The days between the Starstone duel and the tournament bled away like sand through clenched fingers. Time, which had once dragged in the monotonous rhythm of drills and lectures, now accelerated, each sunrise bringing the impending trial closer. The morning before the tournament dawned crisp and clear, the last of the winter snow clinging in dirty patches to the shadows.
The training ground beside the Hall of Foundation was a seething anthill of nervous energy. Nearly fifty disciples, the entire Rank 1 cohort, milled about in chattering clusters. The air vibrated with speculation, negotiation, and thinly veiled anxiety. Futures hung in the balance, and today, allies would be chosen.
As usual, Yan Shu stood apart, a still point in the swirling chaos. His back was against the cold stone wall of the Hall, his eyes conducting a slow, methodical survey of the human landscape. At the front, holding court like a young emperor, stood Jin Rou. Flanked by Jin Kuo and two other main-family boys, he radiated a smug, pre-ordained confidence. His team, it seemed, was already a foregone conclusion.
A few minutes after the sixth bell, the crowd's murmur died as if severed by a knife. Elder Lao Chen strode into the yard, his presence instantly imposing order. Every disciple bowed in unison, a wave of respect that crested and broke into silence.
"We will not be inside today," Lao Chen stated, his gravelly voice carrying effortlessly. "The lesson is practical. Have you formed your teams as instructed?"
A hesitant, scattered chorus of "No, Elder" and "Not yet, Elder" answered him.
Yan Shu's mind, a silent engine, continued its scan. Team composition. The rules: three solid middle-stage Rank 1, one or two lower-stage. For a team with an upper-stage member like Jin Rou, only two middle-stagers were required. He needed to win. The 100 middle-grade stones were not just a prize; they were the key to his next leap. He needed a team not of friends, but of tools—complementary, reliable tools. And he needed to find them before they were all snatched up.
"Very well," Lao Chen grunted, a flicker of something that might have been amusement in his flinty eyes. "Consider classes canceled. You have until midday to form your teams of four or five and report the roster to Senior Disciple Liang." He gestured to a stern-faced young man standing at attention nearby. "Fail to join a team, and you will be assigned to one. Choose wisely. Your survival may depend on it."
With that, he turned and left, plunging the yard back into chaos—but now a chaos with a desperate, focused purpose.
The noise swelled into a deafening marketplace of ambition and fear. Disciples surged toward one another, voices overlapping.
"I'm middle-stage Fire, strong offense! Who needs a striker?"
"Looking for a lower-stage for scouting! Any Water paths?"
"Our team needs one more middle-stage! No Low-Grade cores!"
Yan Shu pushed off from the wall and began to move through the throng, not with the frantic energy of the others, but with the deliberate pace of a hunter. His first target was not a potential teammate, but a strategic piece on the board.
He walked directly toward the one island of calm in the storm. Su Ling stood near the well, observing the frenzy with her characteristic serene detachment. As Yan Shu approached, he saw Jin Rou's head snap around, his gaze tracking the movement with instant suspicion.
Yan Shu stopped before Su Ling. "Disciple Su," he said, his tone politely formal.
"Disciple Jin," she replied, her forest-shade eyes meeting his, curious but guarded.
"My team requires a middle-stage cultivator of exceptional control and versatility," Yan Shu stated, as if presenting a logical proposition. "Your mastery of Water and Healing Qi for environmental manipulation and support would be statistically optimal. Will you join?"
From across the yard, Jin Rou's face darkened like a thunderhead. His hands clenched at his sides.
Su Ling didn't even glance in Jin Rou's direction. She regarded Yan Shu for a long moment, then gave a small, almost imperceptible sigh. "I must decline, Disciple Jin."
"May I ask why?" Yan Shu asked, his head tilted. "My analysis suggests a high probability of success with you on the team."
A faint, wry smile touched Su Ling's lips. "Your analysis likely did not factor in grandmother's direct order to join the team led by Disciple Fen Hua," she said, nodding toward a serious-looking girl from a secondary branch who was already surrounded by two other disciples. "It seems my 'exceptional control' has been pre-allocated to balance a team heavy in Fire and Strength. Something about... preventing catastrophic collateral damage in the forest."
Yan Shu processed this. Political allocation of resources. Of course. Su Wei would not let her granddaughter's talent be squandered on a risky team, nor would she let her be used as a pawn in his feud with Jin Rou. It was a smarter move than he'd anticipated.
"I see," Yan Shu said, his expression unchanged. "A logical distribution. Thank you for your time." He gave a shallow bow.
