Kyrian breathed calmly before walking toward the entrance of the pavilion. He could feel everyone's eyes on him.

But he didn't care, he was already used to that. Without hesitation, he stepped inside the pavilion. As soon as his feet fully crossed the door, it closed with a dry boom, isolating him completely from the outside world.

What he hadn't realized was that, above the valley, near the disciples, in spots hidden by the trees and cliffs, four presences were silently watching him.

Five, counting Mei Ran, who stood at the front with her hands folded inside her sleeves. Her eyes completely fixed on the pavilion.

Around the pavilion, the other four elders remained hidden, their forces and presences entirely concealed from all the disciples present, completely suppressed.

'It doesn't matter much if this boy has talent for the path of the sword…' Mei Ran began to think as she observed.

'But, if he can endure at least ten seconds… that will already be good enough. The best that could happen.' She thought, narrowing her eyes.

The other elders shared the same thought as Mei Ran. Their gazes were filled with expectation.

Inside the pavilion, the moment Kyrian entered, he was struck immediately.

A wave of cutting Qi exploded in all directions, piercing him as if thousands of invisible blades were everywhere he moved.

Kyrian blinked and immediately used Qi, strengthening his body to protect himself. But he quickly realized it would not be enough.

"This won't work like this…" Kyrian murmured, seeing that perhaps he wouldn't last as long as he thought.

His Qi then condensed around him, turning into ice through his eyes. A thin, translucent barrier of ice covered his skin, emanating cold with each breath.

The invisible blades in the air began to be blocked, scratching and cracking the ice but unable to break through completely, for Kyrian was constantly feeding the ice with his Qi.

It was then that Kyrian finally looked toward the center of the pavilion.

In the center of the pavilion, there was nothing but a single sword.

Stabbed into the ground, its shape resembled the leaves that fell from the great trees. Green, sharp, radiating an ancient pressure. It was from there, from that sword, that came all the strength, all the pressure, and all the tests everyone else had faced.

But Kyrian's gaze wasn't on the sword itself, his eyes caught something that no one before had ever seen.

Above the sword, there was something suspended in the air.

It was a cut.

Thin, invisible to common eyes. As if someone had sliced space itself, and that cut had been left forever engraved in that place.

Kyrian froze for an instant. That, that phenomenon. He had seen it before.

Not just once, but twice.

When he contemplated the ice crystals in the frozen barrier, in the frozen lands within the mortal territory.

And also, when he witnessed the crystallized drop of blood in the five-point formation used by Wei Feng in the royal capital.

It was once again an intent. A mark, a comprehension, an understanding left in the world by someone.

His eyes gleamed. Without hesitation or wasting time, Kyrian advanced.

With every step he took, the air grew sharper, as if thousands of swords were trying to tear his body apart.

At that moment, the ice exploded around him, renewing his protection at each instant, covering his arms and legs with a living armor of ice.

When he finally got close enough, he extended his right hand.

The first finger that touched the suspended cut was immediately torn open. Then the palm. Blood flowed, dripping down onto the sword below. But Kyrian did not back away.

With a sudden movement, he seized the small cut. In that moment, space trembled, and the entire pavilion shook as if it were about to collapse at any second.

Kyrian no longer hesitated. With all his strength, he brought that small cut toward his own eye.

In the next instant, an infernal pain consumed him.

It was as if millions of blades pierced every part of his body. From his brain to every inch of his skin. Every nerve screamed, every fiber seemed to be shredded.

The pain converged into his eyes, burning his pupils like an abyss.

And then… silence.

Kyrian's consciousness fainted under the pain. When he awoke, he was no longer in the pavilion. Instead, he found himself once again in the same space of darkness as before.

In total darkness, Kyrian could distinguish small intents, symbols, that had been present in this place until now.

He saw the crystallized drop of blood in one corner, emanating a bizarre bloody intent.

He saw the small icy crystal, emanating a soul-freezing cold.

And now, before him, there was a simple cut. Without ornament or beauty, it wasn't flamboyant. Just a simple cut, from which he could feel pure destructive power.

Kyrian then raised his hand and touched the cut.

Immediately, his blue pupils were dyed a deep green, and the snowflake-shaped irises contracted until they disappeared. Giving way to two irises shaped like white swords.

The pain was terrible. But along with the pain came something greater. A comprehension that was difficult to explain in words.

Kyrian felt a new path open in his mind. And mainly in his eyes.

Outside the pavilion, while Kyrian recovered, fissures spread across the pavilion walls, and cracks tore through the ground. And the sound of collapse made the disciples retreat immediately.

"THE PAVILION IS GOING TO BE DESTROYED!" One of the elders who had been hidden suddenly shouted.

Mei Ran and the four elders unleashed their cultivations at once. Their Qi surged like beacons, trying to stop the building from collapsing over the disciples below.

But the cracks spread too quickly.

It was then that a shadow suddenly appeared in front of the pavilion. Silent. Like a ghost.

With a single gesture of his finger, all the destruction within the pavilion ceased.

The pavilion seemed to freeze mid-collapse, and in an instant, it stabilized as if nothing had ever happened.

If not for the visible cracks, everyone would have thought they were hallucinating.

Everyone fell into absolute silence upon witnessing this.

Mei Ran and the four elders appeared, bowing deeply before the figure.

"We greet the Sect Leader."

The words echoed like thunder in everyone's ears.

The disciples who were watching the scene immediately bowed fully, their hearts racing.

The leader of the Verdant Sword Sect, a figure who rarely showed himself, stood before them.

The man's expression was serious, his gaze extremely dark as he looked toward the pavilion.

"Mei Ran." The man's voice came out deep.

"What the hell happened here?" the sect leader finished, like a blade cutting through the air.

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