The square had already fallen under the control of the Thunder Sect. Their disciples stood in formation, overseeing the entrance trials for the children who had come to compete in the Ascension Conference.
The age requirement was strict: six to fifteen. Thirteen-year-old girls like Lauren and Tamara were on the older side, so they squeezed their way closer to the front to avoid being lost in the sea of half-grown children that stretched as far as the eye could see.
The first stage was bone age testing.
Predictably, some tried to cheat. A handful of dwarfs and several who had clearly passed the age of fifteen were exposed and promptly expelled.
Lauren didn’t quite understand why the great sects enforced such strict limits, when minor sects were far more lenient.
The second stage was spiritual root testing.
Although every participant had already been tested before, the exact values hadn’t been revealed. This retest was conducted using a proper Spirit-Testing Pillar—a meter-tall column that glowed faintly with inscriptions.
Unlike the crude disks used in provincial towns, the pillar was capable of showing not just the type of spiritual roots, but their purity as well.
Lauren thought of her family’s Evercrest estate, where they relied on a shabby disk that barely registered accuracy. At least it hadn’t been wrong about her.
This second trial wasn’t just for show. The Thunder Sect was searching for prodigies: those born with single spiritual roots, rare special constitutions, or the even rarer spiritual bodies. Those fortunate enough to be chosen would bypass all other stages and head directly to the Heart-Questioning Gate. With good character, they could ascend the mountain at once.
Such talents were rare, of course. So far, three had appeared—each blessed with a single root—and the crowd was buzzing with envy.
Tamara leaned in, whispering with awe. “Lauren, see? A gift straight from heaven. With a single spiritual root, they can join the inner sect immediately. If an elder takes them in, they’ll be direct disciples. That’s practically ascending on the spot.”
Lauren’s voice was cool. “No one has ascended on the Cultivation Continent for generations.”
Tamara laughed. “I don’t care. Being a direct disciple feels close enough to heaven for me.”
The disciple overseeing the test called her name.
Tamara’s hands tightened at her sides. “Alright, it’s my turn.”
Lauren watched her mount the stage, shoulders stiff with nerves. Tamara knew what roots she carried, but knowing didn’t calm the anticipation.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed her palm against the cold stone.
The pillar flared to life, surging with two intertwined streams of light. Tamara’s heart hammered as the glow finally steadied.
“Tamara,” the examiner announced. “Dual spiritual roots: wood primary, water secondary. Wood purity—seventy percent. Water purity—forty percent.”
The middle-aged man managing the records smiled warmly as he handed her a badge. “Very good. Work hard in the next stage—your chances of entering the inner sect remain high.”
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Tamara’s face lit with joy. She bowed deeply. “Thank you, Elder!”
Now it was Lauren’s turn.
Her steps were steady, but inside, tension coiled.
Her immortal root would never show on a common disk. Only cultivators of high rank could see it within her directly. The pillar might be different, but she wasn’t sure.
Flower Wife had once told her that her roots appeared as three: earth, wood, and water. Hidden beneath them, however, was a mutant ice root—an immortal root that would only truly awaken when she formed her core.
Could the pillar detect it?
And if not, should she settle for life in the outer sect for a year? Or… should she reveal her hand?
Forget it, she decided as she reached the pillar. If it doesn’t show, I’ll show my cards myself.
The Outer Sect had a reputation for being brutal. Those without backing or influence were trampled mercilessly, and nearly two-thirds of new disciples were eliminated within their first year.
But Lauren had no intention of wasting her time there. Her goal was clear: she wanted to become a disciple of Drake, the Thunder Sect’s strongest master. Only by climbing quickly could she prepare herself for the real battle—against the Heaven itself.
She couldn’t afford to waste her life farming vegetables in the Outer Sect while waiting for luck to turn.
And luck was fickle. Even cultivators like her born with the finest physiques often failed again and again at the most basic budding stage. For someone like her—marked by fate itself—relying on “luck” was as good as suicide.
No, she needed power. Now.
Lauren stepped before the spirit-testing pillar and pressed her palm flat against its cold surface.
Three streams of light flared up at once: earth, wood, and water. They rose at the same steady pace, perfectly synchronized.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd below. Most had never seen anything like it. Three roots rising evenly, as though competing for dominance—rare enough to draw stares.
The middle-aged examiner’s eyes widened. He rose from his chair, striding closer.
At fifty percent, the three beams suddenly flickered, their edges blurring as if they wanted to merge.
The man hurried around the table, squinting hard at the pillar. “Alright, that’s enough. Take your hand away.”
Lauren blinked, confused. She didn’t know if this was good or bad.
The examiner’s voice dropped, tinged with awe. “Your three roots are showing signs of fusion… very likely an invisible mutation.”
Relief loosened the tightness in Lauren’s chest. As long as something showed up, she was safe.
“Come with me,” he said briskly.
She followed him obediently to the side, where he pulled out a clear, crystalline orb. “Focus your energy and mind. Place your hand on it.”
Lauren did as instructed. The orb, transparent a moment ago, flared instantly into an icy, glowing blue.
The elder sucked in a sharp breath. His face lit up with delight.
“Invisible mutant—ice spiritual root! Ha! Little girl—Lauren, is it? You’ve done well. Your future is limitless.”
He pressed a jade token into her hand and motioned to a nearby disciple. “Vernon, escort her at once.”
“Yes, Master.”
Lauren bowed. “Thank you, Elder.”
The man was already turning back to the crowd, giddy with fortune. Three single-root geniuses and now an ice root—this year was his greatest harvest in decades.
From the queue, Tamara spotted her and waved excitedly. Lauren lifted a hand in return.
She really was a decent girl. With her strong dual roots, she might even break through into the inner sect. Lauren silently wished her well.
“Junior Sister Lauren,” Vernon said, catching her expression. “Is that your friend?”
“Yes, Senior Brother. Could I speak with her a moment?”
“Of course.” He smiled easily. “Come, I’ll take you.”
Lauren inclined her head. “Thank you.”
Vernon was an inner sect disciple, and escorting her was hardly an inconvenience. With talent like hers, it was only natural he’d want to build goodwill early.
They crossed the square together.
“Lauren, what root did you awaken? Why are you leaving with a senior brother already?” Tamara asked in surprise.
Lauren smiled. “Ice spiritual root. I won’t be joining you for the rest of the tests. Good luck, Tamara.”
Tamara blinked, thrown off. “Ice? But I saw three roots on the pillar—didn’t I?”
Vernon explained, “She carries an invisible mutant ice root. Ordinary pillars can’t see it yet. It will only fully manifest after she forms her core.”
Tamara’s face went blank, confusion pulling at her brows. Clearly, this was outside her depth.
Lauren offered her a reassuring smile. “Do your best. I’ll see you inside.”
Tamara nodded slowly, still dazed.
Vernon led Lauren into a side chamber, where the three single-root prodigies were already waiting.
“You won’t need to participate in the next eight trials,” Vernon told them. “Once the testing concludes, I’ll personally escort you all to the mountain to face the Heart-Questioning Gate. Until then, my fellow disciples—be patient.”