Su Ling's smile lingered. "You are welcome. For what it's worth, Disciple Jin, it was a creatively bold opening move. Asking me was... amusing."
"It served its purpose," Yan Shu replied blandly, before turning away. He didn't look at Jin Rou, but he could feel the heir's furious glare dissipating into relieved smugness.
The brief exchange, however, had cost him. He was now marked. Disciples who had been eyeing him warily now actively turned their backs as he passed. Word traveled fast: Jin Yan Shu is forming a team. The heir's rival. Trouble.
His next three approaches met with swift, polite rejections.
A Middle-Stage Water Path disciple stammered, "S-sorry, Jin Yan Shu. My... my cousin's team already asked me." He fled before Yan Shu could respond.
A Lower-Stage Fire Path girl with keen eyes shook her head nervously. "I... I need a team with more... established protection. Sorry."
A solid Middle-Stage Strength Path boy, whom Yan Shu had noted for his steady defense during drills, looked him in the eye and said bluntly, "You fight with the heir. I don't need that kind of attention on a survival mission. Good luck."
The calculus was clear. His skill and cores were assets, but his political toxicity was a liability many were unwilling to risk. The pool of available, competent disciples was shrinking rapidly.
Then, he saw her. A disciple named Lin Mei, often at the edges of the Water Path training group. She wasn't practicing healing forms. She was practicing something else—coiling tendrils of water that snared training posts, creating slick patches on the ground, mist that obfuscated. She was Middle-Stage, her control precise but unshowy. A Water Path, but not a healer. A controller. Useful.
She was standing alone, watching a team of three Fire disciples argue amongst themselves, a slight frown on her face.
"Disciple Lin," Yan Shu said.
She turned, her eyes cautious. "Jin Yan Shu."
"Your water techniques are non-standard. You focus on control and terrain alteration, not healing or blunt force."
She blinked, surprised by the direct analysis. "Yes. The 'Frost-Grasp Vine' and 'Mist-Walker's Shroud' arts. They're... less celebrated."
"They are efficient," Yan Shu stated. "My team needs field control and sensory disruption. I am one middle-stage. I need two more. Will you join?"
Lin Mei studied him, her gaze sharp. "You're being avoided. Because of Jin Rou."
"Yes."
"Is your plan to win, or to spite him?"
"The former is the only reliable path to the latter," Yan Shu replied.
A faint spark ignited in her eyes. She was tired of being overlooked. "Alright. I'm in."
One. Now for the second middle-stage. He needed someone with mobility or scouting. His eyes landed on Gao Ren, a lanky, quiet disciple from a remote branch. He was often seen practicing alone, his body moving with an unsettling, fluid grace. He was Middle-Stage, but his Path was uncommon here: Shadow. Not the advanced combat Path of the legends, but a basic affinity for concealment, quiet movement, and low-light perception. A scout.
Gao Ren was leaning against a tree, seemingly asleep, but Yan Shu saw his eyes tracking the formations of teams like a bird of prey.
"Disciple Gao."
Gao Ren's eyes opened fully, dark and assessing. "Yes."
"The heir hates you."
A ghost of a smile. "Yes."
"Good. I hate people who expect to be followed." Gao Ren pushed off the tree. "I've seen you train. You don't waste movement. I don't like waste. I'm in."
Two. Now for the lower-stage slots. He needed balance. A second front-line fighter to complement his Strength, or perhaps ranged support. He saw Bai Xia, a young girl from a fallen branch family. She was Lower-Stage, her Qi weak but peculiarly sharp. Her Path was an offshoot of Metal: Needle Thorn. She could condense tiny, razor-sharp filaments of Metal Qi and launch them with surprising accuracy over short distances. Minimal power, maximum precision. A harrier, a distractor, useful against spirit beasts' eyes or weak points.
She looked terrified, clutching her practice needles, watching teams form without her.
"Disciple Bai," Yan Shu said. Her head jerked up. "You target small, precise points."
"Y-yes?"
"Can you follow instructions exactly?"
"I... I think so?"
"Can you be quiet?"
She nodded vigorously.
"Join the team."
He had four: Himself (Middle-Stage, Strength), Lin Mei (Middle-Stage, Water Control), Gao Ren (Middle-Stage, Shadow Scout), Bai Xia (Lower-Stage, Metal Needle). A controller, a scout, a precision harrier, and himself as the anchor. No healer. No flashy Fire power. It was an unconventional, potentially brittle composition, but it had synergy. It was a team built for efficiency and targeted strikes, not overwhelming force.
