After finishing their meal at the small, cozy canteen, Zhen and the others stepped out into the cool embrace of the evening air. The warmth of their laughter lingered, but their feet gradually slowed as they entered a wide, open courtyard bathed in golden twilight.
Towering ahead stood six enormous statues, each carved from gleaming stone and posed as though ready to step into battle. The setting sun cast dramatic shadows over their noble faces, further magnifying the overwhelming aura they radiated.
"Woah..." Lei Wei whispered in awe. "I feel such a majestic, heroic, and powerful aura from these six statues."
The others nodded, almost instinctively. A hush fell over the group as they stood before the legendary figures.
These weren't just statues — they were the immortalized forms of the greatest team the continent had ever known: Darkness Light.
Each figure exuded grandeur, but Zhen's eyes were drawn to two statues in particular. Both had powerful dragon wings spread behind them, shining scales etched along their arms and torsos, and claws that looked ready to pierce through steel. One was male, the other female. Their features were distinct, but something about them stirred a strange familiarity deep within him — as though he had seen them in a dream, or perhaps... known them in another life.
Zhen stared a little longer than the others, the pull in his chest impossible to ignore.
"Come on, guys," Shi Feng said, breaking the silence. "We need to get back to our dorms before it gets dark."
Everyone nodded, casting one last look at the statues before heading back.
Girls Dorm, Room 15
Naer, Bing Queer, and Yu Xiatao had changed into their comfortable night clothes and were sitting together, chatting under the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through their window.
Bing Queer stretched and said, "I heard... among the six members of Darkness Light, two of them were dragon bond masters."
"Really?" Naer asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
Queer nodded. "Yup. My mom told me. She also said that after Rank 59, it becomes really difficult to rank up."
"Yeah," Xiatao added. "Head teacher Guan Fang mentioned that too in class. From Rank 60 to 90, a bond master has to endure a heavenly tribulation every ten ranks."
Naer and Queer both nodded with solemn expressions.
Then, Queer leaned in, her voice playful. "Naer, how did you and Zhen meet for the first time?"
Xiatao's eyes lit up. "Yes, tell us, Naer!"
Naer blushed slightly. "Are you sure you want to know?"
The girls nodded enthusiastically.
Naer smiled warmly and placed both hands over her chest, as if holding a memory close to her heart. "Me and Zhen are from a very small village—so small that most maps don't even bother to show it. It's quiet, tucked between two hills and surrounded by orchards. My family runs a humble fruit shop there, and we've been doing that for generations."
Her voice softened. "But growing up... it was lonely. I couldn't make friends easily. My silver hair and purple eyes scared the other children. Some whispered behind my back. Others would stare like I was something unnatural. I still remember how some even threw stones at our shop window, thinking it was cursed because of me."
Naer's smile dimmed for a moment, tinged with sadness. "I thought I'd always be an outsider — someone to be feared or pitied. I got used to sitting alone, reading or watching the other kids play from afar. I used to ask my parents if there was something wrong with me. But they always told me I was special, even if no one else could see it."
She looked down at her hands and whispered, "Back then, I truly believed I would never have a real friend. That I'd grow up alone, like some ghost girl in a quiet village no one remembered."
She paused, her smile becoming warmer as a tender light lit her eyes. "Then one day, my parents took me to visit their old friends — and their son. I thought he'd be just like the others, someone who would either avoid me or stare too long. I braced myself for the usual disappointment. But then I saw him. A boy with golden eyes that glimmered like sunlight and black hair that seemed to dance with the breeze. He didn't hesitate or look uncertain. He didn't flinch or ask awkward questions. He just walked straight up to me, calm and confident, with the kind of energy that felt both kind and powerful. He extended his hand, smiled, and said, 'Hi, my name is Lan Zhen. What's yours?'"
Naer let out a small laugh. "I was so happy that day."
"Woww, that's so sweet," Xiatao said dreamily.
Queer, however, was pouting, her arms crossed and cheeks puffed with visible annoyance. "Seriously, how can someone be scared of you just because of your hair and eyes? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard! What's so scary about silver hair? Or purple eyes? If anything, they're beautiful and unique!" Her voice rose in outrage as she waved her hands in exasperation. "And those people who made fun of you — ugh! I wish I could go back in time and give them a piece of my mind. Maybe even trip them into a puddle or two. How dare they treat you like that? You're the nicest person ever, Naer! If they couldn't see that, then they're the ones with the problem!"
