Within the second floor of the stone tower,
the lantern light flickered softly.
Shī Tóngbǎi and Xuán Chén were speaking in low voices,
debating whether they should wait for Xiǎo Chén
before attempting to explore the third floor together.
Footsteps echoed up the stairway.
Xiǎo Chén had already ascended in silence,
appearing at the entrance of the second floor.
But his expression was different—
his brows tightly furrowed,
as though a mountain had been pressed into his heart.
Xuán Chén looked toward him.
"Xiǎo Chén, what happened?"
Shī Tóngbǎi grinned, trying to lighten the mood.
"Senior brother, what could possibly make you look like that?"
Xiǎo Chén did not answer immediately.
He simply stood there,
silent for a moment,
before slowly recounting everything—
his encounter with Yǔxī,
and the conversation with Xuānyuán Dié.
His words were calm,
but the weight beneath them was unmistakable.
When he finished,
his gaze sharpened,
his voice low but unwavering.
"I want to surpass Root Mark Completion within two years…
and even step into the Sense Mark Realm.
This is my pact—with myself, and with fate.
Do you have any advice?"
The air in the room froze.
Shī Tóngbǎi stared at him, stunned.
Then he sucked in a sharp breath.
"Senior brother… under normal circumstances,
that's completely impossible!
You're not talking about one or two small realms—
you're talking about leaping an entire major realm!"
He paused,
then added in a quieter voice—
"But… given your situation…
it might not be entirely impossible."
Xuán Chén's gaze deepened as he spoke slowly.
"Shī Tóngbǎi is right.
You might be able to do it.
First—your rapid growth comes from the fact that you once fell into demonic deviation.
Now that you can suppress the loss of control,
that power, if turned into your own,
will become your most terrifying trump card.
Second—your progress is tied to the strength of your opponents.
If you want to force out your potential,
you must spar with those above your level.
Not to the death—
but strong enough to push you forward."
Xiǎo Chén listened,
and suddenly the corner of his mouth lifted
into a mischievous smile.
Shī Tóngbǎi's heart tightened.
Oh no…
That expression…
He's definitely about to cause trouble again.
Xuán Chén saw it too
and couldn't help but laugh.
"You brat.
What scheme did you just come up with?"
But Xiǎo Chén's smile cooled instantly.
His tone was calm—
yet carried a blade‑edge of resolve.
"Isn't there someone perfect to practice on right now?
The White‑Mirror Society,
those Silver Mirror disciples…
aren't they exactly what I need?"
He turned toward Shī Tóngbǎi,
a quiet sharpness flickering in his eyes.
"Didn't they beat you half to death before?
We settled half that debt for you.
The other half—
it's time to collect."
The three were whispering over their revenge plan
when suddenly a loud, booming shout
erupted from outside the stone tower—
"Xiǎo Chén! Xuán Chén! Shī Tóngbǎi!
You three—get down here!"
The voice cut through the night wind,
even startling two roosting birds into flight.
The trio froze,
then moved to the window and peeked out.
Not far below,
Dù Jīnzá stood with arms crossed,
face full of impatience as he waved at them.
Shī Tóngbǎi tilted his head.
"That's strange.
Why isn't he coming up?"
Xiǎo Chén simply called down,
"Chief Dù, why don't you come upstairs?"
Dù Jīnzá's face flushed bright red.
He roared back,
"Can't you just come down when I call you?
Do I have to personally climb up there?
Should I bring tribute while I'm at it?!"
The three exchanged looks,
all wearing the same speechless expression.
"Let's go," Xuán Chén said calmly.
They descended together.
Halfway down, Xiǎo Chén suddenly lowered his voice,
muttering almost to himself—
"Could it be…
he can't come up?"
Xuán Chén and Shī Tóngbǎi froze,
glancing at each other—
the possibility was very real.
When they stepped out of the stone tower,
Dù Jīnzá immediately strode toward them—
but stopped dead
three zhang away from the tower's boundary.
Sweat glistened at his temples.
Xiǎo Chén raised a brow, testing him.
"Chief Dù, why didn't you come up?"
Dù Jīnzá snorted,
but the fear in his eyes was impossible to hide.
"You still don't understand?
This Sword‑Star Stone Tower is one of the Academy's restricted grounds.
Anyone who isn't a sword cultivator,
or lacks certain innate traits,
cannot enter at all!"
He jabbed a finger at his own throat,
face twisted in discomfort.
"Hmph!
Getting close to that cursed place
feels like having a sword pressed against my neck!
You think I want to stand down here shouting?
If I force myself up there,
you'll be watching me cough blood on the spot!"
Xiǎo Chén, Xuán Chén, and Shī Tóngbǎi exchanged glances—
all quietly shaken.
So it really was the sword intent surrounding the tower.
Even someone as battle‑hardened as Dù Jīnzá
couldn't withstand it.
Shī Tóngbǎi shivered, swallowing hard.
"So that's why…
you could only yell from below."
Xuán Chén's eyes darkened slightly.
"If this tower can repel others with sword intent,
then those who can enter
must resonate with the sword.
Perhaps this place truly is a trial
left behind for sword cultivators."
Xiǎo Chén heard this,
and a heavy pressure rose in his chest.
He thought of Yǔxī's words,
and of the vow he had made—
two years.
His fist tightened inside his sleeve.
The moment the three stepped out of the tower's boundary,
Dù Jīnzá let out a long breath—
as though he had just crawled out of deep water.
"Finally… I'm not being strangled by that sword aura anymore!"
He patted his chest, then forced a casual tone.
"You three—what were you doing hiding in that cursed place?
The whole academy is in chaos,
and you're here enjoying the breeze!"
Xiǎo Chén frowned.
"What happened?"
Dù Jīnzá rolled his eyes.
