Fifteen years had passed since the chaos of the Rifitlands.
Now, standing at the gates of Aiden Hall, a youth of eighteen drew every eye. His figure was tall and lean, built with sharp lines that spoke of deadly grace. Long, dark hair cascaded down his back, framing a face both handsome and unyielding. His gray eyes glimmered with a depth that few could meet—calm like still water, yet holding within them the shadow of storms.
This youth was Azren.
For these years, he had not lived among the disciples of Aiden Hall. Instead, he resided in a vast villa belonging to Master Erdi, hidden from the world. Within its empty halls, away from curious eyes, Erdi personally trained him day after day. Yet not Erdi alone—for in secret, the Life Emperor Asthough herself had guided him. Not openly as a sovereign, but silently, shaping his control over the dark chaos Essentia that once threatened to devour him.
Now, before the towering gates, the whispers of countless cultivators filled the air. The news had spread—Erdi's hidden disciple would be joining the ranks of Aiden Hall.
Inside the villa, Erdi's voice echoed warmly. His aged eyes softened as he studied the young man before him.
"Azren… you've done it," Erdi said with rare pride. "To fully command the chaos within you… few in Arka could even dream of such control. You no longer bend under it—the chaos bends under you."
Azren gave a faint smile, his tone casual, almost careless. "I only did what you forced me to, old man."
Before Erdi could retort, the air trembled. A divine aura swept through the villa, golden and suffocating. Both master and disciple turned as the doors opened without a sound.
Clad in white, her very presence splitting reality, the Life Emperor Asthough entered.
Azren lowered his head respectfully. "Greetings, Your Majesty."
But then, his lips curved faintly, his tone shifting with boyish honesty. "Forgive me, but… I don't want to join any academy. I don't want to be an Emperor. All I want… is to enjoy my days in this villa. This is enough for me."
The words hung in the air like a defiance against fate.
For a moment, silence reigned. Then Asthough's gaze sharpened, her golden eyes piercing through him like spears of truth.
"You speak of comfort," she said coldly. "But beyond these walls, the outer world burns. Men slaughter each other for no reason but greed. Realms crumble under the arrogance of power. And you—" she stepped closer, her aura pressing down on him like a mountain—"you were born to stop this."
Azren's chest tightened, but he did not retreat.
Her voice dropped, stern and commanding. "Until the day comes when you can protect yourself from anyone, you must not reveal your true self. Not your dark powers. Not your spiritual root. Not the mark that binds you."
Her hand hovered faintly over his chest, and for the first time in years, Azren felt the stirring of something deep within him. His spiritual root, once dead and silent, now pulsed like an awakening beast. It was faint, incomplete—but alive.
Asthough's expression softened slightly. "Your root has awakened enough to begin cultivation. When it truly touches Essentia, you will step into the First Stage—Essentia Touch. That will be your beginning."
Her golden aura flared, filling the villa like dawn breaking over a battlefield. "But until then, Azren… you must walk unseen."
Azren's gray eyes flickered. For once, he was silent.
Azren exhaled softly as he stood at the gates of Aiden Hall once more, his sharp eyes glimmering with thought. The words of his great-grandmaster, the Life Emperor herself, echoed within his mind.
"Until you can protect yourself against anyone… you must walk unseen."
His gaze hardened. Yet behind that calm exterior, a faint smirk tugged at his lips—as if mocking the destiny forced upon him.
Before him stretched the legendary Aiden Hall, its walls carved from luminous white stone that shimmered under the sun. Towers rose like spears piercing the sky, and every tile and pillar radiated refined Essentia. Its gates were wide, flanked by statues of ancient heroes, their eyes burning as though alive. The aura of the place was enough to make even seasoned cultivators tremble.
Inside the vast square, hundreds of young disciples stood nervously. They were here to take the admission test—a test whose reputation was so terrifying that failure alone was said to cripple the path of one's cultivation forever. The air was thick with tension, breaths shallow, hearts racing.
But from a distance, all that fear seemed to vanish as Azren entered. His tall, lean figure, calm stride, and cold gray eyes drew stares instantly. Whispers rippled among the gathered candidates.
And then—suddenly—a shadow dropped from the sky.
A young man, no more than a few years older than Azren, descended gracefully through the air, his robes fluttering as if he owned the skies. The moment his aura spread out, countless disciples gasped.
"Th–that's… Spirit Convergence!" someone whispered, their voice shaking.
"He's younger than me, yet already Spirit Convergence?" another stammered, clutching his robes in despair.
