As the sun cast its golden rays upon the gathering disciples, the competition commenced. Days of fruitless investigation had halted mine and Lin Jian's pursuit, yet it made us more resolute.
On the 25th of November, a time-honored tradition unfolded. The high-ranked disciples gathered to showcase their prowess before the youth of the sect. It was an occasion not merely to exhibit raw power, but to inspire and foster camaraderie.
As I stood amidst the sea of spectators, fate took a turn. To my astonishment, Lin Jian, stepped forward and volunteered for a daunting challenge: to face three seniors from different factions, each with their own formidable abilities. Instant seniority awaited him if he emerged victorious.
A murmur of disbelief rippled through the crowd. My dear friend, Mei, pleaded with him in hushed tones, "Lin Jian, reconsider. The risks are too great." her voice laced with concern. But Lin Jian remained undeterred, "I will prove myself," he declared, eyes burning with an unwavering determination that belied his youthful appearance.
He declared his intent to compete for instant seniority, a bold statement that sent shivers down my spine.
"I accept," came a deep voice from the Jade Weavers' section. I recognized the voice instantly it was Bai Lin, Master Xinyue's right-hand, a formidable opponent known for his unwavering discipline and lightning-fast reflexes.
A hush fell over the crowd as a beautiful woman, her eyes sparkling with admiration, rose from the Shadow Walkers' section. " I, Li Yang, will be his second opponent," she announced, her voice as smooth as velvet. "Lin Jian, you have my respect."
I hesitated, a flicker of concern battling with a surge of excitement. This was a gamble, a dangerous path for a junior to tread. Yet, Lin Jian had a spark, a raw talent that burned brighter than any other. And I, driven by a desire to test his mettle, found myself stepping forward.
"You intend to test me, Senior," Lin Jian said, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
Master Xinyue, his voice echoing through the stadium, declared, "Lin Jian has chosen to compete for instant seniority. Therefore, all wounds inflicted, even death, are within the bounds of this competition."
The stage was set. Three seasoned warriors, stood ready to face a young disciple who dared to challenge them. The battle for instant seniority, a gamble with high stakes, had just begun.
Lin Jian, a usually amiable friend , stood on the podium, a shadow of his usual self. Bai Lin's brows furrowed in concentration, and Li Yang, a mischievous glint in her eyes, mirrored the tension. The battle began, Lin Jian moving with a calculated slowness that belied the ferocity hidden beneath.
Then, in a flash, he struck. The attack, swift and precise, came from an angle none of us had anticipated. I threw myself into the fray, using every ounce of strength I possessed to deflect his strike with my peridot sword. But it was a futile effort. Lin Jian was a whirlwind, a force of nature I had never witnessed before. He moved with a grace and power that bordered on the supernatural.
I was left panting, my limbs burning with exertion, my heart thrumming with a mixture of frustration and admiration. It was like facing a stranger, an entirely different Lin Jian. I saw Bai Lin, his face contorted with annoyance, and Li Yang, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips, relishing this unexpected display of power.
The battle raged on, a dance of skill and strategy. Lin Jian, finally, emerged victorious, his victory earned in a whirlwind of strikes and parries. Exhausted but exhilarated, we all offered our congratulations, acknowledging his strength.
Master Xinyue, his eyes twinkling with amusement, approached Lin Jian. You have proven yourself, Lin Jian. Now, choose your faction.
Lin Jian's brow furrowed in thought, looked at the three factions: Prime Artisan, Shadow Walker, and Jade Weaver. The Prime Artisan, known for their craftsmanship and strategic genius, held a strong appeal. But then, Li Yang, her voice smooth and seductive, spoke. "Shadow Walker, Lin Jian. You'd be unstoppable with their speed and agility. I promise to take you good care of you."
I remained silent, allowing Lin Jian to make his own decision. He met my gaze, his eyes a storm of uncertainty. I could see the unspoken question in his eyes, the plea for my opinion. But I held firm, my silence a testament to my belief in his ability to choose his own path.
He hesitated, then, with a sigh, took a step towards the Jade Weaver banner. "Jade Weaver, Master," he declared, his voice quiet but resolute.
It was a decision born of compromise, a calculated move to avoid offense. He chose a path that would keep the peace, a path that avoided choosing sides.
"You did it, Lin Jian! Amazing performance!"
"That was incredible! You were unstoppable!"
The roar of the crowd washed over me, a symphony of cheers and applause. I sat at the edge of the cheering throng, the vibrant energy around me a sharp contrast to the quiet churning in my chest. Lin Jian, bathed in the warmth of the celebration, was the hero of the day. And I, his silent shadow, was content to watch.
But beneath the surface, a different kind of excitement bubbled. I reached for the hilt of my sword, the cool metal reassuring in my hand. It was still rough, its shape only vaguely defined, but a faint green glow emanated from its core. The peridot stone, nestled within its heart, was pulsating with a life of its own.
"It's starting," I whispered, a thrill running down my spine. Pulling myself from the crowd, I made my way back to my quarters.
The silence of my room was a blessed relief. I carefully placed the sword on the altar, a small platform I'd prepared for this very moment. I watched as the glow intensified, the edges of the sword sharpening, the hilt beginning to take form. It was a slow, mesmerizing process, the peridot stone's energy weaving its magic.
"It's... happening," I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper. I knew it was possible. The peridot stone, a fragment of an ancient artifact, held within it the power to transform. A human, bound to its essence.
I spent the next few days watching over the sword, a constant observer of the transformation. I would sit before it, my mind quiet, my heart filled with a strange mixture of awe and trepidation.
"How do I speak to you?" I finally asked, my voice lost in the stillness of the room. "How do I understand?"
An unexpected warmth filled the room, the green glow intensifying. The sword vibrated, a low hum reverberating through the chamber. It was a response, an acknowledgement.
And suddenly, I knew. I didn't need words. I needed to listen. To feel. To wait.