"If I came all the way here myself,
how could it possibly be good news?
The Silver Mirror Society and White‑Mirror Hall idiots
have been shouting all over the courtyard.
Your names came up—
they're demanding an explanation."
Shī Tóngbǎi's face went pale.
"No way…
Senior brother, we're really the center of attention now…"
But Xuán Chén remained calm,
his voice steady.
"What do they want us to explain?"
Dù Jīnzá spread his hands,
pretending to be relaxed.
"How should I know?
All I heard was a bunch of yelling—
'provocation,'
'disrespect,'
'must fight on stage,'
that sort of nonsense.
Their momentum is fierce.
If you don't show your faces,
you won't get a peaceful night."
Xiǎo Chén chuckled.
"What a coincidence.
I was just thinking about getting some sleep—
and someone brings me a pillow."
Dù Jīnzá's face darkened instantly.
His chest heaved as he snapped,
"Can you three stop killing or crippling people every other day?
This was a perfectly normal academy before you arrived!
How long has it been?
How many people have died?
How many needed special counseling from instructors
because of your last life‑and‑death duel?
At this rate,
are you planning to shut the academy down?
If you're so capable,
go fight Shěn Zǐyù or the Supreme Academy!
Why keep stirring trouble in your own pot?"
The words fell,
and Dù Jīnzá immediately regretted them.
He quickly glanced at Xiǎo Chén—
but Xiǎo Chén only stood there quietly,
expression calm,
no anger in sight.
Dù Jīnzá secretly exhaled in relief.
Shī Tóngbǎi muttered under his breath,
"Chief Dù… isn't entirely wrong…"
Xuán Chén cast a sidelong glance at Xiǎo Chén,
the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
This kid…
he's steadier than before.
Dù Jīnzá coughed awkwardly,
quickly steering the conversation back to business.
"Anyway—hurry and come to the courtyard with me.
If you don't, those idiots are going to break in!"
"Break in?"
Shī Tóngbǎi blinked.
Dù Jīnzá's face darkened.
"A bunch of fools with no eyes in their heads!
They're calling you three out by name,
shouting about justice and explanations.
I can't hold them off much longer.
If you keep dawdling,
they'll smash the gate down!"
The three exchanged glances—
each with their own thoughts.
Xiǎo Chén's smile faded,
his gaze turning cold.
"If they're delivering themselves to us…
all the better."
Xuán Chén and Shī Tóngbǎi shared a knowing grin.
No more words were needed.
The three walked out of the Sword‑Star Tower side by side,
moving toward the rising clamor outside.
As Dù Jīnzá led them into the inner courtyard
and opened his mouth to speak,
another voice cut sharply across the noise.
"I heard…
Xiǎo Chén—
that you can suppress your demonic state?"
A figure stepped out from the crowd—
Sītú Jìng, head of the Silver Mirror group.
His tone was gentle,
a faint smile on his lips,
yet the chill beneath it was unmistakable.
Xiǎo Chén actually laughed.
"And I heard, Leader Sītú,
that you sleep without pants.
Why don't you confirm it for us,
so we can all rest easy?"
The moment the words "sleep without pants" left his mouth,
the courtyard erupted.
Sītú Jìng's face darkened instantly,
his eyes turning icy.
Members of the White‑Mirror Hall snickered—
but quickly stifled their laughter,
not daring to be too obvious.
Xuán Chén stepped in smoothly,
his voice calm and unhurried.
"Senior Sītú, don't take offense.
Xiǎo Chén has always been straightforward—
I'm sure you've heard.
But since you came personally,
I doubt it's just for casual conversation."
Sītú Jìng fixed his gaze on Xuán Chén.
His tone remained cold,
but now carried a probing edge.
"Xuán Chén, you're the more composed one.
So let me ask you—
is the demonic state truly under control?
If not, the two of you are walking disasters.
Can the academy tolerate such a threat?"
Xuán Chén smiled lightly,
cold starlight flickering in his eyes.
"Senior, your words are strange.
Where in the academy rules does it say
'those who have fallen into deviation cannot remain'?
On the contrary—
the rules are clear:
life‑and‑death duels are binding; losers accept the outcome.
Your Silver Mirror disciples can't swallow their defeat,
so now you question the rules themselves?"
A sharp glint flashed in Sītú Jìng's eyes.
"Your very existence is outside common sense.
If you lose control one day and endanger the academy,
who will bear the consequences?"
Xuán Chén's expression did not change.
"If that day ever comes,
I, Xuán Chén,
will sever his demonic path myself.
But until then, Senior,
set aside these false worries.
Your disciple died in a duel—
that was his choice.
If you truly feel unwilling,
then propose another match.
Standing here interrogating us accomplishes nothing."
At that moment,
Dù Jīnzá finally snapped.
"Enough!
No more duels!
The Steward Office is not accepting any life‑and‑death applications.
Anyone caught fighting privately will be severely punished!"
Sītú Jìng remained unhurried,
cupping his hands politely.
"Chief Dù,
Silver Mirror has no intention of forcing a life‑and‑death match.
We merely wish to confirm
whether these two can control themselves—
so as not to tarnish the academy's reputation.
A simple sparring match, nothing more.
Please don't misunderstand."
Dù Jīnzá snorted,
his voice heavy yet echoing across the entire courtyard.
"Listen well!
From today onward,
for three months,
no challenges or duels are allowed in the inner academy!
Especially against newly admitted students—
no private fights whatsoever!
This is for the academy's order
and to give all of you time to cool your heads.
After three months,
the Steward Office will issue further notice.
Dismissed!"
The crowd erupted in murmurs,
but no one dared argue.
Sītú Jìng's eyes flashed with cold light—
quickly hidden.
As he turned away,
a thin, chilling smile curved at the corner of his lips.