The ancient voice's final word, 'worth,' echoed and then faded, and the infinite white space of the trial ground began to transform. The smooth, featureless crystalline floor rippled like water, and from it, a grand, circular arena rose. It was a perfect circle a thousand meters in diameter, its floor made of a dark, slate-grey stone that seemed to absorb the ambient silver light. Around its perimeter, colossal, ghostly statues of ancient, multi-armed Asura warriors faded into existence, their stone eyes seeming to watch with a cold, impartial judgment.
Li Yu's eyes were wide with excitement. He had never seen anything like it. The world was literally reshaping itself based on the will of a long-dead expert. "This is incredible!" he whispered to himself, a wide, genuine grin spreading across his face.
Mo Ling, on the other hand, felt a surge of grim determination. Her body still ached from the pressure trial, but her spirit was a raging inferno. She drew her longsword, its demonic steel humming in anticipation. This was her element. A trial of combat was a trial she was born to win.
"The rules are simple," the ancient voice declared, its tone implacable. "Ten stages. Ten opponents. Each more powerful than the last. To pass, you must defeat the guardian of the fifth stage. The child of the bloodline shall go first."
Mo Ling took a deep breath, centering herself. She gave Li Yu a final, challenging glare, then strode confidently to the center of the dark stone arena.
The moment she reached the center, a swirl of silvery light coalesced before her. The light solidified, forming a warrior. It was a perfect, life-like construct, clad in simple leather armor and wielding a crude stone axe. Its eyes were empty, devoid of life, but its aura was solid and real—that of a 3rd-level Foundation Establishment cultivator.
"Stage One. Begin."
The stone axe warrior charged, its movements simple but powerful. Mo Ling met it with a sneer. She didn't even use a technique. She simply sidestepped its clumsy swing and, with a single, contemptuous slash of her longsword, cut the construct in half. It dissolved into motes of silver light before it even hit the ground.
A moment later, two more constructs formed. They were better equipped, with iron swords and shields, and their auras were at the 4th level. This was Stage Two.
Mo Ling's expression grew serious. She let out a low snarl, and her martial spirit, the fierce, four-armed demoness, appeared behind her. She engaged the two warriors, her blade a blur of demonic energy, while her spirit's extra arms provided a perfect, multi-directional defense and offense. The fight was more challenging, but she was a prodigy of a demonic clan. After a dozen exchanges, she found an opening, her sword piercing one warrior's heart while her spirit's phantom blade decapitated the other.
Stage Three brought a single, far more powerful opponent: a 5th-level Foundation Establishment knight in full plate armor, wielding a massive greatsword. This was a true challenge.
"Asura Battle Form!" Mo Ling roared. The blood-red markings flared to life on her skin. The battle was a brutal, head-on collision of power. The knight was a fortress of steel, its greatsword swings carrying immense weight. Mo Ling was a whirlwind of demonic fury, her speed and ferocity a terrifying sight.
She took several heavy blows that would have crippled a lesser cultivator, but her demonic physique and sheer willpower allowed her to fight through the pain. Finally, after a long and grueling exchange that left her panting and bleeding from a cut on her arm, she managed to disarm the knight and plunge her sword through its visor.
Watching this Li Yu was once again confirming that he really didn't have a great sense for combat, at least not compared to geniuses and prodigies. If he were in her shoes with the exact same kind of power and technique, his mind couldn't do what she was able to do. Clearly this wasn't his path or style so he didn't feel too jealous or envious of such skill.
It sounded obvious but his style was based on being much stronger than his opponent in cultivation, power and everything else if at all possible. It sounded silly, well of course being more powerful than your opponent is a winning style but don't underestimate the skill involved.. Some were great at fighting at their same level, some in desperate struggles. How many great villains or heroes have fallen over time due to not being able to utilize their power to take down a weaker foe? Countless. It takes a certain different set of skills to utilize your strengths effectively leaving no room for others to defend against.
She was breathing heavily, her energy already half-depleted. But she had passed three stages.
Stage Four was a nightmare. A trio of silent, robed assassins, each at the 5th level, materialized from the shadows at the arena's edge. They moved with a silent, deadly coordination, their poisoned daggers a constant, lethal threat.
