The trial grounds lay in ruins.
The once-proud walls were fractured, the air still thick with the scent of scorched qi and pulverized stone. Students whispered among themselves, pale and trembling, each glance stolen at Kael—who now rested in the inner chambers—was filled with fear and awe.
But the elders and masters knew there could be no delay. A meeting was called immediately in the Grand Hall. The atmosphere was heavy, every elder seated, their expressions grim.
At the head of the assembly sat the Academy Master, Arathor, his gaze calm but his aura faintly trembling—a rare sign that even he had been shaken. Beside him stood Vice Master Sylara, her blade-like presence sharp, her eyes filled with unspoken questions.
"Academy Master," one elder finally dared to ask, voice low. "What… what was that power? That golden light? That book?"
All eyes turned to Arathor.
---
The Revelation
Arathor closed his eyes for a long moment before answering. His voice carried like a steady tide, each word weighing upon the listeners like the judgment of heaven.
"What you saw," he said, "was no ordinary treasure. No ancient relic. No divine martial art. It was the Immortal Book."
The words alone made several elders stiffen. A few inhaled sharply, as though their very souls had frozen.
"The Immortal Book…?" someone whispered.
"Yes." Arathor's eyes opened, gleaming faintly. "According to the oldest legends, before the stars were born, before heaven and earth themselves took form, there existed a force beyond comprehension. A seed of reality. Some called it the First Will, others called it the Eternal Law. But among mortals and immortals alike, it was remembered only as a book—for it records all that is, and all that shall be."
He paused, letting the silence grow heavy.
"It is said that the Immortal Book can do what even gods cannot. It can rewrite the cells of the body, turning mortal flesh into divine vessels. It can rewrite talent, raising the lowliest of worms to the heights of godhood. It can even rewrite reality itself, changing the flow of the stars, bending the rules of existence. This is why it is coveted by all beings, mortal or divine."
The hall was utterly silent.
"But in all of history," Arathor continued, "the Immortal Book has never chosen anyone. It has appeared, vanished, whispered of in the ruins of ancient eras… but never did it awaken. Until now."
---
The Chosen
Sylara's eyes flickered toward the chamber where Kael lay unconscious. "And it… chose him."
Arathor's lips pressed thin. "Yes. The Immortal Book has acknowledged Kael. And that… is both a blessing and a curse."
A curse? The elders stirred uneasily.
Arathor's tone deepened. "You saw it yourselves. For one instant, Kael ascended beyond Tier Two. Beyond even Tier One. He touched a realm that shakes the very foundation of existence. With one finger, he erased an intruder who outclassed every student, every elder, with ease. With one careless strike, he scarred the land for a thousand kilometers. And he did this unconsciously."
Several elders broke into cold sweat. The image of the golden beam cutting through land and sky replayed in their minds.
"If this truth spreads," Arathor said, "do you know what will happen?"
He leaned forward, his aura pressing upon them all. "The gods themselves will descend. They will tear this world apart to seize the Book. Armies of immortals will drown us. Every student, every clan, every continent will burn."
---
The Oath of Silence
An elder stammered, "T-then… what must we do, Academy Master?"
Arathor's gaze hardened. "We bury it. From this day forth, none of what happened leaves this hall."
"But the students…"
"I will erase their memories," Arathor said coldly. "Every elder, every instructor, every student who witnessed this will forget. Even you—" His gaze swept the hall. "—must lose the memory of today. If the truth leaks, even a whisper, the Book will draw the gods like moths to flame."
The elders trembled.
"Then who will remember?" Sylara asked quietly.
Arathor turned toward her. His eyes softened slightly, though his voice remained firm. "You. And only you."
"Me?"
"You saw it yourself. Kael listens to you. He respects your guidance. You will walk beside him, teach him, temper him. You will be his compass when the Immortal Book threatens to consume him. Because make no mistake—this power will test him. If he falters, it will destroy him."
Sylara's fingers curled into fists. She nodded once. "I understand."
---
A Master's Burden
One elder asked, voice trembling, "Academy Master… will you also erase your memory?"
Arathor's eyes darkened. He looked at the ruined hall, the faint golden scar on the horizon beyond, and finally nodded.
"Yes."
Gasps rippled through the chamber.
"If I retain the knowledge, I may one day become the very weakness that destroys him. Desire grows even in the strongest of hearts. I am not immune. For his sake—for the world's sake—I will erase my own memory of this truth."
Sylara's breath caught. To willingly surrender memory was no small thing. It was an act of sacrifice few could bear.
Arathor turned to her again. "Sylara. When I forget, you must be the one to remember. Guide him, watch over him. Do not let him stray. Do not let him be devoured by the weight of this power."
Her jaw tightened. "I swear it."
---
Rebuilding
Arathor exhaled slowly, the faintest trace of weariness in his aura. "Then it is decided. Call upon the craftsmen and array masters. The trial grounds must be repaired within days. To the students, it will be explained that the intruder destroyed part of the maze before being slain. Nothing more."
"Yes, Master," the elders said in unison.
"And Kael?"
Sylara's eyes softened. "He cultivates still. His body burns hot and cold, the Immortal Book reforging his flesh. He will wake soon."
"Good." Arathor rose, his robes flowing like the tide. His eyes swept across the hall one final time. "Then prepare yourselves. From this day forth, the true battle begins. The Shadow Clan was but the beginning. Now… the gods may turn their gaze toward us."
The hall fell silent. Every elder felt the same chill creep into their bones.
And in the chamber beyond, Kael's unconscious form glowed faintly, as if the Book still whispered in his blood.