The gates of the Shang City Academy opened with a low groan, ancient iron creaking as hundreds of hopefuls gathered before the grand hall. Among them stood Zhen Zenin—his black robes simple, his expression cold.
No one recognized him.
But everyone felt something.
A pressure. A presence. As if a beast slept behind his eyes.
---
Inside the exam hall, elders observed from a high platform. Master Qing, the chief examiner, raised a hand.
"This year's trial will not test knowledge alone," he said. "You wish to become cultivators—then prove your strength."
The floor rumbled.
Stone walls parted, revealing a deep tunnel beneath the academy. Faint growls echoed from within.
"The Trial of the Spirit Beasts," Master Qing declared. "Survive for one hour. Kill or be killed."
Gasps filled the hall.
Zenin stepped forward, unfazed.
---
The tunnel reeked of blood and old earth. Inside, ten students wandered cautiously—some trembling, others eager.
Then the growls grew louder.
Bam!
A three-eyed wolf lunged from the dark, fangs bared.
Screams followed. Two students were mauled in moments.
Zenin moved without fear. His palm lit up with white flame.
He sidestepped a charging beast, palm striking its chest. The wolf howled as flames engulfed its body, crumbling into ash.
The other students stared in awe.
"He... he's strong."
"What kind of fire is that?"
Zenin didn't answer. He kept walking, one beast after another falling in silence. His movements were sharp, clean—lethal.
---
An hour passed. Seven students survived.
Zenin stood alone, untouched, the air around him thick with scorched fur and smoke.
When he returned to the surface, Master Qing's gaze lingered on him longer than the others.
"You... what is your name?" the old man asked.
"Zhen Zenin," he replied calmly.
Qing narrowed his eyes. "Interesting…"
---
That night, as the moon rose, Zenin stood outside the academy gates.
He had passed.
But he didn't smile.
He looked to the stars and whispered, "This was nothing. The real prey still breathes."
---