The instant Ren Zian's hand pressed fully onto the Testing Pillar, the world seemed to shift.
A low hum reverberated through the marble beneath his feet.
The ancient runes carved into the pillar's surface flared to life — not in the dull reds or soft blues seen before, but in a brilliant, blinding gold.
The light shot skyward like a divine spear, tearing into the clouds above.
The entire plaza froze.
For a heartbeat, there was only silence.
Then the pressure hit.
A massive astral shockwave burst from the pillar, rippling across the plaza like a tidal wave.
The weaker students cried out, stumbling back several steps. A few even collapsed, clutching their chests, struggling to breathe.
Families gasped, shielding themselves instinctively.
Even veteran instructors at the Late Foundation and Core levels were forced to steady themselves.
And at the center of it all, Ren Zian stood calmly, his robes fluttering in the unseen wind.
The suppressing stone tucked under his robes cracked silently — unable to contain the sheer force leaking from his body anymore.
Golden light wrapped around him like a second skin, a regal and domineering aura bleeding into the air.
Master Han staggered.
He stared at the pillar in horror and awe, blinking rapidly to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.
He opened his mouth once.
No words came.
He tried again.
"F-Fourth Celestial Layer..." he croaked, voice trembling.
The plaza erupted.
"FOURTH LAYER!?"
"THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!"
Screams, gasps, and stunned silence tangled together.
Even among cultivators, Fourth Layer Astral Veins were myths, stories told to inspire.
In all of Earth's recorded history, not a single person had awakened a Fourth Layer vein at their first awakening.
Until now.
Juno Lai's hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Her father muttered a curse under his breath, while her mother clutched his arm for balance.
Lu Tianhao, standing near the front, stiffened.
His face drained of color. His posture, once proud and cocky, slumped slightly as he stared, frozen, at the stage.
His lips moved soundlessly, searching for some explanation.
The VIP section reacted instantly.
The golden-armored envoy of the Heavenly Dragon Dojo stood up sharply, his eyes gleaming.
The crimson-robed woman from Scarlet Cloud Temple raised a single eyebrow — her first visible emotion since descending.
The Titan Gate envoy chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that shook the very floor.
All of them leaned forward now, their spiritual senses locked onto Ren Zian as if he were a rare treasure just unearthed.
The surrounding air thickened, hundreds of invisible threads of intent weaving around the stage.
Ren Zian ignored it all.
Master Han, still pale, cleared his throat desperately and motioned for the second part of the testing — the Astral Energy density resonance.
An attendant rushed forward, setting up a specialized astral measuring device: a black monolith covered in layered runes.
Zian stepped forward without hesitation.
He placed his hand against the monolith.
At first, nothing happened.
Then the device screamed.
Golden energy surged into it, overwhelming the ancient artifact almost instantly.
The first measuring ring — Early Foundation — lit up.
Then the second — Mid Foundation.
Then the third — Late Foundation.
The rings glowed so violently that cracks spiderwebbed across the monolith's surface.
An attendant cried out and scrambled backward as the device exploded, sending harmless shards of crystal scattering across the ground.
A stunned hush fell over the plaza once more.
Master Han wiped his forehead with a trembling hand.
He opened his mouth.
"He clearly hadn't awakened a week ago... Late Astral Foundation Stage...less than a week after awakening…" he whispered hoarsely.
The crowd went insane.
"Late Foundation already!?"
"Monster!"
"This is a demon!"
Juno's eyes shone with admiration, and maybe a little terror.
Lu Tianhao clenched his fists so tightly that blood seeped from his palms.
Everything he had built his pride on crumbled before his eyes.
He wasn't the star.
He wasn't even a candle next to Ren Zian's sun.
Zian stood there silently, the golden aura still pulsing faintly around him.
He didn't smirk.
He didn't gloat.
He simply watched.
Calm.
Proud.
Unshakable.
The VIPs moved first.
The golden-armored envoy of the Heavenly Dragon Dojo stepped off the platform and floated down to the stage.
