Memory Passage 1:3
The mountain stood as firm as steel, barren like the seas, coveting the dark clouds. The man took a gamble to "dance" with the light, yet was struck upon his hands.
**"The night sky rapidly accelerated, shifting between a red sky and a starry one. It was as if days passed in an instant with each step I took. The screams behind me grew more desperate, yet also faded in my ears. Before I took my last step, time seemed to slow. A colorful river appeared beneath my feet. Suddenly, I was forced into a vast, profound sea. It was harsh, unfriendly — it did not want to recognize me.
I felt my lungs being overtaken by water. Before I knew it, I had lost consciousness."**
When he woke, his memory was fuzzy. His body ached. Around him, voices murmured — some whispering, others shouting.
"Hmph, a mere outsider resting in our quarters? You seek death!" said a youngster, reaching toward Falen's collar.
Falen coldly slapped his hand away and struck his throat with a swift, almost imperceptible chop. The youngster coughed violently, clutching his throat with both hands.
"You dare show aggression?!" shouted two more youngsters, likely emboldened by the first. They puffed out their chests, fists ready.
"Leave him be." A sudden voice echoed from outside the door. It opened gently, revealing a shadow gradually forming into a young man, perhaps in his early twenties. His features were sharp, his skin pale as snow. He wore light blue robes, exuding caution and elegance, a black belt fastened at his waist, a flute dangling at his side.
He walked slowly through the crowd, hands behind his back, stopping about three meters from Falen.
"Do you know where I found you?"
Falen didn't respond, nor did he glance at him. His situation still felt surreal.
"You were caught in a dream, a dream in the endless profound. The colorful lights shone brightly. You walked, and then all you felt was a cold hand gripping your back — and you were overtaken by the waves, right?"
Falen finally blinked, a flicker of recognition crossing his eyes. He mumbled before speaking:
"What is your purpose, Senior?"
"Purpose? To save you. Isn't that obvious enough?" The young man chuckled lightly and waved at Falen before leaving, dropping some medical supplies on the bed.
Falen realized the priority was his recovery.
It seems this person specifically saved me. He might have ulterior motives. I'll have to play my part for now.
After a while, Falen stood, the silk blanket slipping from his shoulders. His body was wrapped in bloody bandages from left hip to right shoulder. He walked slowly, dizzy.
A bright light pierced the trees — the sun. Not the warm, nostalgic sun of memory, but a harsh, unfamiliar light.
I must be far away. Wait… that river. Falen pondered. The area was completely different, with living people. How had he traveled so far to see another sky? That sea was mysterious. He would need to investigate — it could be crucial information.
Deep in thought, he was startled by a voice calling all disciples to the main entrance.
As he walked, he observed the dormitories — small to medium-sized, no civilians nearby. Odd, he thought. Civilians usually lived at the perimeters. Soon, a large crowd had formed.
Falen, unenthusiastic, stood alone outside the crowd, arms crossed, sleepy, almost dozing. His head tilted amusingly as he listened to one of the sect elders announce a test.
"Three days from now, you will meet at the foot of the mountain. Use this time to recuperate and prepare. This test will measure your aptitude and skill. Aptitude is useless without practicality. Those who please the sect with their capabilities will become inner disciples and receive direct guidance from—"
The elder gestured, and Falen recognized him — Wei, the one who had saved him. Upright, composed, he nodded before returning to his position.
Mountain? Strange. I never noticed this mountain. It's not visible from above. It must serve a purpose.
As he gazed up at the towering shadow, lightning cracked across the sky. Lightning Peak!
He recalled the silver mirror memories: only the name, nothing more. The mountain was special, a test for sect qualifications, possibly hiding deeper secrets.
Three Days Later at Noon
The disciples gathered at the mountain's base, forming groups in anticipation. The elder appeared, smiling, pointing to the peak without words.
Others immediately realized his intent:
"The Senior Elder wants us to climb and reach the peak. There are three translucent pouches at the top. Whoever obtains one earns a winning place."
Excitement erupted among the youngsters.
Typical reaction, Falen thought. They panic, driven by greed. But there's no rush — the elder never mentioned a timeframe. Logic suggests the climb is deadly. Multiple paths exist; once you enter, leaving is impossible before completion.
Only four others remained beside him. One, younger than most, around 15, wore a black eye cloth and had a deep scar from his left eye to his lip. He rested on a boulder, holding a walking stick. Two others played chess nearby, likely more experienced with the exam.
Falen observed silently, noting the approaching storm. Winds grew harsh, clouds darkened, and lightning struck at lethal intervals. Many climbers were wiped out before reaching halfway.
Falen's eyes narrowed. He snickered.
"Impatient fools."
He formulated a theory: the mountain's core mechanism. Peaks, ridges, frozen spires, and buried crystal veins acted as natural charge nodes, accumulating energy from storm winds and snow friction. Once a node reached a threshold, it discharged lightning.
He watched the ice crystals closely — a white, shiny luster indicated imminent strikes, starting from a faint blue glow and deepening gradually. Timing was critical; a single misstep could be fatal. After hours of observation, his theory proved correct.
"The core veins are more concentrated at the top."
The Next Day
"It's time." Falen stood before the mountain, small in its shadow. The remaining three followed him. The storm had calmed, ensuring natural lightning would not interfere with his observations.