Dawn broke as a thin smear of cold gray.
Snow covered the courtyard like an old shroud, hiding blood and mud under silent white.
The survivors gathered slowly, boots crunching, breath fogging in ragged bursts.
Wei Lian stood near the edge, back straight despite the weight of his bandages.
Blood crusted along the ripped seam of his robe.
The chill bit into his skin but he didn't move to warm himself.
Some disciples shifted, hugging themselves, teeth chattering.
Their eyes were sunken, ringed in purple and black.
No one dared speak above a whisper.
Jin Xiu lounged in the front, arms draped over his stone like a throne.
His lip was split wide, dried blood cracking as he smirked.
One eye swollen nearly shut, he still managed to look contemptuous.
Mu arrived like a shadow given form.
Snow collected on his bald scalp and shoulders, unmoving.
He didn't shiver, didn't glance at the wind.
He let the silence fester.
The wind shrieked once through the courtyard, rattling loose shutters.
No one moved.
Finally he spoke, voice low and cutting.
"You think survival makes you worthy?"
"You think crawling out of that canyon means you're strong?"
"You're fools."
A shudder ran through the line.
One disciple flinched so hard his teeth clacked.
Jin Xiu's grin only widened, ugly and sharp.
Mu's eyes passed over them slowly, weighing them like pigs at market.
"You paid in blood for one thing."
"A single chance."
"Don't mistake that for anything more."
He turned, gesturing with a slow sweep of one heavy hand
Beyond the courtyard walls the Blackwind Archive rose into the sky, swallowing dawn's meager light.
Its black stone walls were coated in frost so thick it looked like bone.
Runes crawled over the doors in deep grooves, packed with ice.
Windows stared blankly, blind and pitiless.
Icicles daggered down from the roof like fangs.
The wind howled around its base but couldn't enter.
It sounded like a dying animal, desperate and hungry.
No one wanted to step closer.
Mu's voice dropped even further.
"Inside lie six floors."
"Six thresholds you're not ready to cross."
"Six ways to die before you even grasp power."
He didn't repeat the levels.
He didn't have to.
They all remembered, every word like a brand on their minds.
Some disciples shifted on numb feet.
One swallowed loudly enough to be heard.
Jin Xiu just stared at the doors with glittering, greedy eyes.
Mu turned back to face them, eyes hard as frozen stone.
"You'll see one floor."
"Only the first."
"That's all your blood bought you."
Silence fell heavy as burial earth.
Snow drifted down in fat, silent flakes, settling on bowed heads.
Breaths steamed out and died in the cold.
Mu studied them all, gaze pinning them like insects.
"Inside you will find scrolls, tablets, walls inked in blood."
"They don't care about you."
"They won't teach you willingly."
He let that truth hang.
"You get one choice."
"One technique."
"One chance to make it yours."
No one spoke.
The courtyard felt smaller, tighter.
The wind stopped entirely, as if listening.
Mu's voice was a snarl.
"Fail, and you get nothing."
"Not a second chance. Not pity."
"You'll be beneath notice forever."
A few looked away, swallowing tears.
Jin Xiu licked blood from his cracked lip, the grin never fading.
Wei Lian stayed still, watching the tower.
He didn't blink.
He let the cold soak into his bones.
He felt his Qi settle, coiling tight and patient.
Mu turned slowly to the doors.
He pressed his palm flat against the old iron.
Runes flared in dull red, crackling like dying coals.
The doors screamed as they opened.
Snow shook loose in great sheets, falling like ash.
A cold wind blasted out, dry as old bones.
Inside, lamps burned low, shadows twitching on walls of ancient stone.
Scrolls sagged on crooked shelves, bound in black twine.
Stone tablets lined the walls, their carvings crawling like insects.
The air smelled of dry blood, wax, and old dust.
It felt heavy, waiting, thick with ancient promises and threats.
Even sound died there, swallowed whole.
Mu stepped aside without looking at them.
"Enter."
"Choose."
"Show you're more than meat."
Jin Xiu pushed forward first, shoulders thrown back.
He didn't look back, didn't slow.
His silhouette was swallowed by the dark.
Others hesitated, fear written in every line of their bodies.
Some whispered prayers no one answered.
But they went.
Wei Lian waited.
He watched every single one disappear.
He let his breath slow, deep, steady.
He felt the Human Root throb in his dantian, cold and honed.
Below it, the Chaos Root slept, vast and unbothered.
Waiting.
He studied the threshold, the runes still glowing faintly red.
He listened to the silence that sucked in even the wind.
He knew the tower was watching him back.
He stepped forward.
Boot met ancient stone.
The doors closed behind him with the sound of finality.
The cold died instantly.
Inside was only stillness, heavy and oppressive.
Secrets pressed against his skin like a lover's hand.
He inhaled slowly, filling his lungs with the stale, cold air.
This place wanted to break him.
It would fail.
He would study every shadow.
He would steal every scrap they never meant to give.
He would turn their knowledge into something that would make them all kneel.
Not for anyone else.
Not even for revenge.
For himself.
Because this was the cost of being unbreakable.
Because knowledge was a weapon.
And he was willing to bleed to wield it.