The soft hiss of Chamber Seventeen's door was the only sound in the gallery. Thirty-five other children were still trapped in their glassy infernos, their forms blurred by heat haze and their own desperate struggles. Lin Xuan stood in the open doorway, pale ash dusting his silver hair like strange snow, his expression one of mild exhaustion.
Instructor Kuo stared. The stone of his face had fractured into sheer, unadulterated shock. Then, a sound emerged from him—a dry, rustling scrape that built into a low, rumbling chuckle, then erupted into full, echoing laughter. It was a sound utterly alien to the grim subterranean forge, devoid of warmth but brimming with a kind of savage appreciation.
"Hah! Hahaha! INDIFFERENCE!" he boomed, his laughter cutting through the roar of the distant fires. "You didn't fight it. You didn't hide from it. You… ignored it into submission!" He shook his head, the laughter subsiding into a series of sharp, amused exhales. "Frostbloom. Lin Xuan. You have just redefined 'conquest' for this entire class."
His pale blizzard-eyes pinned Lin Xuan, not with the scalpel-probe of before, but with the focused interest of a master artisan discovering a new, perplexing, and incredibly durable material. "The training hasn't finished yet. You have fifteen minutes before we begin the real cultivation. Use it to rest. Or," his gaze swept the gallery, "to talk."
The doors of the other chambers began to slide open at the one-hour mark, releasing a wave of heat and staggering, soot-stained children. Lin Jun emerged, his fine robes scorched, his skin reddened, his expression one of furious humiliation. He had survived, barely, but his chamber still blazed behind him. Lin Meilin stepped out, her defensive lattice having held until the final minutes. She was pale, trembling from qi depletion, but her eyes immediately found Lin Xuan, standing clean and composed outside his already-open door.
The difference was stark, and a new kind of silence fell among the students—a silence heavy with awe, confusion, and for some, like Lin Jun, a simmering resentment.
As instructed, they had fifteen minutes. The children collapsed onto the hot stone floor of the gallery, gulping water from provided skins, tending to minor burns. Whispers broke out, all orbiting the same subject.
"How did he do it?"
"His chamber's fire…it just died around him."
"Is that even a Lin technique?"
"Frostbloom…he's not even strong!"
Lin Jun sat apart, scowling as he applied a cooling salve. Lin Meilin, after a moment's hesitation, moved to sit near Lin Xuan. "You didn't use a technique," she stated flatly, her intelligent eyes searching his face.
Lin Xuan took a small sip of water, his movements deliberately slow. "The instructor said to conquer it. I just… didn't let it matter." He gave her the same answer he'd given Kuo, knowing it was both truth and perfect obfuscation.
Lin Meilin's brow furrowed. "That's not a method. That's a philosophy. Philosophy doesn't cool molten rock."
"Maybe it does,"Lin Xuan said softly, looking at his ash-dusted hands. "If your philosophy becomes your nature."
Before she could dissect that further, Lin Jun's voice cut across, sharp with wounded pride. "A trick. He must have a treasure on him. Something that absorbs heat. No one with a weak constitution like his can neutralize elemental fire with will alone." It was the protest of someone whose worldview of direct power had just been upended.
Lin Xuan didn't argue. He simply nodded, as if considering the possibility. "Perhaps."
His non-reaction seemed to infuriate Lin Jun further, but the boy said nothing more.
The fifteen minutes bled away, marked by the slow drip of condensation in the hot gallery. As the last second passed, Instructor Kuo, who had been observing them all with that new, calculating amusement, clapped his hands once.
The sound was like two mountains cracking together. Everyone fell silent.
"Rest time is over. The fire was a test of your spirit's resilience against its opposite. Now," he said, turning and walking toward the opposite wall of the cavern. Another wave of his hand, and a new passageway materialized—this one exhaling a breath so cold it made the lingering heat of the gallery feel like a memory. It was a cold that burned, a dry, sharp, aggressive freeze that sought to flash-freeze the moisture in their eyes and lungs.
"Now, we temper the body that houses that spirit. To the heart of the Lin."
They followed, shivering now in the violent transition. This corridor was short, leading to a vast, circular chamber unlike any other. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of a pure, deep blue ice that glowed with an internal light. The cold here was not just an absence of heat; it was a tangible, pressing force. It was the Absolute Zero Chamber, a place where cold itself became a furious, devouring flame. The air crackled, not with energy, but with the sound of moisture instantly crystallizing.
"Your physiques are born of cold," Instructor Kuo said, his breath pluming into a cloud of diamond-dust ice crystals. "But you are soft. Coddled. You use cold as a tool, a weapon. Today, you will remember it as your master, your forge, and your predator."
He gestured around the vast, empty chamber. "This is a spatial room. Its dimensions are… flexible. Today, it will not be empty. You will temper your bodies here using only pure physical strength and primal skill. Cultivation techniques, qi circulation for enhancement—all are forbidden. Use them, and you will be removed, permanently."
A cruel smile touched his lips. "And to ensure you understand the stakes, you will not be alone. The Lin Clan's enemies are many. Some are fiery. Others… are born of the same ice as we are, but twisted, feral, and hungry."
With a snap of his fingers, the far wall of the chamber shimmered. Twelve portals of swirling blue light irised open. From each, a creature loped, slid, or scuttled into the room.
They were Glacial Howlers. Rank 0 Demonic Beasts—the lowest classification, but formidable to mortals and untested children. They were the size of large wolves, their bodies seemingly carved from jagged, dirty ice, with maws full of crystalline teeth and claws that screeched against the floor. Their eyes burned with a mindless, hungry blue light. They were creatures of pure, instinctual cold and savagery, perfectly adapted to this killing environment.
The children froze, a new kind of terror seizing them—sharper and more primal than the fear of fire.
"I do not want cowards here," Instructor Kuo's voice was a whip-crack in the frozen air. "Your task is simple: Survive. For one hour. Using only the body you were born with, the instincts in your blood, and the cold as your only ally… or your executioner. The Howlers are immune to the ambient chill. You are not. They are stronger, faster, and have weapons for limbs. You have your hands, feet, and wits."
He looked at their terrified faces, his gaze lingering on Lin Xuan, whose silver eyes were now assessing the beasts, their patterns of movement, the terrain of the chamber.
"This," Instructor Kuo said, stepping back toward the single exit, which sealed shut behind him with a final, thunderous boom, "is where you learn what it truly means to be Lin. Begin."
The twelve Glacial Howlers lowered their heads, the grating of their ice-flesh a horrifying chorus. A chorus answered by the ragged, terrified breaths of thirty-six children.
The trial of ice and fang had begun.