As the crowd murmured, a bold voice rose. "He's Gray—the second most powerful disciple of Aiden Hall! Son of the Light Emperor himself!"
A collective gasp followed. Some eyes burned with admiration, others with envy, but all agreed—Gray was destined for greatness.
Gray landed before Azren, his expression casual, yet his aura pressing faintly like a silent warning. He tilted his head, studying the newcomer.
"You must be Azren," he said, a faint smile tugging his lips. "Aaya told me many things about you—that you're handsome, that you're the most outstanding one. But…" His eyes swept over Azren like a blade. "From your looks, it's okay. Your cultivation, however, is far too low."
Azren frowned slightly. His voice was calm, yet carried genuine confusion. "Who is… Aaya?"
Gray froze. His confident demeanor cracked as his balance wavered mid-air. "Wha—WHAT!?" he shouted, startling the candidates. "You don't even know Aaya!?"
He stomped a foot, his composure shattering. "She beats me all the time! And yet she says you're the only one who can surpass her! She's the top student of Aiden Hall!"
Behind him, his servant caught his shoulder quickly, steadying him with a bow. The servant's voice was sharp but respectful. "Young Master, forgive me—but Lady Aaya is not merely a student. She is… a beast."
The crowd erupted in whispers. Azren tilted his head, his expression baffled. Slowly, he shook his head and muttered with a half-smile, half-cry, "When I touch Essentia, I'll be the top student of Aiden Hall…"
The square fell silent for a moment—then laughter burst forth.
"Hahahaha! He hasn't even started cultivation, yet he dares to boast!?"
"Top student? Without even stepping into Essentia Touch?"
"Arrogance beyond the heavens!"
Azren ignored the laughter. Instead, he stepped closer to Gray, casually patting him on the shoulder. His gray eyes locked onto the young genius. "Tell me, then. What's the secret to touching Essentia? How do I enter the Essentia Touch stage?"
Gasps filled the air.
The servant of Gray immediately pulled Azren's hand away, his voice trembling with fear. "Don't… don't dare touch His Highness!"
Gray, however, only studied Azren with narrowed eyes. After a long pause, he finally smirked. "Since Aaya seems to value you, I won't dismiss you completely. Qualify for the test first. After that, I'll give you a hint."
His voice lowered, sharp as lightning. "To touch Essentia, your spiritual root must interact with it. Seek the same type of Essentia as your root. Only then will you begin cultivation."
With that, his body lifted lightly into the air. He cast one last glance at Azren, his eyes betraying a flicker of doubt. Is this truly the boy the Life Emperor entrusted her hopes to?
And in a flash of light, Gray was gone.
The crowd's murmurs rose again, but Azren only stood still, his fists clenched. His voice broke the air—raw, confused, almost comedic.
"WHO IS THIS AAYA!?"
The shout echoed across the square, leaving the entire crowd stunned… before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.
The vast square of Aiden Hall quieted as a figure in green robes stepped forward onto the high platform. His presence silenced the disciples instantly, his aura calm yet commanding.
"In this test," he declared, his voice echoing across the marble walls, "each of you will be granted a spirit tablet. These tablets will record the points of the beasts you slay. The higher the rank of the beast, the greater the points. With these points, you may later earn privileges within Aiden City—but for today, they will decide your future."
He raised a hand, and hundreds of faint-blue tablets materialized in the air before descending into the hands of each participant. As Azren caught his, the smooth crystal glowed faintly in his palm, his gray eyes reflecting its light.
A ripple of anticipation spread through the crowd. The announcer's words fell like hammers:
"Those who gather one thousand points will qualify. Less than that, and you will have no place in Aiden Hall."
Instantly, the gates behind him shimmered, and a colossal stone door materialized across from the main entrance of the Hall. The inscriptions carved upon it glowed with green light, spelling out the rules of the trial:
— One Thousand Points to Enter Aiden Hall —
The stone trembled, and with a grinding roar, the door swung open, revealing a vast forest shrouded in mist. Roars of beasts echoed from within, chilling spines and quickening pulses.
The green-robed announcer's voice rang once more.
"You have seven days. Within this time, slay as many beasts as you can, gather your points, and return. Remember—your every action is under the eyes of the Hall Masters. If you are in mortal danger, you will be saved. But know this—your performance will decide not only your acceptance… but your standing within the Hall."
Then, without another word, he dissolved into streaks of green light, vanishing into the sky.
The square erupted in murmurs. Some clenched their fists in determination, others trembled with fear.
