The Immortal Gathering's final stage unfolded in a vast, natural stone amphitheater that seemed carved by divine hands. The air hummed with restrained spiritual pressure, most of it emanating from the woman floating at the center on a disc of shimmering frost—Grandmaster Lan Shui of the Masked Luan Sect. Her blue jade mask and early Core Formation aura cast a silent, chilling dignity over the proceedings.
Before her stood the Spirit Root Crystal. The final test.
"Yan Kingdom, first cohort!" a Foundation Establishment elder boomed.
The parade of destiny began.
Li Jie, a boy from a Yan mining family, touched the crystal. A dim, steadfast brown light glowed within. "Earth Attribute, Low-Grade True Root. Pass." He exhaled in relief, directed toward the area for successful aspirants.
Next was Kai Feng, his hands calloused from a blacksmith's hammer. His touch ignited a vibrant, roaring crimson column. "Fire Attribute, High-Grade True Root! The Vermilion Forge Sect claims this disciple!" He grinned, striding toward the platform where masters with arms of corded muscle nodded.
Then came Su Lin. The noble daughter of the Yan capital moved with poised grace, her pale robes like still water. Her delicate hand met the quartz.
The Crystal didn't just glow—it sang. A deep, mesmerizing aquamarine light flowed within it, pure and potent. A murmur of appreciation swept the stands.
"Water Attribute,Pinnacle-Grade True Spirit Root! An elite talent!" The elder's voice held genuine respect.
On her frost disc, Grandmaster Lan Shui's gaze settled on Su Lin. A slight, approving nod. Su Lin bowed deeply, her composure flawless, and was directed to the elite waiting area by a silver-masked Luan disciple.
Han Ming stepped up nervously. Her touch produced not a color, but a swirling, tawny amber light that formed shapes of claws and wings within the stone. The elder conferred with a man in a feathered cloak from the Whispering Beast Sanctuary. "Beast Affinity Spirit Root, Feral Variant. Approved." Han Ming, looking both awed and relieved, joined the Sanctuary's group.
The tests continued. Wen Zhi from a scholar family produced a sharp white light threaded with blue. "Metal-Water Dual, High-Grade. The Soaring Sword Sect." He adjusted his robes, proud.
Chen Li, a quiet girl, sparked a gentle green intertwined with brown. "Wood-Earth Dual, Mid-Grade. The Verdant Maple Valley welcomes you."
"Xu Kingdom cohort!"
Among them stood Han Li, distinguished only by his headwear. The Shadow-Weaver's Veil was a masterpiece of subtle artifice—a wide-brimmed black hat from which hung a darkness that no gaze, spiritual or mortal, could penetrate. It rendered him a faceless silhouette, which was precisely his goal.
He watched as others from his group were tested and sorted. Then his turn came.
He placed his palm on the Crystal. He felt its probe, like cold fingers reaching for his dantian. He didn't resist. Instead, as the senior had taught him, he guided the interaction. From his vast Tier 9 spiritual energy, he carefully funneled three distinct streams into the Crystal, not letting it pull anything out.
The Crystal flared to life.
A vigorousforest-green light rose first. Before it peaked, a sharp, unwavering metal-white radiance joined it. Then, a steady, grounding earth-brown glow woven through them both. Three lights, distinct yet balanced, swirling in a stable display within the quartz.
"Triple Attribute Spirit Root: Wood, Metal, Earth. All True Grade. Pass."
Han Li withdrew his hand and melted back into the line. The shadowy veil gave away nothing—no pride, no nerves, no face.
With the tests complete, the choosing began. It was brisk, almost impersonal. Su Lin formally pledged to the Masked Luan Sect and was accepted with a wordless gesture. Han Ming was welcomed into the Beast Sanctuary. Kai Feng to the Forge, Wen Zhi to the Sword, Chen Li to the Valley.
The veiled cultivator with the triple root was the last unattached aspirant.
Without fanfare, Han Li simply turned and took three steps toward the Masked Luan Sect platform, then bowed shallowly in its direction.
On the platform, the senior Luan elder observed him. She did not ask why. In the cultivation world, eccentric choices were common and rarely questioned; everyone was too focused on their own path. She glanced up at the central dais.
Grandmaster Lan Shui's eyes, like chips of glacial ice, passed over the veiled figure. Her expression remained utterly unmoved. After a moment, she gave a single, slight nod—neither approval nor disapproval, mere administrative consent.
The Luan elder spoke, her voice echoing clearly. "Accepted. Disciple Han. Join the platform."
That was it. No debates. No competing offers from other sects. No warnings about difficult futures. His choice was noted and filed away.
Han Li walked to the Luan Sect platform, standing apart from the small cluster of new female disciples. Su Lin glanced at the strange, veiled man who shared her new sect, her beautiful eyes briefly curious before she looked away, her mind already on her own bright future.
A deep, resonant chime sounded, marking the Gathering's end. As if activated by the sound, the very mountain around the arena stirred. Vast doors of polished blue stone, twice the height of ancient trees, slid open in the cliff face. Towers of ice and carved rock, not wood or brick, were revealed—a fortress monastery of breathtaking scale. Bridges of solidified light connected peaks. It was a realm of awe-inspiring, silent power.
One by one, the sects departed. The Soaring Sword Sect's disciples mounted a giant, ghostly sword that shot into the clouds. The Verdant Maple Valley group stepped into a swirling vortex of leaves. The Whispering Beast Sanctuary left on the backs of giant, summoned spirit owls.
The Masked Luan Sect's transport was a sweeping, silent barge carved from a single piece of blue-white glacial ice. It descended before their platform.
As Han Li boarded behind the others, he felt the weight of the Drifting Mist Valley token and the cool, constant pulse of the time-acceleration jade against his chest.
The others saw a triple-root cultivator hiding behind a veil, making an inscrutable choice.
But Han Li saw with perfect clarity. He had gained entry to an immense repository of knowledge. He had secured a place in a powerful sect that would, due to his apparent incompatible affinities, leave him entirely to his own devices. He had achieved the perfect conditions for anonymity and growth.
The ice barge rose, leaving the stone arena and the mortal world of choices behind. As it soared toward the distant, glittering spires of the Masked Luan Sect, Han Li knew the true work was finally beginning. Unseen, unknown, and unbothered, he could start to forge his own path.