulder, forcing his entire momentum off-course.
The rogue hopeful grits his teeth, staggering back.
But Kalia is already pressing forward.
The two sect hopefuls had believed their position was secured.
They had expected challengers, but not opponents who fought like this.
Not opponents who fought with the intensity of those who had survived real battle.
The sword wielder breathes heavily, eyes darting to the shrinking battlefield. He is running out of options.
The cultivator lowers his stance, his injuries making it clear he can't fight much longer.
**And in that instant—**they know.
They lost.
The sword wielder steps back, lowering his blade. His knuckles are white around the hilt, his jaw clenched with unspoken frustration.
The rogue hopeful, though reluctant, exhales sharply, lifting his uninjured hand.
A silent surrender.
They step out of the safe zone.
It now belongs to De-Reece and Kalia.
No words are exchanged.
None are needed.
The battlefield is cruel.
Only the strong advance.
The safe zone hums with the steady glow of golden runes, its boundary marking the difference between those who will advance and those who will fall.
De-Reece and Kalia stand within its protection, their victory earned, not given.
But the battlefield?
It is still in motion.
From their secured position, they observe.
The remaining competitors scramble, fight, and fall.
Some make reckless last-ditch efforts, launching themselves toward the nearest safe zone—only to be intercepted before they can reach it.
Others stall in indecision, realising too late that they are already doomed.
And the strongest?
They carve their own paths forward.
De-Reece's gaze sharpens as he picks them out—the ones who survive not through luck, but through dominance.
They are the real threats.
A Cold and Calculating Spear Wielder – A Jin Spear Sect hopeful who never wasted movement, only striking when absolutely necessary.
A Silent Sword Clan Contender – One of the few who never fought directly, instead eliminating rivals in a single precise attack.
A Mysterious Competitor in Concealed Robes – They have yet to reveal their strength, only fighting enough to survive.
A Fierce Martial Artist – A body cultivator whose sheer endurance allowed them to bulldoze their way into a safe zone.
Each one has advanced because they are capable.
Each one is a potential obstacle in the next round.
And De-Reece takes note of all of them.
Beside him, Kalia exhales slowly, rolling her shoulder. She is calm, but he can tell—she is already planning her next moves.
Her gaze lingers on the Silent Sword Clan contender.
"That one's dangerous," she mutters. "They barely moved the entire trial, but every time they did, someone fell."
De-Reece nods.
She isn't wrong.
But he also knows that the Jin Spear Sect hopeful is just as dangerous.
They all are.
But that's fine.
Because he has no intention of losing.
"Kalia your strong but be careful in this trial, I don't know how well be split up and who may try to target us we need to be on our guard"
"I understand" she replies
"it's mostly my fault so ill try to take the brunt where I can and no arguing"
Her silent response is all he needs in acknowledgement
The final collapse of the battlefield signals the end of the first trial.
Those outside the safe zones vanish into nothingness, eliminated instantly.
And those within?
They are the ones who will continue.
The second trial awaits.
And this time, survival alone will not be enough.
The battlefield has vanished behind them.
The collapsing platforms, the desperate fights for survival, the golden safe zones—all of it is gone.
The remaining competitors now stand within a sealed courtyard, a large open space carved from ancient stone.
A single figure, clad in ornate robes, steps forward onto a raised platform.
The Sect Overseer.
His gaze sweeps over the gathered cultivators, lingering on those who emerged victorious.
Then, he speaks.
"You have survived the first trial. But survival alone does not make you worthy."
His voice carries effortlessly, weighty with authority.
"The next challenge awaits. But for now—you rest."
A ripple of relief moves through some of the competitors, though none let their guard down entirely.
"You will be given time to recover. Use it wisely."**
Then—without further ceremony—he turns and disappears beyond the towering stone archway.
The tension in the air lingers.
But for now?
There is peace.
The break is not long, but for those who fought through the chaos of the first trial, it is enough.
Some take the opportunity to meditate, calming their breathing and recovering their qi.
Others observe their rivals, memorizing movements, strengths, and weaknesses.
A few even seek out temporary alliances, knowing that the coming trials may not be won alone.
For De-Reece?
This is a time to think and recuperate.
Handing pills to kalia and strategizing while meditating is how he uses his time.
Seated on a smooth section of stone near the edge of the courtyard, De-Reece closes his eyes.
The first trial had been as much about control as it was about power. Those who lacked strategy were gone.
But those who remained?
They were not weak.
Some had survived by brute force. Others—like himself—had dictated the battle without wasting unnecessary strength.
That would not go unnoticed.
He exhales slowly, suppressing the growing weight of the competition.
There is no point dwelling on what comes next.
Because when the time comes?
He will be ready.
Kalia, standing a short distance away, stretches her arms with deliberate movements.
She is not tired.
The first trial had tested her raw power, but she had come out stronger than ever.
Still—she is not foolish.
This was just the beginning.
Her gaze drifts to De-Reece, watching as he remains perfectly still.
He never wastes movement. Never lets emotion cloud his actions.
And yet, she knows—
Something is always turning in his mind.
She doesn't interrupt him.
Instead, she closes her own eyes, breathing deeply.
Because when the next trial begins?
She will be ready, too.
From across the courtyard, someone watches.
They have seen everything.
The way De-Reece eliminated competitors without showing his full strength.
The way Kalia adapted, striking with precision.
They do not speak.
But when the second trial begins…
They will act.