Li Wei's return to his cave is a silent journey under the moon's watchful eye. Once inside, he settles into the sparse comfort of his stone dwelling. Sleep, once again, proves elusive.
The break of dawn is still hours away when the cacophony of bells shatters the night's tranquillity. Li Wei stirs, the sound piercing the remnants of his slumber. There's no mistaking their urgency; the day of the sect assessment has arrived. Rising from his simple bedding, he braces himself for what's to come.
Li Wei steps outside as the first hints of dawn touch the sky.
Individual disciples emerge from their caves dotted across the mountainside, each joining the same worn path, their solitary figures merging into a stream flowing toward the mountain's base. The sheer number of caves carved into the rock like a honeycomb speaks to the vast size of the sect, each housing a disciple with aspirations and fears facing the day's trial. The bells continue their resonant call, echoing off the stone, leading them downward.
As Li Wei descends the mountain with the others, the air fills with desperate calls from strangers. A young man not far ahead, strained with urgency, calls out, "Anyone, please! I need only one bone pill to break through!" No one Li Wei can see responds; they all press forward, eyes ahead.
Further down the path, a woman's voice, sharp with panic, cut through the morning stillness. "Can no one spare a pill? Please I'll suck your cock" she cries, her plea fading into the murmurs of the crowd. Li Wei doesn't know her or the ones she calls to, lost in a sea of unfamiliar names and faces.
Li Wei walks in unison with the others, their footfalls a collective rhythm on the stone path. Around him, the mountain breathes a cool morning breeze, carrying the subtle scents of earth and dew. The throng of disciples moves with a shared tension.
Li Wei arrives at the plaza, where the loud bell rings. The area, usually full of busy market stalls, is quiet and empty. All the shops are closed, and no one buys or sells anything. Everyone is here for the assessment, not for shopping. The empty stalls make the plaza seem larger and the event even more important. Li Wei looks around at the other disciples, all waiting for what comes next.
Alone by the still-ringing bell, Li Wei watches as the multitude of outer disciples begin to organise themselves. They start forming four distinct lines across the plaza without any spoken command. It's an orderly process honed by tradition.
He steps into one of the lines, becoming part of the long snake of disciples that stretches back towards the mountain path. There are thousands like him, each a solitary figure in the sect, yet part of this vast collective today. No one speaks; the only sound is the bell and the shuffle of feet as they find their places.
Li Wei takes his spot and looks ahead, waiting for the next phase of this critical day to unfold. Everyone knows the importance of what is about to happen, and the air is thick with tension and silent prayers for success.
The plaza falls silent as two figures descend from the sky. Li Wei, like the others, cranes his neck upward. They are Elders of the Golden Core stage.
As the two elders descend, the disciple before Li Wei taps his friend before him.
"There's Elder Guan, with the bone wings arched like scythes," he whispers, drawing a line in the air with his finger to mimic the distinctive shape.
"And alongside him, that's Elder Shen, with the silver streak in his hair," his friend adds, eyes wide in admiration.
Li Wei takes note of the unique silhouette of Elder Guan's wings, etching itself into his memory as a symbol of power and status within the sect.
With powerful strokes, bone wings carry them downwards, an awe-inspiring sight that embodies the might of the sect. As they land, the ground thuds under the weight of their presence. Behind them, approximately a hundred skeletons march in formation, their hollow steps echoing on the stone ground.
Li Wei picks up the elders' names from the scattered conversations of fellow disciples, his ears catching the revered titles with a mix of fear and reverence. The sight of the bone wings, a symbol of high cultivation, etches into his memory as a goal to aspire to. The skeletons, meanwhile, stand as silent sentinels, enforcing the order of the day with their presence.
The skeletons stand sentinel by the lines of disciples. Their bony fingers seem almost too delicate to be lethal. Tension knots the atmosphere as a few skeletons shuffle forward, their movements causing an ominous scrape against the stone floor. They bearly bear a massive cauldron, its iron surface etched with ancient runes, a dark abyss waiting to be filled. The sight sends a shiver down Li Wei's spine, a primal reaction to the unknown fate it represents. The disciples' whispers die as the cauldron is placed before them, the quiet now heavy with dread.