This was a battle Mo Ling was not used to. It was not about power, but about subterfuge and teamwork. She was wounded again and again, shallow cuts that bled black, poisoned blood. She was forced to abandon all offense, her four-armed spirit becoming a desperate, spinning shield as she tried to fend off the relentless, coordinated attacks.
Seeing no other choice, she let out a furious roar and unleashed her clan's signature technique. "Asuran Cataclysm!" She poured the last of her reserves into her sword, unleashing a wave of pure, chaotic demonic energy that blasted the entire arena. The three assassins were caught in the blast, their forms torn apart and dissolved.
But the victory was a costly one. Mo Ling collapsed to one knee, her body riddled with wounds, the poison already beginning to slow her movements. She had won, but she was spent.
And then, the guardian of the fifth stage appeared.
It was a hulking, brutish creature, a construct in the shape of a demonic berserker. It was three meters tall, its skin the color of old blood, and it wielded two massive, spiked clubs. Its aura was at the 6th level of the Foundation Establishment realm, the same as her own, but it was fresh, powerful, and radiating an aura of pure, mindless violence.
'This… this is the end,' a small, desperate part of her mind whispered. She was wounded, poisoned, and her spiritual energy was almost completely gone.
But then she looked over and saw Li Yu, watching her from the edge of the arena. His expression was not one of pity, but of calm, quiet observation. He was not judging her. He was simply… watching. And in that moment, her pride, the fierce, unyielding pride of the Asura Demon Clan's heir, caught fire. She would not be defeated. She would not fail, especially not in front of him.
With a final, soul-shaking roar, she forced herself to her feet. She abandoned all thought of defense. She abandoned all technique. She poured the last dregs of her will, her life force, and her bloodline's ancient fury into her body and charged, her sword held high for a single, final, suicidal strike.
The berserker met her charge with a roar of its own, its twin clubs swinging down to crush her. But in her final, desperate gamble, she was a fraction of a second faster. Her sword, a streak of desperate, demonic light, plunged deep into the berserker's chest, a single, perfect strike that pierced its spiritual core.
The berserker's clubs stopped a hair's breadth from her head, its form freezing for a moment before dissolving into a shower of triumphant, silver light.
Mo Ling stood there, swaying, her sword the only thing holding her up. Then, a wave of gentle, warm energy washed over her, and the ancient voice spoke.
"The child of the bloodline has proven her will. You have passed. Rest now."
Mo Ling finally allowed herself to collapse, a weary but fiercely proud smile on her face as she was enveloped in a cocoon of healing light.
Li Yu smiled. "She did well." He then turned, his own eyes gleaming with a boyish, eager excitement, and strode to the center of the arena. "Alright! My turn!"
The moment he entered the circle, the stone axe warrior materialized. With a flick of his wrist, Li Yu's staff of Condensed Sea Iron Ore appeared in his hand, its dark, heavy form a stark contrast to the silver light. The construct charged.
Li Yu met the clumsy swing not with a block, but with a simple, fluid rotation of his staff. The heavy iron ore weapon tapped the stone axe, instantly shattering it, and continued its spin to gently tap the construct's temple. The warrior dissolved.
Stage Two. Two iron-clad warriors appeared. They charged from opposite sides. Li Yu spun his staff in a low, graceful arc. The end of the staff struck the first warrior behind the knee, shattering its form. Without pausing, he continued the spin, bringing the other end of the staff up to tap the second warrior under the chin. It, too, dissolved. The entire sequence was one smooth, unbroken motion.
Stage Three. The greatsword knight. It raised its massive blade for a powerful overhead chop. Li Yu simply held his staff vertically and met the blow. The greatsword, a high-quality spiritual construct, shattered like glass against the impossibly dense Sea Iron Ore. The shockwave of the impact was enough to dissolve the knight.
Stage Four. The three assassins. They materialized from the shadows, lunging with their poisoned daggers. Li Yu didn't even turn. He simply stomped the butt of his staff on the ground. A single, silent ring of abyss-black energy expanded outwards, passing through the three assassins and causing them to dissolve instantly.