He landed with a heavy thud, armor clanking slightly, before striding toward Zian with purpose.
He stopped a respectful distance away, cupped his fists, and bowed slightly.
"Heavenly Dragon Dojo greets the young lord," he said, his voice like a war drum.
Gasps swept through the crowd again.
"Young lord?!"
"They're treating him like a king!"
Before Zian could reply, the crimson-robed woman from Scarlet Cloud Temple appeared, almost gliding across the stage.
She nodded elegantly.
"Scarlet Cloud Temple extends its highest offer to you, Ren Zian. A direct disciple seat. Immediate Core Member status."
Another massive shock to the crowd.
Direct disciple?
Core member?
These were positions people would kill for — and they were being offered immediately, without tests, without delay.
Then the Titan Gate envoy stomped forward, his laughter booming.
"Hahaha! Kid! Join Titan Gate! I'll personally train you. No boring ceremonies. No red tape. Power, pure and simple!"
Each offer was more outrageous than the last.
Even Master Han looked like he was about to faint.
For the first time, Zian spoke.
His voice was calm, low, but carried easily across the stunned plaza.
"I thank the esteemed powers for your offers," he said, bowing slightly in return — formal, but not subservient.
"But before I make any decisions... I'd like to complete the ceremony."
The envoys smiled faintly.
They understood.
This dragon had pride.
Good.
Zian turned back toward the crowd — students, families, instructors — all staring at him as if he were some myth made flesh.
He saw awe.
Jealousy.
Fear.
Hope.
It didn't matter.
Because from this moment forward, nothing would ever be the same.
Above, the banners of the greatest powers of Earth snapped in the wind.
The sky burned gold.
And on the marble stage, the dragon finally spread his wings.
The Awakening Grounds were still buzzing with whispers and echoes as Ren Zian and his father, Ren Zhantian, moved toward one of the less crowded exits.
The official ceremony was over.
The golden name still hovered in the sky.
The offers still hung heavily in the air.
But beneath all that awe and admiration, Zian could feel it — a subtle, coiling tension.
The weight of too many eyes.
The kind that didn't clap or cheer.
The kind that measured, plotted, calculated.
He walked calmly, but every step felt like it pulled invisible threads tighter around him.
Zhantian said nothing for a long while, his sharp gaze scanning the crowd.
Only when they neared the edge of the plaza did he finally speak, voice low:
"Stay sharp. Today wasn't a victory. It was a declaration of war."
Zian didn't need the warning.
He could feel it already — the shift in how the world looked at him.
Not like a student.
Not like a prodigy.
But like a prize.
And prizes... got hunted.
They were almost at the gates when it happened.
A group detached itself casually from the crowd, stepping into their path with practiced nonchalance.
There were three of them — two men and one woman, all dressed in dark gray martial robes stitched with unfamiliar emblems.
Their cultivation wasn't low.
One Mid Core stage, two Late Foundation.
Not terrifying compared to true monsters.
But dangerous enough if one was careless.
The tallest of them, a lean man with silver hair and a polite smile, stepped forward.
He bowed slightly.
"Ren Zian, is it? Congratulations on your awakening," he said smoothly.
"A miraculous feat. Historic, truly."
Zian's eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his posture relaxed.
Zhantian said nothing. He simply shifted his foot half an inch — a casual move that somehow turned his entire presence razor sharp.
The silver-haired man continued, undeterred.
"My organization believes talent like yours deserves... a higher stage. The major dojos are impressive, no doubt, but they have many dragons already. You would be another pearl lost in a vast ocean."
He smiled wider, like a salesman offering candy to a child.
"We propose something better. Direct leadership training. Total resource backing. Freedom. Power."
Zian almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead, he simply asked:
"And what would I owe you?"
The man's smile sharpened.
"Only loyalty, of course," he said. "And certain... future considerations."
A long pause.
And then, ever so faintly:
"Refusal would be... unfortunate."
