The long road back to the Azure Spirit Sect was paved not with triumph, but with silence.
The surviving disciples trudged through the ashen forest, their robes torn, their faces gray with soot and exhaustion. The stench of blood lingered. Behind them, the Borderlands still burned faintly — smoldering wounds across the earth that refused to heal.
Lin Xuan walked at the front, spear slung casually over one shoulder, his expression calm. His circle followed behind him: Chen Yu quiet and watchful, Li Mei walking with her sword drawn out of habit, and Wu Ming mumbling under his breath about the unfairness of life.
"Senior Brother," Wu Ming said, voice hoarse, "we've killed enough beasts to feed the entire sect's kitchens for a month. I don't suppose that earns us a day off?"
Li Mei flicked ash off her blade. "You didn't feed them, you screamed at them."
"Motivational screaming," Wu Ming countered weakly. "There's a difference."
Chen Yu cracked the faintest smile, the first in days. "If the sect gave rewards for noise, you'd already be an elder."
Lin Xuan didn't turn around. "Save your breath. We'll need it soon."
Wu Ming groaned. "You mean when we walk into the Hall of Elders and they ask why half the trial disciples are dead?"
"Exactly."
The further they traveled, the more the whispers grew.
Disciples who once mocked Lin Xuan now kept their distance, whispering his name with uncertainty. Some looked at him as though he were a monster. Others, with reluctant respect.
"I heard he summoned that firestorm himself.""His spear tore the Ashflame Lion apart.""No one saw him cultivate that kind of power before. How did he—?""Maybe he's not human at all."
Rumors crawled faster than their feet.
Zhou Ren, bandaged and pale, rode at the rear of the column. His eyes burned with quiet hatred. Every time a disciple muttered Lin Xuan's name, his jaw clenched until blood welled at his lip.
He had planned for Lin Xuan's death. Instead, Lin Xuan had walked out alive—and praised.
Now Zhou Ren's laughter came brittle. "Enjoy your moment, cripple. The higher you climb, the better the fall."
By sunset, the gates of the Azure Spirit Sect loomed ahead. The disciples straightened their backs instinctively, exhaustion masked under forced dignity.
The great mountain steps shimmered with faint runes, and the familiar scent of spirit herbs wafted through the air. But to Lin Xuan, it no longer felt like home—it felt like a battlefield of a different kind.
Elder Ji stood waiting at the gate with a contingent of stewards. His gaze swept over the battered column—counting, measuring, judging.
"You have returned," he said simply. "Half."
The word fell like stone into silence.
A trembling disciple began, "E-Elder Ji, the beasts—"
Elder Ji raised a hand. The disciple fell silent.
"Save your explanations for the Hall," Ji said. "The sect will hear them all."
His gaze lingered briefly—too briefly—on Lin Xuan before turning away.
The news spread like wildfire.
Before night fell, the entire Outer Sect buzzed.The cripple had returned.He had slain an Ashflame Lion.He had wielded flame and wind together.And Yue Shuang—the goddess of frost—had saved him.
By dawn, disciples gathered outside the main courtyards, whispering behind their hands.
Some with awe.Some with envy.All with curiosity.
Lin Xuan ignored them. He walked calmly through the stares, spear across his back, his robes plain. Wu Ming walked behind him, looking around nervously.
"Senior Brother, they're staring like we're rare beasts on display."
"They're just deciding what kind of beast," Lin Xuan replied.
Li Mei said flatly, "If any of them ask stupid questions, I'll answer with my sword."
"Good," Lin Xuan said softly. "Make it a clean answer."
The Hall of Reckoning was vast and cold, the air thick with incense and judgment. Three elders sat upon the dais: Elder Ji, the hawk-eyed elder, and the silver-haired elder whose staff rested lightly beside her.
Rows of surviving disciples knelt, heads bowed. Zhou Ren was among them, eyes gleaming with poisonous anticipation.
Elder Ji's voice filled the hall. "The Borderlands Trial was meant to temper. Instead, it devoured. You will all speak."
Disciples began recounting events, stumbling through fear and exhaustion. The hawk-eyed elder listened with growing irritation, cutting off those who faltered.
When Zhou Ren's turn came, his tone turned smooth as oil.
"Elders, we fought bravely. But the beasts grew mad… their numbers unnatural. And amidst the chaos, Lin Xuan—" he paused, lowering his eyes— "summoned a storm of flame. It… devoured everything. Friend and foe alike. Even beasts fled him."
Gasps rippled through the hall.
Lin Xuan did not move.
Elder Ji's gaze flicked toward him. "Lin Xuan. Speak."
He rose slowly, bowing with perfect calm. "Zhou Ren's account is half-right. There was a storm. But not summoned. Forged."
Murmurs stirred.
He continued, voice steady. "The beasts gathered unnaturally—driven by a rune planted before we arrived. I fought to protect those who stood. The flame answered the wind because both were already there."
"You claim," the hawk-eyed elder interrupted, "that you created a fusion technique at Qi Refining level?"
Lin Xuan met his gaze. "No, Elder. I survived with one."
The words hung heavy. Even the silver-haired elder smiled faintly.
After long silence, Elder Ji spoke.
"Lin Xuan, disciple of the Outer Sect. Your performance in the Borderlands was… unconventional. The sect does not encourage chaos, but neither does it punish survival."
He turned to the hall. "You will not spread false rumors. The matter is closed."
Zhou Ren's nails bit into his palms, drawing blood.
The hawk-eyed elder, however, leaned forward. "Closed? You would let him walk untested after creating something unseen in centuries?"
Elder Ji's gaze remained steady. "You wish to test him again?"
"Of course," the elder sneered. "Let the sect see what kind of storm this cripple truly commands."
The silver-haired elder's staff tapped lightly. "Then test him by the sect's own measure. Monthly evaluation begins soon. Let him stand with the rest."
"Agreed," said Elder Ji.
When they emerged, the mountain air was crisp. The whispers began immediately.
"He spoke to the elders like equals…""They're testing him again?""Maybe he's truly—"
Lin Xuan ignored them. Wu Ming, however, was fuming. "That snake Zhou Ren nearly twisted the whole story!"
Li Mei's eyes flashed. "He's not done. That was just the first strike."
Chen Yu nodded grimly. "And the next one will come with a smile."
Lin Xuan stopped walking. The others halted behind him.
"Then we'll be ready," he said simply. "We survived beasts. We can survive words."
That night, the sect was restless.
Elders whispered in their chambers. Disciples gossiped in courtyards. Some worshipped the name Lin Xuan; others sharpened their knives beneath their robes.
Above them all, Yue Shuang stood in her moonlit courtyard, eyes closed, a faint frost forming at her feet.
"So," she murmured, "they've already set him in the storm."
Her gaze lifted toward the mountains, where a faint ember still glowed—the last light of the Firestorm Spear.
"And he still burns."
In the upper hall, the silver-haired elder poured herself tea. "He is like a spark," she said softly. "Small. But placed in dry fields."
Elder Ji closed his eyes. "Then perhaps the sect will learn what it feels like to burn again."
The moon rose high. The mountain slept uneasily.
In the quiet of his humble courtyard, Lin Xuan sat cross-legged, eyes closed, the Omni-Talent System flickering faintly before him.
[System Log: Recognition threshold achieved.][Status: Observation tier raised. New permissions unlocked.][Hint: Hidden mission detected – "Survive the Eyes of Heaven."]
He opened his eyes slowly. The wind stirred.
"Observation, testing, suppression… all the same."His lips curved faintly."Let them watch."