Azren stared at the glowing blue tablet in his palm. His reflection shimmered faintly in its surface. Slowly, his lips curled into a half-smile.
"This tablet… my only hope is on this now."
As the crowd surged toward the great stone gate, excitement and dread mixing like a storm, Azren stepped forward, his calm stride carrying him into the mist.
The trial of beasts had begun.
The moment the colossal stone gate opened, the disciples surged forward. One by one, they stepped through and vanished into streaks of light—teleported to different corners of the massive Beast Trial Forest.
In the observation hall, high above the gates, dozens of robed masters stood before glowing mirrors that displayed the disciples' progress. Erdi's sharp eyes lingered on only one screen.
"Azren…" he muttered under his breath. His gaze hardened. Could he really be the fated one?
But a moment later, his expression faltered, and a sigh escaped his lips. "Haa… perhaps not."
---
On the forest floor, Azren appeared amidst a field of small creatures. Round, fluffy, with bright eyes, the little beasts hopped about like bouncing balls of fur.
Azren cracked his knuckles, his gray eyes sharpening. "Alright, let's get this over with."
He lunged forward recklessly, swinging at the tiny beasts with all the seriousness of a warrior.
But—
Poof! Poof!
The little creatures scattered instantly, their tiny wings carrying them away in a flurry of squeaks. Azren missed every strike, tripping over his own feet until—
Thud!
He tumbled straight into a pit.
In the observation hall, Erdi slapped a hand over his face. "Awww… he is definitely not the fated one."
---
At the bottom of the pit, Azren groaned, brushing dirt from his robes. "Haa… I can't use my dark Essentia. And these little things are too cute to kill anyway. Forget it, I'm leaving."
He dusted himself off and casually walked forward, muttering to himself, "Seven days is a long time. I'll just… sightsee."
He didn't realize his careless wandering was dragging him deeper into the forest—the territory where only high-ranked beasts roamed. A place where even disciples at Spirit Convergence would hesitate to tread.
Still oblivious, Azren stopped at a narrow valley. He sat down on a rock, frowning as he pulled out the faint-blue tablet.
"'Touch the same type of Essentia as your spiritual root,' huh? That's what that Gray guy said." He sighed. "But my root doesn't have any special characteristics… What does that even mean?"
As his thoughts drifted in frustration, a low rumble shook the ground.
BOOM.
From the shadows of the valley, a massive gorilla-like beast emerged, its eyes blood-red, its fists pounding against its chest like thunder.
Azren blinked. "...Ah. That's not cute."
The beast roared, shaking the valley, then lunged. Azren reacted on instinct, rolling aside—but the ground gave way beneath his feet.
CRACK!
He plummeted.
Down, down into the endless abyss of the valley, his figure vanishing into the dark depths where even light dared not follow.
Azren's body plummeted endlessly through the darkness. The roar of the wind echoed in his ears as his robes whipped wildly. His chest tightened, his breath ragged.
"Haa… is this… the end for meee?" His cry vanished into the abyss.
But as he fell, something stirred. The air grew thick—so dense with Essentia that it was almost suffocating. The energy pulsed strongly with the rhythm of wind, wrapping around his falling body like invisible chains.
Suddenly, a tug yanked at his very core. His consciousness blurred—then shifted.
---
He opened his eyes to find himself standing within a vast, endless sea of darkness. Chaotic Essentia floated like clouds across the void, and above him glimmered strange, silver stars that pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat.
"This… where am I?"
From the shadows, a figure emerged. A twisted soul, pale and broken, yet still exuding a terrifying aura. His laughter echoed thunderously.
"HAHAHA! Brat, you think you could die this easily? You've stolen the power of heavens—don't insult it by falling like a fool!"
Azren staggered back, his gray eyes narrowing. "Who—who are you!?"
The soul smirked, its hollow eyes glinting. "Tch, now isn't the time for introductions. Just know this—I'll be your guide for now. Don't tell anyone about me, unless you want the entire realm hunting you down."
Azren's fists clenched. "…Why are you helping me?"
The soul chuckled darkly. "Because you absorbed me, brat. My spiritual root of wind flows within you now. And right now, you're drowning in Essentia so dense it could crush your body. If you don't cultivate, you'll burst like an insect. So—sit down! Breathe! Take it all in!"
Azren hesitated, then dropped cross-legged. His voice was uncertain. "What do I even… do?"