The air chilled.
Behind the man's smile now lay steel — and blood.
Zhantian finally moved.
He took one step forward.
The ground cracked beneath his foot.
The silver-haired man's eyes widened slightly as an unseen pressure smashed down on him. A force so raw, so oppressive, it made even the Mid Core cultivator tremble.
The other two staggered back instinctively, color draining from their faces.
Zhantian's voice was quiet.
Dangerous.
Final.
"Leave."
The silver-haired man opened his mouth — whether to argue, bargain, or threaten further, no one would ever know.
Because in the next instant, Zhantian released a fraction more of his aura — and the silver-haired man dropped to one knee, unable to withstand it.
A small, humiliating moment, but a fatal one.
He scrambled up, bowing awkwardly, and retreated with his companions into the crowd without another word.
Zian exhaled slowly.
Zhantian gave him a sidelong glance.
"Welcome to the real world."
"Although I'm not at the Ascendant realm quite yet, I still have somewhat of a deterrent on these small fries." His father chuckled
Zian smiled but deep down he was worried. Not just for himself, but his family.
They left the plaza through a secondary route, avoiding the main roads where crowds still lingered.
Above, the skies were still marked by the shadows of the descending great powers' ships.
The world was changing — and Zian was now at its heart.
They reached a private hovercar waiting on the city's outskirts.
Zhantian tapped a code into a small device, activating a heavy astral shield around the vehicle.
Inside, the hum of spiritual energy muffled the world outside.
Finally, a moment of silence.
Zian sat back, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
For a long time, he stared at his hands, hands that had touched the Astral God Space, hands that now carried the weight of dragons and legends.
But also hands that, right now, could barely defend themselves against the true monsters lurking out there.
He clenched his fists.
"I'm not strong enough yet," he muttered.
Zhantian, adjusting the car's course, grunted.
"Strength is never enough," he said.
"Today, you saw it. Talent draws praise. But it also paints a target on your back."
"The stronger you are, the more dangerous your life becomes."
He paused, then added:
"This city won't be safe for long."
Zian turned to him, eyebrow raised.
Zhantian elaborated:
"New Moon City is mid-tier at best. Before long, every major power, every bloodline family, every independent sect will know about you."
"Some will want to recruit you."
"Some will want to use you."
"Some... will want to kill you."
The words weren't dramatics.
They were facts.
Zian leaned back, silent for a moment.
Then he smiled slightly.
A sharp, dangerous smile.
"Good."
Zhantian chuckled dryly.
"That's the spirit."
They drove in silence for a while, crossing into the inner residential districts.
Zian stared out the window at the bustling city — vendors shouting, children playing, astral lights dancing in the streets.
It all looked so normal.
So... small now.
He had touched something bigger.
He couldn't go back.
Finally, he asked:
"What's next?"
Zhantian didn't answer immediately.
He drove another few minutes before pulling the hovercar into a private underground garage hidden behind a mundane storefront.
Only after the heavy astral gates sealed shut did he turn to Zian fully.
His expression was more serious than Zian had ever seen.
"Next," he said, "we prepare for war."
Zian's eyebrows lifted slightly.
Zhantian continued:
"You need to reach the Astral Core Stage as fast as possible — but not recklessly.
Your foundation must be perfect."
"We'll begin closed-door training.
Secret locations.
Real opponents."
"No more playing around."
Zian's blood stirred at the words.
He could already imagine it, endless battles, countless breakthroughs, pain, blood, triumph.
The path of kings.
He smiled wider.
"When do we start?"
Zhantian's mouth quirked into something resembling a grin.
"Now."
Above them, unnoticed in the starry skies, various satellites rotated.
Messages and images zipped across encrypted channels to distant lands.
Atop the highest towers of the great powers, old monsters stirred in their meditation chambers.
Across oceans, in hidden valleys, in buried citadels, countless figures now knew one truth:
The dragon had awakened.
And it was only a matter of time before the world burned or bowed.