He reported the names to Senior Disciple Liang, who raised an eyebrow but noted them down without comment. Across the yard, Jin Rou's team was already finalized and reported: Jin Rou (Upper-Stage, Fire), Jin Kuo (Middle-Stage, Strength), Huo Feng (Middle-Stage, Fire—a brute force specialist), and Li Tao (Lower-Stage, Earth—a defensive bulwark). A classic, powerhouse "hammer" team. Overwhelming frontal assault.
By midday, the teams were set. Senior Disciple Liang delivered the scroll of rosters to Elder Lao Chen's pavilion.
The day of the quest arrived with a sky of bruised purple and grey, promising neither snow nor sun. The air was tense enough to taste. All ten teams stood assembled in the training yard, clustered together. Yan Shu's team stood slightly apart, a quiet island. Lin Mei looked focused, Gao Ren bored, Bai Xia trembling but trying to stand straight.
Elder Lao Chen stood before them, a scroll in his hand. "The tournament begins now. Your quests are not duels. They are tasks vital to the clan's survival in this harsh land. Success requires cooperation, adaptability, and clear thinking. Failure means returning empty-handed, or not returning at all."
He unrolled the scroll. "Team assignments are as follows, based on your reported compositions."
He began reading, his voice cutting through the silent morning.
"Team One: Jin Rou. Your objective is Beast Culling. A pack of five Rank 1 'Frost-Coated Howlers' has been denning too close to our northern timber lines. They are aggressive, pack-hunters with hides resistant to blunt force. Eliminate the pack. Bring back all five pelts as proof. Primary danger: The alpha, which may be nearing Rank 2. Location: Northern Fanged Woods."
Jin Rou's team grinned. A straight fight. Perfect for their composition.
"Team Two: Fen Hua. Your objective is Herb Retrieval. Granny Wen requires a batch of 'Shiver-Root,' which only grows in the dark, damp caves of the Whispering Deeps. Retrieve ten intact roots. Primary danger: Cave-ins, low oxygen, and the 'Pallid Bats' that swarm when disturbed. Location: Eastern Whispering Deeps."
Su Ling, on Fen Hua's team, gave a slight nod. A task suited to careful, methodical work.
He continued through several more teams—a team assigned to repair a damaged warning array on a ridge, another to map a newly appeared landslide path.
Then, his eyes found Yan Shu's group.
"Team Seven: Jin Yan Shu. Your objective is Monster Part Retrieval. A Rank 2 'Iron-Spine Badger' has been slain by a senior disciple in the western Blightwood fringe, but the body was left due to an ambush by Blight-crazed carrion birds. The badger's spine is reinforced with metal-attuned Qi—valuable for low-grade weapon handles. Its claws can be ground for strengthening potions. Find the carcass. Retrieve the complete spine and all four front claws. Do not engage the carrion birds if they remain—they are Rank 1 but swarm in numbers. Your task is simple retrieval. Primary danger: The Blightwood environment, and whatever else has been drawn to the carcass. Location: Western Blightwood fringe, last known coordinates near a storm-felled Ironwood."
A murmur went through the crowd. The Blightwood. It was a name spoken with dread. But the task itself was brutally simple: find a dead Rank 2 monster and harvest specific body parts. No ancient mysteries, no powerful artifacts. Just the gritty, physical work of a cultivator in a poor clan—salvaging every scrap of value.
Yan Shu looked at his team. Lin Mei's face was pale but set. Gao Ren's bored expression had vanished, replaced by keen interest—tracking a carcass through dangerous territory was real scouting work. Bai Xia looked queasy but determined. It was a perilous environment for Rank 1 disciples, but the objective played to their strengths: Gao's tracking, Lin's terrain control for navigating hazards and creating distractions, Bai's precision for careful dissection, and his own strength for carrying the heavy, awkward spine and protection.
It was a quest with environmental risk but straightforward goals. And importantly, it was a task where Jin Rou's brute-force approach offered no particular advantage—you couldn't burn your way to finding a specific corpse.
Elder Lao Chen lowered the scroll. "You have three days. Provisions will be given. Go now. May your Paths be clear and your wills firm."
As the teams broke into frantic, final preparations, Yan Shu met the eyes of his teammates, one by one. "We move fast. We find the carcass, harvest cleanly, and leave. Avoid conflict unless necessary. Understood?"
Lin Mei and Gao Ren nodded. Bai Xia took a deep, shaky breath and nodded too.
The calculus was set. The variables were in motion. The quest for the hundred stones had begun, not with the glory of combat, but with the grim, practical work of a bone-collector in a poisoned wood.