Naer chuckled and patted Queer's head. "It's okay, Queer."
Just then, a memory flickered in her mind — a soft, glowing flashback.
"Zhen, did you never feel scared because of my hair and eyes?" she had asked once, her voice quiet and hesitant, barely above a whisper. Her gaze had been fixed on the ground, unsure of what answer she would receive. She remembered how her fingers had nervously fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, and how her heart had thudded like a drum in her chest, bracing for disappointment — or worse, pity. It was a question wrapped in years of insecurity and silence, finally spoken aloud.
Zhen had smiled, his golden eyes warm and unwavering as he gently brushed a strand of silver hair away from her face. "They're beautiful, Naer," he said softly, his voice carrying a sincerity so deep it made her heart skip a beat. "Like moonlight on still water — rare, radiant, and unforgettable."
The memory faded, and Naer was left smiling to herself.
"Naer! You just thought about Zhen, didn't you?" Queer teased.
"N-no, it's not like that!" Naer stammered, her face turning red.
"Come on, tell us!" Xiatao grinned.
But Naer quickly changed the subject. "Let's go to sleep or we'll be late tomorrow."
Late Night – Training Field
The moon hung high as Zhen collapsed onto the grass, panting after his second lap around the vast field. His shirt clung to his skin, and sweat glistened on his forehead.
"Master," he groaned, "I'm still not used to this running."
Long Yi stood nearby, arms folded like a shadow of the night. Her expression was calm, but her eyes missed nothing.
"You'll get used to it in a few days. When you do, I'll add something new to your training."
Zhen gave a tired nod.
"So," she asked, "your class had a strength test today, right? How did it go?"
Zhen perked up slightly. "I hit the wall, and the result was... 500 kg."
Long Yi's eyes widened just a bit. "Good. Not bad at all."
Zhen hesitated, then said, "Master, I saw the six statues in the academy courtyard. Our head teacher said they were the Holy Kings, and their team was called Darkness Light."
Long Yi replied calmly, "Yes. What about them?"
"When did they form their team?" he asked.
Long Yi looked at him for a moment before answering. "They formed it when all six were Holy Masters."
Zhen blinked. "Just when they were above Rank 30?"
"Yes," she confirmed with a calm, knowing look. Then she knelt down beside him, placing a firm yet warm hand on his shoulder. Her voice softened, but carried the weight of lived wisdom. "Zhen, listen carefully. A real team isn't formed through power, glory, or ambition. It's not about rank or skill. A true team is born from trust — forged through loyalty, hardship, laughter, and the willingness to bleed together when the world turns dark. True comrades become more than allies; they become your chosen family. Those bonds... they don't break with time. They deepen. They carry you through the worst storms, and they make your victories shine brighter. Remember this, Zhen. The strongest team isn't always the one with the greatest power — it's the one that refuses to fall apart. Those bonds last for eternity."
Zhen nodded, his expression serious. "I understand, Master."
He paused, then asked, "Master... is there a blacksmith class in the academy?"
Long Yi raised a brow. "There's no class, but there is a Blacksmith Hall. Why? You want to learn forging too?"
Zhen smiled softly. "Yes. I used to learn forging from my father in our village. I love the sound of metal... and I love creating things."
Long Yi was caught off-guard. A single word echoed in her mind: Creation.
She whispered to herself, her gaze lingering on Zhen, "The only attribute with the power of true creation... is pure light."
The words trembled in the air like a prophecy spoken too soon, reverberating in her mind as if the very winds of destiny had stirred. For years, Long Yi had studied countless attributes and elements — flame, shadow, storm, void — each powerful in its own right. But none held the sacred potential of pure light. That ancient, sacred energy wasn't just a force; it was the origin, the spark that ignited beginnings, the foundation of worlds.
She narrowed her eyes, recalling lost scriptures and forbidden scrolls that mentioned it in reverent fear. "To create without limit... to forge not just metal, but meaning itself... that is the privilege of light untainted."
As she looked again at the boy before her, drenched in sweat but with unwavering eyes, she felt something stir — not just pride, but wonder. "Could he really...?"
And with that thought, she looked at Zhen — not just as a disciple.
But as a possible anomaly.
A miracle yet to awaken.
A future beyond the bounds of fate.