Exquisite Seven Treasures Sagol, a masterpiece crafted by the talented hands of the masters of the Seven Profound Valleys, stood as a tribute to artistry. Its construction materials, shrouded in mystery and originating beyond the bounds of the Starlight Haven Kingdom, caught the sun's rays, transforming them into a cascade of shimmering gem-like colours.
Ascending seven levels, each floor bore intricate engravings, concealing within them the arcane artistry of a magic array.
Yet, this array held a sinister quality, distinct from the imaginary charms of the jade platform. Here, within the Exquisite Sagol, illusions had the power to slay. Those caught in its phantasmal embrace risked certain death.
However, this dire threat was confined to the entrance examination alone; no true life was forfeit within these walls. Instead, those bested would find themselves expelled from the conjured realm.
Scarce were the treasures permitted within these halls, mundane arms alone gracing the grasp of hopefuls. Success here was to be determined by raw prowess and skill.
Time wore on, each flicker of light announcing another soul's defeat. Of the hundred who embarked on this trial, sixty, perhaps seventy percent, met their untimely end. Among them, even a Third Stage Body Transformation adept succumbed.
His demeanour sagged in defeat as the Dream Trial relinquished its hold on the martial artist. This marked his third attempt at the Seven Profound Martial House's entrance examination and the last. Eighteen years weighed upon him, his final chance slipping through his grasp.
Within half an hour, a second contender on the jade stage stirred. With a protracted exhale, he rose, legs trembling, pallor clinging to his visage, revealing the high-fourth-grade talent Oliver.
Turning, he sought the towering figure and Sam, the duo that had eclipsed him in the Strength Trial. Only the tragic giant met his gaze; Sam was absent. A smug grin curled Oliver's lips.
Yet, when he entered the lounge, his jubilation was cut short by the sight of Sam, deep in meditation. His countenance darkened. He had assumed Sam's elimination, never fathoming the youth's early triumph in the Dream Trial.
This wily fellow!
Oliver sensed the ominous shadow of competition looming.
Without pause, he sought out his entourage, voice lowered to a conspiratorial murmur. "Discover what we can about this contender."
Sam was well aware of Oliver's hostility against him. Only one could take first place in this crucible of competition.
Gradually, the lounge swelled with participants, marking the close of the second trial.
A mere ninety-two emerged unscathed of the candidates who ventured into this Dream Trial. Nearly ninety percent met their end.
For those who narrowly survived, respite was not granted; the final crucible awaited, a gateway to the hallowed ranks of the Seven Profound Martial House. Succeed, and their toil would bear fruit. Falter and all prior striving would crumble to naught.
"The third trial — The Exquisite Sagol."
A resounding proclamation pierced the air.
Overseeing this trial was a middle-aged figure, unassuming in appearance yet radiating a palpable gravitas. Sam, discerning eyes honed by his own problems, identified a master, perhaps even of the Houtian stage.
Sam mused on the prevalence of such accomplished practitioners, an uncommon sight before he arrived at the Seven Profound Martial House. Five, even six Houtian masters, he had now encountered.
It was a natural distribution. The Imperial Palace and Warlord Haven in the Starlight Haven Kingdom rarely housed Houtian masters. They gathered here, under the Seven Profound Martial House territory, representatives from realms beyond the Starlight Haven Kingdom, students of the Seven Profound Valleys.
"Follow me," the middle-aged instructor commanded, striding forth.
Ninety-two hopefuls trailed behind, and the privileged few were allowed to witness the trials. These onlookers hailed from nobility or counted among the martial house's students.
The instructor's measured yet swift gait demanded the contenders' skill to keep pace.
After a span similar to a hearty repast, they arrived at a valley within the Calin Mountains. A magnificent edifice stood, its plaque bearing the weighty inscription 'Seven Profound Martial Pavilion'.
Entering, they encountered a towering structure, the Seven Treasures Exquisite Sagol, its height a testament to its name. Seven floors, each towering thirty feet, dwarfed any form Sam had encountered prior. The grandest temple in Green Mulberry City paled in comparison, matching a single level of this wondrous Sagol.
"Now, you may enter. There's no time constraint; passage through the first floor suffices. The second floor is commendable, the third floor remarkable. The fourth, for prodigies. As for the fifth..." the instructor tantalized, a sly smile dancing upon his lips. "Well, let's just say, it's a realm most find unattainable."
These words spurred skepticism among some youths, an expression Oliver met with a sneer. How naive to deem the Exquisite Sagol a mere walkover.
The Seven Profound Martial House entrance exam comprised three trials: foundational assessment, heart's mettle, and this, the crux—a practical gauge of martial prowess and innate brilliance.
Within the Exquisite Sagol lay a lethal array, adversaries of varied strengths awaiting. Bone age determined the challenge, with older contenders facing fiercer foes.
A sole individual ascended to the fifth floor—a feat attributed not to elder brother Jadely of the Heavenly Abode but to a seemingly demure soul, Hen Portia.
A sixth-grade talent—no laughing matter. Hen Portia's cultivation was veiled in mystery, but Oliver was privy. She stood at the pinnacle of the Fourth Stage of Body Cultivation, rivalling Jadely while trailing him by half a decade in age.
No stranger to conceit, Oliver harboured no delusions of outmatching Hen Portia.
The fourth floor was his goal.
Surveying the Exquisite Sagol, determination surged within Oliver. The prior trials, confined and empty, had stifled his potential. Here, the third trial, he'd unveil his true strength, seizing the world's gaze and etching his name in history.
"Enter! Your age dictates the challenge," the instructor declared, a wave of his hand unsealing the sagol's gate.
Beyond the arch, brilliance emanated. Sam inhaled deeply, crossing the threshold.
Elsewhere, Hen Portia observed. Her gaze lingered on Sam, a blush gracing her cheeks. The question from her mentor brought her eyes low. "Portia can't hold a candle to Sam's skill in inscriptions. But in combat... I may have a slight edge."
"Indeed. Sam's combat prowess lags behind you, Hen Portia. To what floor do you think he'll ascend?"
"Well, by conventional standards, a fifteen-year-old at the Second Stage of Body Transformation would struggle. But Sam's strength far exceeds the norm. I believe the third floor may be within his reach." Her estimation was generous; for Sam to reach the third floor, he'd need to attain the Third Stage of Body Transformation.
"You're correct, but... I have a feeling Sam might spring a pleasant surprise."
Unbeknownst to Sam, these conversations buzzed around him. He had reached the heart of the killing array.
As he stepped within, his fellow candidates vanished, leaving only him in a desolate realm.
The darkness enveloped him, stars studding the night sky above, the ground a complex obsidian canvas. A miasmic haze coalesced into a shadowy figure not far distant—a warrior wielding a staff.
"Is this my adversary?" Sam mused, assessing his foe's early Second Stage Body Transformation.
A fifteen-year-old was paired against a second-stage opponent based on their age. Sam prepared himself. His slender body burst forth like a desperate leopard, packed strength rushing through his veins. His first strike was fatal.
-Boom!