The summons arrived at midnight.
Not through a disciple.
Not through an elder.
A black-edged jade slip appeared silently on Kael's table, its surface cold to the touch.
Kael opened his eyes.
He hadn't sensed anyone enter.
"That's new," he murmured.
He picked up the slip.
It pulsed once.
Then information flowed.
Invitation:
— Event: Border Trial of the Five Sects
— Location: Crushing Ridge
— Purpose: Evaluation & Selection
— Requirement: Inner Disciple or Above
— Mandatory Attendance: Recommended
Kael exhaled slowly.
"Recommended," he repeated.
That word never meant optional.
By morning, the inner mountain buzzed with tension.
Not everyone received an invitation.
Only twelve inner disciples.
Kael's name sat at the top.
Rovan found him near the Pressure Hall.
"So it's real," Rovan said quietly. "The Border Trial."
Mira crossed her arms nearby. "Five sects. No rules that matter."
Kael nodded. "High mortality."
Mira looked at him sharply. "You still plan to go."
Kael didn't answer.
He simply started walking.
The elders' hall was already filled.
This time, outsiders were present.
Three figures sat calmly among the elders, their auras restrained but oppressive.
Sect envoys.
One wore white with gold embroidery.
One wore dark blue, eyes like still water.
The last wore black, his presence sharp and unpleasant.
Kael felt it immediately.
Pressure.
Not directed.
Measured.
The black-robed envoy smiled faintly when Kael entered.
"So this is him," he said. "The heavy one."
Kael met his gaze without reacting.
Elder Mo spoke first. "The Border Trial is dangerous."
"Necessary," the white-robed envoy corrected. "Talent like this cannot remain isolated."
The blue-robed envoy studied Kael carefully. "Half-Tempered Body… interesting."
Kael stood straight.
"I'll go," he said.
Several elders stiffened.
Elder Mo closed her eyes briefly.
"You understand," she said, "that the sect cannot fully protect you there."
Kael nodded. "I don't expect it to."
The black-robed envoy laughed softly.
"Good," he said. "Because the Ridge does not care who you belong to."
Preparations were swift.
No ceremony.
No encouragement.
Only resources.
Kael received a sealed box.
Inside—
One high-grade body tempering pill.
One pressure-inscribed talisman.
One simple warning.
Survive.
That night, Kael stood at the edge of the mountain.
He felt it now.
Eyes from different directions.
Different intentions.
Some curious.
Some greedy.
Some hostile.
The system activated quietly.
[External Trial Confirmed.]
— Environment: Extreme Pressure Zones
— Participant Quality: High
— Survival Rate Projection: Low
[Status:]
— Body Tempering: 50% (Stable)
— Authority: Minor Pressure Control
Kael clenched his fist.
The air trembled.
"I'm not ready," he admitted.
Then he relaxed.
"But I won't be light."
Behind him, Mira spoke suddenly.
"If you die," she said flatly, "I'll be annoyed."
Kael smiled faintly. "Then I won't."
Rovan nodded once. "Don't carry everything alone."
Kael looked toward the dark horizon.
"I won't," he said.
"I'll let the world press down on me."
The wind rose.
Somewhere far away, Crushing Ridge waited.
And the next weight—
was not the sect.
The departure formation activated before dawn.
Twelve figures stood on the platform, spaced apart by instinct rather than order.
Kael felt it immediately.
Difference.
The pressure around each cultivator varied—some sharp, some vast, some barely restrained.
No one spoke.
A trial did not begin at the destination.
It began here.
As the formation rose into the sky, a young man in white glanced at Kael.
"Half-Tempered," he said casually. "You'll attract attention."
Kael replied calmly, "So will you."
The man laughed once and turned away.
The journey took half a day.
The air grew thinner.
Heavier.
Mountains gave way to jagged ridges layered like broken blades.
Crushing Ridge appeared on the horizon.
A vast stone spine stretching across the land, wrapped in clouds that moved against the wind.
Pressure radiated from it even at a distance.
Several disciples swallowed unconsciously.
"This place…" one whispered. "It's alive."
Kael watched silently.
His body responded instinctively.
Void Tempering stirred.
Not violently.
Eagerly.
The formation landed at the outer boundary.
Massive stone pillars marked the entrance, engraved with ancient runes worn smooth by time.
Figures already waited.
Dozens of them.
Different robes.
Different sect symbols.
Different pressure signatures.
Kael felt it clearly now.
This was not a trial of skill.
It was a trial of weight.
A deep voice echoed across the ridge.
"Participants," it said. "Enter at your own risk."
"No interference from sect elders."
"No guaranteed return."
The pressure surged briefly, as if emphasizing the warning.
Several participants hesitated.
Then one stepped forward.
Then another.
Kael followed.
The moment he crossed the boundary—
the world changed.
Pressure slammed down from every direction, uneven and brutal.
Kael's boots sank slightly into the stone.
Others stumbled.
Some fell to one knee immediately.
Kael did not stop.
He adjusted.
[Environment Recognized:]
— Crushing Ridge
— Pressure Type: Chaotic
— Density Gradient: Extreme
[Void Tempering Response:]
— Passive Assimilation Active
Kael's breathing slowed.
Each step felt like moving through deep water.
He advanced steadily.
To his side, a cultivator with blazing Qi flared his aura, forcing pressure away violently.
Kael shook his head slightly.
"That won't last."
Ahead, screams echoed faintly.
The ridge was already claiming its price.
Kael stopped briefly and looked upward.
The clouds above twisted slowly, compressing and expanding like a massive lung.
He understood.
"This place doesn't crush you all at once," he murmured.
"It teaches you how heavy you really are."
His body hummed softly.
He stepped forward again.
Behind him, the boundary faded.
Ahead—
only pressure.
Only survival.