Stage Five. The demonic berserker. It roared, raising its clubs. Li Yu simply walked towards it. As the clubs descended, he met them with a single, upward thrust of his staff. The two massive, spiked clubs shattered on impact, and the berserker itself was sent stumbling backward, its spiritual core broken from the feedback. It dissolved.
Li Yu stood in the center of the arena, not a single hair out of place, a look of mild disappointment on his face. "So this is what a trial is. It didn't seem that hard." It wasn't hard, he was forgetting that his level of strength and cultivation was well beyond what this realm was supposed to be. He was too caught up in the moment of being a part of this event that he wasn't thinking it through.
"Stage Six," the ancient voice intoned, a hint of something that might have been surprise in its monotone delivery.
A new opponent formed. It was a warrior clad in flawless, enchanted armor, wielding a spear that crackled with lightning. Its aura was at the 7th level of the Foundation Establishment. It lunged, its spear a bolt of pure lightning. Li Yu, with a simple, parry of his staff, shattered the spear and the construct along with it.
Stage Seven. An 8th-level, dual-wielding sword master. It was a blur of motion, a vortex of steel. Li Yu simply stood his ground, his staff a blur of its own, and with a single, precise thump, he struck the ground. A shockwave of pure, condensed power erupted, and the sword master dissolved.
Stage Eight. A 9th--level archer that fired arrows of pure, solidified light. The arrows were faster than sound, each one a fatal shot. Li Yu simply walked forward, his staff spinning in a circle, deflecting the arrows with a series of soft, musical pings before tapping the archer on the forehead, dissolving it.
Stage Nine. A pair of peak Foundation Establishment golems made of living rock. They were immune to most physical attacks, their power immense. Li Yu simply spun his staff once, and struck each golem in the chest. The impossibly dense abyssal energy in the blow didn't just break them; it unmade them, reducing them to fine grey dust.
Now, Li Yu was actually beginning to enjoy himself. This was fun. He looked up, a wide, expectant grin on his face. "Come on! What's next?" He was much stronger than everything here. It was a lion going against ants but the lion was having fun doing so.
The very air in the arena grew heavy. The silver light seemed to congeal, forming a figure that was different from all the others. It was tall and slender, its form woven from the pure, silvery light of the shattered moon itself. It wore the archaic, regal armor of an ancient Asura general, and it wielded a single, beautiful longsword that seemed to weep with a sorrowful, silver light.
Its eyes were not empty; they burned with a cold, ancient, and incredibly powerful battle intent. This was the guardian of the tenth and final stage, a perfect manifestation of the Asura ancestor's own martial will, suppressed to the absolute peak of the Foundation Establishment realm.
"Stage Ten. Defeat the Echo of the Moon-Shatterer."
The Echo charged. Its speed was beyond anything Li Yu had faced so far. Its sword was not just a weapon; it was a law, a concept of severing. It was a beautiful, deadly dance.
And Li Yu laughed, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy. He finally met his opponent with equal grace, his staff of black sea iron a perfect counterpoint to the silver sword. The arena became a blur of black and silver, a storm of impossible speed and perfect technique. For the first time, he was being challenged, not in power, but in pure, unadulterated skill.
They exchanged a thousand blows in the span of a few momets, their battle a work of deadly art. Li Yu was using this chance to refine his staff techniques. Finally, Li Yu saw his opening. The Echo's sword descended in a final, perfect arc. Li Yu did not block. He simply took a single, short, impossible Void Step, appearing inside the Echo's guard.
He did not strike with his staff. He simply tapped its chest with his open palm. The Echo of the Moon-Shatterer froze. A single, black crack appeared on its silver, light-woven chest. The crack spiderwebbed outwards, and with a soft, sorrowful sigh, the ultimate guardian dissolved into a final, brilliant shower of moonlight.
The trial was over.
"The second trial is complete," the ancient voice echoed, its tone now holding a new, profound, and undeniable note of awe. "The child of the bloodline, through will, has achieved victory. The outsider, through absolute power."