The soul's expression twisted in rage. "Are you insane!? You don't know the basics!? Concentrate on your breathing, damn it! Draw in the Essentia, refine it—NOW!"
Azren gritted his teeth and obeyed. He closed his eyes, slowing his breath. The dense wind Essentia poured into him, rushing through his meridians like a raging river. His dragon seal pulsed in rhythm, stabilizing the torrent.
Moments later—CRACK!
A thunderous sound erupted inside his body. His dantian ignited, his meridians expanded, and his sea of chi roared alive.
Azren's aura surged, exploding outward. He had broken through to the Foundation Meridian – Middle Stage. The winds themselves bent at his command. His robes stretched and fluttered, his figure taller, deadlier, his presence no longer boyish but like that of a soaring predator.
Azren opened his eyes, and for the first time, the world trembled under him. He stepped forward, his feet no longer touching the ground—he was walking on wind.
---
Six days passed.
Yet despite his newfound power, his spirit tablet remained empty—zero points. Azren had not slain a single beast.
On the seventh day, he descended slowly to the bottom of the abyss. The valley widened into a cavernous field, and his eyes widened in shock.
Dozens of beast corpses littered the ground. The air was heavy with blood and death. And in the center of it all… towered a colossal Water Dragon. Its azure scales glimmered like crystal, its eyes glowing with intelligence. Its cultivation surged at the advanced stage of Spirit Convergence.
Azren's breath hitched. If I make even a sound… I'm dead.
Within his sea of chi, the soul stirred again—Kravon's laugh.
"Heh… so fate brings you here. Little brat, I'll owe you a debt this one time. If, in the future, you can refine a spiritual and physical body for me… I'll fight for you now."
Azren's lips curled faintly. "Fine. But the time and place will be mine to decide."
Kravon's laughter shook the abyss. "Good enough."
His soul tore free of Azren's body, taking form in the air. Dark winds swirled violently as he charged straight into battle with the Water Dragon.
The cavern thundered as wind and water clashed, each strike shaking mountains. Kravon's form slashed with violent gales, but the Water Dragon's waves surged endlessly, its power unbroken. Kravon roared, but his soul was weakened—he was no longer in his prime.
The dragon's scales split the wind. Its claws slashed through the darkness.
But in that instant—the dragon seal on Azren's shoulder flared alive.
BOOM!
The Water Dragon froze. Its Essentia and spiritual root were wrenched violently, drawn into the glowing dragon mark. Its roar echoed as its body collapsed into dust, its essence devoured.
Azren staggered, clutching his chest as the power rushed into him. His spiritual root pulsed violently, reshaping, evolving—
First the wind.
Now the water.
A dual-root unlike any other.
Azren's aura exploded once more. His foundation surged beyond control—he leapt directly to the peak of Foundation Meridian, half-step into Veins of Flow.
Kravon's soul reappeared before him, smirking. "You've taken two roots already. Heh… brat, you might actually live up to that cursed destiny. But for now… gather as many points as you can. It's the last day."
Azren looked around. The valley was littered with corpses of beasts slain by the Water Dragon. Their lingering spirits glowed faintly, drifting like embers.
His dragon seal pulsed—and in a wave, all of them were absorbed into his tablet.
Ding!
The tablet shone brightly.
Total Points: 5,040.
Azren's gray eyes glimmered in the darkness. A slow, wicked grin spread across his face.
"…Guess I passed the test."
The seventh day came to its end.
One by one, disciples staggered back to the gates of Aiden Hall. Many bore wounds, some barely qualified with a thousand points, while others collapsed in defeat, their spirit tablets empty. Yet among them stood proud faces—those who had proven themselves.
On the observation cliff near the valley, Master Erdi arrived with several Hall Masters and elite disciples. Among them was Gray, his aura calm but his eyes sharp.
He crossed his arms, his tone cold. "That reckless brat is dead. How could Aaya put her hopes on him just because of her mother's words?"
Before anyone could reply, a voice echoed across the valley.
"Who… is Aaya?"
Heads turned sharply. Gasps erupted.
From the depths of the valley, a figure rose slowly into the air. His robe was black, long and flowing, whipping in the wind like a banner of death. His hair streamed behind him, his eyes cold as gray steel. He ascended not with wings, not with flight treasures, not with Spirit Convergence cultivation—but as if the very air bent to his will.
Azren.
Kravon's voice chuckled faintly in his mind. See, brat? My wind root allows you to travel the skies even without Spirit Convergence. Remember this well—you're no longer bound by common limits.
Azren's lips curled int