The ImmortalBoneMirror was brought forth with ritual reverence.
Its frame was forged from ashen holy bone, veins of light breathing beneath the surface.
Ancient sigils flowed like life through it.
Even Yu He felt a subtle tremor in his Dao—its aura was so vast that he himself grew solemn.
### The Reveal
The mirror flared.
A pale halo enfolded Li Qiye, its light etching runes into the air.
His reflection sharpened within the surface:
the WheelofLife spun dim as red dust; the MansionofFate lay unopened; no trace of spiritual luminescence.
Yu He's voice was quiet but weighted:
"Mortal body. Mortal wheel. Mortal life. The palace remains closed; the Dao heart unawakened.
I see no aura of Immortal artifacts upon him."
For a moment, the world forgot to breathe.
### The Truth
KnockingthePalace was the first step of cultivation: anyone with a spiritual root opened it within days.
But Li Qiye's life‑wheel was dull, his fate palace sealed.
He had not even begun the path.
Under the Immortal Bone Mirror, no falsehood could survive.
The truth stood bare.
"Protector Xu, Protector Yu—does this satisfy you?"
Protector Mo's voice was low, his spite barely hidden.
To force Cleansing Dust to such a test was a humiliation already.
Yu He closed his eyes briefly, then bowed his head.
"Our apologies. Li Qiye is free of deceit."
Shock swept the assembly.
A thirteen‑year‑old mortal, without a single technique cultivated,
had crossed all fourteen levels of the Chaotic Heart Forest.
The word miracle no longer sufficed.
### The Second Walk
Xu Hun's hands shook, knuckles white.
"Impossible! This can't be!"
Li Qiye turned toward him, eyes clear as steel.
"Still unconvinced?
Then watch again—
see with your own knees what defeat means."
He stepped once more into the forest.
Breaths stopped.
Mist rose.
"First layer… second… fifth…" Huairen counted, voice trembling.
"Fourteenth!"
Light shifted.
The boy walked out again, unchanged, unstained.
Yu He's eyes closed; for the first time his Dao heart wavered.
Achildwithoutcultivationdepth—how?Whathadheendured?
### The Debt of the Wager
Li Qiye stood motionless, voice soft.
"Crawl."
Silence fell like ashes.
Xu Hun's face shifted between green and white, cold sweat dampening his brow.
To kneel before thousands was to lose a life's dream.
Yu He gritted his teeth.
"The Nine Saint Demon Gate pays its dues. A wager is a wager."
Protector Xu started forward but halted as Yu He's eyes cut to him.
Xu Hun froze.
Then a raw shout tore from him as his knees hit stone.
Thud!
He moved — inch by inch — beneath Li Qiye's legs.
No one spoke.
Li Qiye lifted one foot, pressing it lightly on his back.
"To honor me an inch, I return a foot.
To wrong me a grain, I repay a mountain.
'Genius disciple'? Unimpressive.
The Nine Saint Gate? Nothing more."
He turned and walked away.
Blood spattered the ground.
Xu Hun collapsed, unconscious.
Protector Xu caught him, face as black as stormclouds.
No one dared speak.
A mortal youth had shamed their entire sect before the mountain.
### The War Begins
In the main hall, Yu He, Protector Xu, and Protector Mo took their seats.
Li Qiye was already there, tapping the table in steady rhythm, smiling lightly.
"Since the written trial is done, let's proceed to the martial one."
The words fell like thunder.
None answered; anger boiled in their eyes yet none dared rise.
They had seen too much.
Yu He studied the boy, uneasy.
All his calculations failed to explain the calm strength behind that smile.
Cleansing Dust was a fallen sect, and Li Qiye an outsider barely admitted—
where did his confidence come from?
He could find no answer.
"Xu Hun is gravely injured," Yu He said at last.
"If you insist on the fight, I will name another."
A hoarse voice cut through.
"No need."
Xu Hun rose, pale as paper but standing still.
"This disciple can still fight."
"Xu Hun!" Yu He frowned.
Protector Xu's voice hardened.
"He is willing. Win or die, he has no regret."
Xu Hun's forehead veins stood out.
"If I fail again, I die and the sect is avenged."
Oaths shook the air.
Yu He's gaze darkened, then stabilized.
Among the young, Xu Hun was still one of their most gifted, wielding the SlaughterSwordArt to terrifying effect.
If the literary trial was lost, the martial one must restore honor.
"So be it."
He nodded.
"Fight then. Forget victory or defeat—fight without regret."
The hall grew cold. Wind stirred the edges of their robes.
Li Qiye rose slowly, a faint curve at his lip.
"Good.
Show me this 'Slaughter Sword' of yours—
and I shall see if it's worth lifting a single fist."
The air tightened.
Murderous intent sank like mist on the mountain.
The miracle had been written.
Now, the battle of blood would begin.