Chapter 85: The core ascension trials
Morning sunlight spilled over Azure Sky Sect like liquid gold. Bells echoed across the mountains, long and clear, calling every qualified disciple to the main field.
Li Ming tightened his robe and took a deep breath. The energy in the air buzzed like thunder waiting to strike.
This wasn’t just another test.
This was the Core Ascension Trials—the path every cultivator dreamed of.
Bai Guo, in his human form, stretched lazily beside him. "So, descendant, ready to get beaten up for glory?"
Li Ming rolled his eyes. "I’m not planning to get beaten up. Just... moderately bruised."
When they reached the field, it was already packed. Hundreds of disciples stood in formation, each radiating a different aura—fire, water, wind, metal, lightning. The air shimmered with spiritual energy.
At the front stood Elder Yun, hands behind his back, face serious.
"Today," the elder announced, voice carrying through the valley, "you will show not only your strength but your spirit. The Core Ascension Trials are not about luck. They are about control, composure, and conviction!"
A ripple of excitement spread through the disciples.
"Those who pass," Elder Yun continued, "will be granted entry into the Core Hall. Those who fail... will try again next year."
Li Ming gulped. Bai Guo whispered, "No pressure, descendant. Just the rest of your future on the line."
Before he could reply, the ground began to tremble. Massive stone platforms rose from the earth—dozens of them, floating in the air. Each one glowed with runes of spirit energy.
Elder Yun pointed. "Round one—The Elemental Confrontation. You will be matched against another disciple. You may use any skill or technique you’ve mastered. The goal is simple: stay standing."
Li Ming blinked. "Wait, just stay standing?"
Bai Guo grinned. "Sounds easy, right? Until the other guy sends you flying."
Names started glowing on talismans in the elder’s hands. "First match—Li Ming versus Zhao Feng."
A murmur ran through the crowd. Zhao Feng—the guy famous for breaking a boulder with a finger.
Li Ming sighed. "Why is it always me getting the monsters?"
Lan Yue, who stood a little distance away, smiled faintly. "Because monsters make heroes, Li Ming."
He stepped onto the platform. The surface shimmered with spiritual energy, humming beneath his feet. Across from him, Zhao Feng cracked his knuckles, his aura blazing bright orange.
"Try not to cry when I launch you off the mountain," Zhao sneered.
Li Ming smiled awkwardly. "I’ll... try to land gracefully."
Elder Yun’s voice boomed, "Begin!"
Instantly, Zhao shot forward, fists coated in flame. His first strike cracked the air like thunder. Li Ming barely dodged, his robes singed. The heat alone was enough to melt stone.
Li Ming countered with a sweeping palm strike, releasing a burst of spiritual wind. Zhao blocked, the flames flaring higher.
Each hit shook the platform. Sparks flew. Disciples gasped below.
Li Ming gritted his teeth. Focus. Flow with the energy. Don’t overthink.
He channeled his spiritual energy, letting it spiral through his arms. The wind around him thickened, forming a faint vortex.
Zhao lunged again. This time, Li Ming stepped in—not back.
Their attacks collided. Boom!
The explosion of fire and wind sent both sliding back.
Zhao smirked. "Not bad. But can you handle this?"
He slammed his palm to the ground. A fiery serpent rose, twisting through the air.
Li Ming took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing. "Alright then... let’s dance."
He moved his hands in a fluid motion, energy spiraling around him like ribbons of light.
Wind met flame. The serpent roared.
Li Ming spun, his energy forming a barrier of air that sliced through the attack, scattering sparks in every direction.
The spectators roared in amazement.
Bai Guo laughed loudly. "Finally! He’s fighting like someone who doesn’t trip over his own power!"
Lan Yue’s lips curved slightly. "He’s improving... fast."
Up on the platform, Li Ming stood firm. His arms ached, but his spirit burned brighter than ever.
Zhao looked at him, sweat running down his face. "You’ve grown stronger..."
Li Ming smiled. "You too. Unfortunately for you—I’ve had a lot of practice getting hit."
They both charged again—wind and fire colliding in a blast that shook the mountain.