An Elder stands before the gathered disciples, his voice resonating across the plaza. "I am Elder Guan," he announces, his tone carrying the weight of his rank and experience. "The sect assessment will now begin. Each of you, when your turn comes, must face the direct disciple in front of you."
His words hang in the air, commanding and absolute. Then, he turns his gaze to a group of direct disciples, his next instruction chilling. "Find and eliminate any outer disciple rat who has failed to attend," he orders.
Elder Guan's voice thunders across the plaza; Li Wei feels it in his chest, the sound echoing like an army of drums pounding against his ribs. It's an almost supernatural sensation, the elder's voice carrying a volume that should be impossible. Yet, it cuts through the morning air with piercing clarity. Li Wei can't help but be awed by its sheer power, aware that this is a display of cultivation beyond mere physical strength.
The direct disciples respond with startling agility as Elder Guan's command cuts through the air. They dart off at inhuman speeds, their movements a blur to Li Wei's eyes. Each moves, fanning out in every direction to enforce the elder's decree.
The sound of their swift footsteps is barely discernible. It's a display of their advanced cultivation.
Knowing these direct disciples are the elite, Li Wei watches their capabilities and knows instinctively that they are far beyond those of inner disciples.
The plaza is thick with tension as Li Wei and the others wait, the seriousness of their situation underscored by Elder Guan's directives.
In the middle of the line, Li Wei can't see what's happening at the front where the assessments are taking place. The disciples ahead of him form an impenetrable wall; all he can see are the backs of heads. The air is tense with anticipation and the shared anxiety of hundreds of outer disciples.
Whispers and rumours rippled back, but nothing concrete reached Li Wei to ease the uncertainty. He stands in patient wait, shuffling forward as the line inches along, the cool stone of the plaza under his feet.
He knows his turn will come, but not knowing how the direct disciples judge the levels adds a layer of unease. He watches and waits, his mind alert to any scraps of information that might drift back to his ears.
As Li Wei edges closer to the front of the line, the plaza's vastness becomes increasingly apparent, and the crowd appears less dense. With each step forward, the reality of what is occurring at the front becomes clearer.
Most pass unscathed.
But in the distance, he sees a disciple who looks scared and is begging, "Please, I just need more time!" The disciple's voice, filled with fear, reached Li Wei faintly.
Some skeletal enforcers, their bony forms visible even from far away, came. Li Wei couldn't see everything they did up close, but he could tell that the disciple tried unsuccessfully to escape them.
The enforcers quickly picked up the disciple and threw him into a big cauldron without any ceremony. It happened too fast for Li Wei to see all the little details. The disciple's screams were not very loud from a distance, but he could still hear them.
After that, he sees a few other unlucky disciples being sporadically grabbed by the skeletal enforcers and thrown into the giant cauldron. Their screams pierce through the crowd's murmurs.
Li Wei watches, heart pounding, as the skeletons handle the disciples with a cold efficiency that belies their lifeless nature. A collective shudder runs through the line each time a disciple is thrown in. Li Wei can almost feel the heat emanating from the cauldron, a reminder of the consequences of failure here.
Despite the fear, he keeps moving forward, compelled by the sect's strict progression rituals. The knowledge that his own assessment looms near does little to ease the knot of anxiety in his stomach. He can only hope that his cultivation level will be enough to save him from a similar fate.
Li Wei's thoughts churn as he waits in line. "Every two years, we prove ourselves," he muses, "one level per year, that's the rule." He's been with the sect for four years now, at the fifth level—a good standing, technically. "I should be safe," he reassures himself, but doubt remains. "In the sect, certainty is a luxury," he reflects. "Who knows what they might do?" The rules are clear, but there's always the whisper of unpredictability in the sect's ways. "Just have to wait and see," he concludes.
In the quiet of his mind, Li Wei knows his vulnerability. "If those skeletons come for me, I've no defence," he thinks. His bone blade, his only tool for defence, lies back in his cave. Not that it would offer much protection against an elder's might. He laments his lack of techniques and the gaps in his arsenal. "All I have is my level, my progress," he reminds himself. "It must be enough." The possibility of being thrown into the cauldron is real, but his advancement should spare him that fate. "Should," he thinks again, the word echoing with uncertainty.