The race had begun.
Not one of blades or brawn.
This was a challenge between spirit.
Beneath a skyless dome of obsidian stone, where no stars marked the hours and no wind stirred the stillness, six cultivators sat in silence. Eyes closed. Bodies unmoving. But within, their souls churned in quiet conflict, each striving to align with the ancient will pressing down from above.
At the centre of the chamber, the sovereign's chest pulsed, slow, steady and radiant. It did not call the strongest.
Only the one who resonated.
Ryu stood apart from them, his posture straight, arms at his sides, gaze half-lidded, not meditating but watching.
Lira mirrored him from across the curve of the wall, legs folded beneath her, arms loosely crossed, her expression unreadable.
Neither reached toward the pulsing Qi.
Neither could.
The mark had already spoken. The inheritance rejected them not for weakness, but for something deeper. Their destinies had split from this path long before they arrived.
So Ryu turned his focus elsewhere.
In the space array above where they had all entered, he'd left behind a thread of Qi, a sliver of his will interwoven with the glyphs. He reached for it now, quiet and deliberate, drawing on his understanding of space like threading a needle.
He breathed in then slowly out.
Again.
Then, a pulse.
Not from within the obelisk…
But from above.
The air rippled.
A subtle shimmer became a fracture, space cracked like glass under pressure, fine lines tearing reality itself, and from that tear, eight figures emerged mid-step, like brushstrokes painted into existence along with a distorted light.
They staggered.
Collapsed to knees or leaned against one another, breath shallow and limbs trembling from exertion.
Himari. Veris. Two survivors from Warren's team with four more from Baihu's.
All of them exhausted but alive.
"Himari?" Lira's voice broke the stillness, already moving from the wall to intercept her.
The girl nearly fell into her arms. Sweat dampened her collar, and her breath came in short, uneven bursts.
"We… we made it," Himari panted. "It took everything we had, but we followed your instructions Ryu. They didn't believe me at first, but after the second pulse, just like you said, the array opened."
Ryu stepped beside them, resting a hand gently on Himari's shoulder. His voice was low. Steady. "You did well. But for now, we must stay quiet. The others are mid-synchronization. We can't interfere."
She nodded hastily and stepped back; eyes wide as she scanned the silent, glowing forms meditating around the chamber.
Ryu and Lira took a few minutes to quietly bring the new arrivals up to speed. The inheritance. The sovereign's mark. The contest of soul and will happening in plain sight.
Some among the new eight looked disappointed. Others simply accepted it.
This wasn't their race.
But the air around them still shimmered with opportunity.
"…Still," Veris muttered, sitting cross-legged and already slipping into posture. "This place… the Qi density is unreal. I'd be an idiot not to cultivate here."
"Exactly," Lira agreed, folding beside him. "Even without the mark, this room is overflowing."
The ancient Qi swelled again like a breath being drawn through the chamber.
In the centre Yan sat motionless, her aura glowing softly.
Her brows creased.
She reached out with her Qi and spirit and connected.
Then she was denied.
Again, she tried, deeper this time, her Qi threading carefully toward the swirling resonance of the sovereign's will.
Then… a long sigh.
"It's no good," she murmured, eyes opening as Ryu passed behind her. "I can use the Qi, but the mark… it won't accept me."
Ryu paused. Laid a hand lightly on her shoulder. He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
Across the chamber, Warren sat like a mountain, still and unmoving.
But his aura…
His Qi pulsed in slow, tidal arcs, golden threads braided with dark, fertile weight.
He was syncing.
And syncing fast.
Ronan, to his left, remained calm but strained, sweat beading along his brow.
Akari…
Her aura flared. It was subtle, but undeniable. The edge of the Elemental Stage frayed beneath her, ready to split open and give way.
Ryu knelt behind her.
"Do you want help?" he asked, voice low but steady.
Akari hesitated, the fire dancing along her palms dimming for a moment. "If… you're willing."
He nodded once and placed his hands gently at the centre of her back. The moment their Qi touched, something shifted, his Yang energy spiralling in delicate harmony with her inner flame. This time, the resonance was seamless.
