At dawn, the bells of the Heavenly Sword Sect rang seventy-two times.

  It was rare, sacred—and chilling.

  Disciples paused in their cultivation. Elders looked toward the eastern cliffs, where a swirling rift had opened beside the waterfall known as Skyveil Fall.

  There, surrounded by sigils and elders in ceremonial robes, stood a black gateway.

  The Gate to the Inner Pavilion’s secret realm had opened.

  Li Xuan arrived with Moonvoid sheathed across his back. He wore the robes of a formal disciple now—black-trimmed with the silver crest of the Seventh Peak. His expression was calm, but his mind was razor-sharp.

  Hundreds had gathered.

  Only a dozen would enter.

  The trial was not a right. It was a war.

  Elder Mo addressed the crowd. “Within this realm lie the truths we avoid, the trials we forget, and the echoes of cultivators who failed before you. You will not be guided. You will not be protected.”

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  He turned to the participants. “Do not seek glory. Seek survival.”

  The ground trembled. The gateway pulsed.

  [Trial Initiation Confirmed. Transporting... 12 Participants.]

  Li Xuan’s vision fractured—then turned black.

  When he awoke, he stood in a forest of glass trees.

  The sky was crimson. The air shimmered like heat haze, and whispers echoed from the roots of the crystal trees.

  The other eleven stood scattered around him.

  A scroll hovered in the center of the clearing.

  [Trial Phase One: Retrieve the Soul Core hidden within the Forest of Reflections. Time Limit: 12 Hours. Only 6 may proceed.]

  Before anyone could speak, the scroll vanished—and the trees moved.

  Yes, moved.

  The forest twisted. Paths rearranged. Illusions shimmered.

  Li Xuan activated Moonvoid. The sword hummed to life, pulsing in tune with the forest.

  One of the participants—Zhou Lei, a top disciple from Third Peak—snorted. “Let the fodder run ahead. Less competition for us.”

  He darted into the woods.

  Others scattered. Some in pairs. Some alone.

  Li Xuan remained still.

  He closed his eyes.

  Moonvoid vibrated.

  [Thoughtform Projection Activated – Ghost Walk Variant Engaged]

  An echo of himself detached, darting through the shifting forest ahead.

  He felt everything it felt. Saw through its eyes. Felt the distortion.

  “Reflections...” he murmured. “It’s not the forest. It’s our own mind.”

  He stepped forward. Alone, but never unwatched.

  Somewhere deeper in the forest, another participant screamed.

  Not from injury—but from recognition.

  “I saw myself die...”

  The Forest of Reflections had begun.

  And only half would leave it whole.