---
The platform was cracked and smoking. Fire licked the air. Wind howled in circles.
Li Ming’s sleeves were torn, his palms burned from channeling too much energy.
Across from him, Zhao Feng was breathing heavily, flames flickering around his arms like restless spirits.
Neither wanted to back down.
The crowd below watched, completely silent. Every cultivator knew — one clean move could decide everything.
Bai Guo cupped his hands around his mouth. "Descendant! Don’t hold back! You’ve already embarrassed yourself enough times, so you’ve got nothing left to lose!"
Li Ming shouted back, "You’re not helping!"
Zhao grinned, lifting both hands. "You lasted longer than most. But I’m ending this."
He slammed his foot down. The entire platform burst into flame. Pillars of fire erupted, twisting into a blazing storm. The heat was so strong that even the air shimmered.
Li Ming clenched his fists. His mind was calm, but his heart pounded. Alright... if I don’t stop that, I’ll be roasted before lunch.
He drew in a deep breath, feeling the spiritual energy surge inside him. The world seemed to slow — every flame, every spark, every sound fading away.
Don’t fight the fire... move with it.
Li Ming’s feet shifted. His hands moved in a spiral, and the wind obeyed. The air thickened, circling him like a living storm.
Zhao’s firestorm came crashing down.
Li Ming exhaled—then shouted, "Flowing Tempest!"
The wind exploded outward. Fire met air and burst into a shockwave that rattled the mountain.
Smoke billowed everywhere. Disciples shielded their eyes.
When it cleared, Zhao was kneeling, panting hard. Li Ming stood across from him, arms trembling but still raised.
Elder Yun narrowed his eyes. "He’s channeling too much for his current level..."
Li Ming gritted his teeth. His energy was slipping out of control. The platform trembled under the force.
Bai Guo yelled, "Descendant, stop before you blow yourself up again!"
Li Ming didn’t reply. He pushed harder, wind spinning faster and faster until a miniature cyclone formed around him.
Zhao tried to counter with a wall of flame, but the cyclone devoured it, swallowing the heat and twisting it into raw force.
BOOM!
A blinding flash lit the sky.
Both disciples were thrown back. The platform split down the middle with a loud crack.
The crowd gasped. Dust and light filled the air.
When the haze cleared—Li Ming was still standing, barely. His clothes were tattered, his hair wild, but his eyes shone with fierce determination.
Zhao Feng groaned, lying on the ground. "Alright... fine... you win..."
The crowd erupted into cheers.
Elder Yun nodded slowly. "Li Ming... passes the first round."
Bai Guo puffed out his chest proudly. "That’s my descendant! Accidentally cool since day one!"
Li Ming slumped down, gasping for breath. "Yeah... totally meant to do that..."
Lan Yue approached, a faint smile on her face. "You’ve improved."
Li Ming chuckled weakly. "Improved? I nearly lost my eyebrows."
But before anyone could laugh, the ground beneath them rumbled.
The cracked platform began to glow. Faint golden lines pulsed across its surface, forming symbols—ancient, intricate, and pulsing with energy.
Lan Yue’s smile vanished. "Wait. That formation... it shouldn’t be active!"
Elder Yun’s eyes widened. "Everyone, off the platform—now!"
Li Ming staggered, confused. "What’s happening? Did I win too hard?!"
Bai Guo’s feathers puffed up. "Descendant... something’s waking up!"
A bright golden light burst from the cracks, shooting into the sky. The entire mountain shook as if the heavens themselves had answered.
The disciples screamed. The air twisted. Spiritual energy surged like a storm.
And then — a voice echoed through the air, deep and old:
"At last... a worthy successor."
Li Ming froze. "Wait... who said that?!"
The light enveloped him, pulling him upward.
Lan Yue reached out. "Li Ming!"
Bai Guo shouted, wings flaring. "Descendant!!"
The light swallowed everything—mountain, sky, sound.
Then—silence.
The crowd stared at the empty platform. Li Ming was gone.
Only a faint whisper remained in the air, echoing across the wind:
"Trial Two... has begun."
To be continued...