A gentle pulse of heat flowed through them both.
Akari gasped softly as she begun to gain clarity. Her meridians lit with brilliant warmth, her dantian expanding as the fire-element Qi surged inward, refined and focused. With a final breath, she felt like she broke through.
Peak of Elemental Stage Nine.
Then… something cracked.
Her body froze, just for an instant, before a rush of pressure followed, a step not of training, but transformation. Her Qi began the delicate dance into the Ascension Realm.
Across the room, Veris sat in silence, his brow furrowed but calm. Wisps of fire curled upward from his shoulders as he pushed steadily into Rank Four. Controlled. Clean. Every step earned.
Himari, a few meters away, sat still as ice, her breathing shallow. But the threads of Qi around her had thickened. Stage Five. Her cultivation climbed with grace, not speed, her body drinking in the inheritance chamber's dense spiritual current like a desert finding rain.
Lira, seated off to the side, had shifted into her own cultivation. Her connection to the sovereign's Qi remained unusual. It entered her, cleansed her channels, refined her core and yet, it never sank deep. It did not test her or burden her. It simply filled her. Nourished her.
It's not rejecting me, she thought. It's just… passing through me.
Her core swelled gently, a ripple of pressure crossing her meridians.
Ascension Stage Three.
Yet through all of it, one presence towered above the rest.
Warren.
His Qi had become a current of gold and deep green, pulsing with steady rhythm. Not flaring. Not explosive, but impossibly dense. Steady threads rose along his spine and coiled like rings of light around his core.
And the room responded.
Baihu's eyes snapped open.
Ronan turned, startled, his own meditation trembling as he felt the shift.
Even Ryu paused, gaze fixed on the man now bathed in the glow of the sovereign's will.
So the inheritance has chosen a direction…
But the mark hadn't descended yet.
Not fully.
The race wasn't over.
Not yet.
Across the obsidian floor, Warren's Qi surged brighter than ever, the golden threads now forming distinct lines across his skin tattoo-like veins pulsing with ancient authority.
Baihu stared.
His own cultivation was formidable, Ascension Stage Eight. His body stronger. His training more refined. His sect more elite.
But his Qi didn't bend toward the inheritance.
And Warren's… welcomed it.
His jaw tightened. Hands clenched on his knees.
He's going to take it. That… insect. He's going to take what should be mine.
I am the disciple of White Heaven. Chosen by a master who once stood beside a Sovereign. This power is mine by right… not his.
His nostrils flared.
"Yes," he whispered. "Exactly. As long as Warren is here, I will never receive the mark."
He rose slowly.
"White Heaven Sect, assemble before me."
The words split the chamber's hum like a blade against glass. Even those deep in meditation stirred at the sudden shift.
Five cultivators from Baihu's side rose fatigued, some injured, but loyal. His second-in-command stepped forward first. Tall, broad-shouldered, eyes focused.
"Senior Baihu," he said, releasing the bindings on his core. His aura flared.
Ascension Stage Four.
The others followed. Three elemental cultivators, ranks three and four and one at the edge of Ascension. Their faces bore uncertainty. Hesitation. But not defiance.
Baihu's tone never wavered. Cold. Clear.
"I have made a decision. The mark will not descend while Warren breathes. He is the obstacle. Remove him… and I will take what was promised."
The words hung in the air, laced with venomous conviction.
"In return, when we return to our realm, I will see you all elevated. Wealth. Status. Titles. Everything our sect can offer."
The promise was seductive and terrifying.
His second-in-command nodded. "It shall be done."
Behind him, the other four began to gather their Qi, reluctant but resolved.
Across the chamber, Ryu watched.
His eyes narrowed, the ambient flow of the room suddenly fracturing sharp. Distorted. The quiet had broken. Intent had changed.
Yan's eyes opened next. Her hand drifted toward her blade.
Ronan turned, eyes flicking between Baihu's formation… and Warren, still seated. Still channelling the sovereign's will.
Unaware.
Unarmed.
Unprotected.
And the threat… was moving.