The early morning mist hung low over the training grounds of the Flameborne Sect. A faint orange glow lit the horizon as the sun prepared to rise, but the sect was already alive with activity. Disciples, both new and experienced, practiced forms, meditated, and sparred in preparation for the challenges that awaited them.
For Yan Rui, the dawn marked the beginning of his second day in the sect. The previous night had been restless—his body ached from the intense heat of the Inferno Cavern, but his mind was sharp and focused. The spiritual energy he had absorbed in the cavern was still coursing through him, burning away the weaknesses of his frail body. It was as though a fire had been lit within his very soul, one that refused to be extinguished.
He sat cross-legged on the hard wooden floor of his small quarters, his hands resting lightly on his knees as he practiced the Flame Foundation Breathing Technique, a basic cultivation method provided to all new disciples. The technique was simple compared to the advanced arts of the sect, but it was essential for stabilizing one's foundation.
"Inhale… absorb the energy… circulate it through the meridians…" Yan Rui muttered to himself, his eyes closed in concentration.
The Ember Vein Constitution within him stirred, amplifying the spiritual energy he drew in. He could feel his body becoming slightly stronger, his senses keener. But it wasn't enough. He needed more. He needed to grow faster if he was to survive in the cutthroat world of the Flameborne Sect.
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A loud knock on his door broke his concentration. Yan Rui opened his eyes and rose to his feet, stretching his sore limbs before answering. Standing outside was Fei Yue, her sharp eyes scanning him briefly before speaking.
"Senior Disciple Zhao Yi wants us on the training grounds. He's going to test us again," she said curtly.
"Another test already?" Yan Rui asked, surprised.
Fei Yue nodded. "The sect doesn't coddle its disciples. If you're not ready, you'll be eliminated. You should know that by now."
Yan Rui didn't need further convincing. He grabbed his outer disciple robe and followed her to the training grounds, where the rest of Group Seven was already assembled.
Senior Disciple Zhao Yi stood at the center of the group, his hands clasped behind his back as he observed them with a stern expression. His presence exuded authority, and none of the recruits dared to speak out of turn.
"You survived the Inferno Cavern," Zhao Yi began, his voice cold and unwavering. "That was your first trial. Now it's time to test your adaptability in combat."
Combat. The word sent a ripple of unease through the group. Most of them were still novices, unfamiliar with the martial techniques of the sect. Even Lin Zhan, who usually carried himself with bravado, looked uncertain.
Zhao Yi raised his hand, and a dozen wooden dummies rose from the ground, each adorned with scorch marks and deep gouges from previous training sessions. "These are no ordinary dummies," he explained. "Each is inscribed with fire arrays that will simulate attacks. Your task is to last three minutes against one of them. Fail, and you'll face my punishment."
Yan Rui's heart sank. He had no combat experience—his life in Ember Village had been spent chopping wood, not learning martial arts. But he clenched his fists and steadied his resolve. He couldn't afford to show weakness.
"Lin Zhan, you're first," Zhao Yi called.
The burly young man stepped forward, his jaw set in determination. He drew a basic iron saber provided by the sect and faced the dummy. Zhao Yi waved his hand, and the fire array activated. The dummy came to life, its wooden limbs moving with surprising speed as it launched a barrage of fiery strikes at Lin Zhan.
To his credit, Lin Zhan managed to hold his ground for a time, parrying and dodging as best he could. But after two minutes, the dummy's relentless assault overwhelmed him, and he was knocked to the ground.
"Two minutes," Zhao Yi announced, his tone neutral. "Next."
One by one, the recruits faced the dummies. Most barely lasted a minute before succumbing to the fiery attacks. Fei Yue performed slightly better, her agility allowing her to evade for nearly three minutes before being struck.
Finally, it was Yan Rui's turn. He stepped forward, his palms sweaty but his gaze steady. The dummy before him was charred and battered, but it radiated an oppressive heat that made the air around it shimmer.
"Begin," Zhao Yi commanded.
The dummy moved instantly, its wooden arm swinging toward Yan Rui in a wide arc. He barely dodged in time, the heat from the strike singing the edge of his robe. His mind raced as he tried to find a strategy. The dummy was faster and stronger than him, and he had no weapon to defend himself.
Then he remembered the Flame Foundation Breathing Technique. The method wasn't just for cultivation—it also allowed for better control of the body under intense conditions.
Yan Rui inhaled deeply, focusing his mind as he sidestepped another attack. He could feel the heat flowing around him, a chaotic force that he began to sync with. As the dummy launched another strike, he moved with it, using its momentum to slide out of harm's way.
The recruits watching murmured in surprise. Yan Rui's movements were unrefined but effective, a stark contrast to the clumsy dodges of the others.
For two minutes, he managed to evade the dummy's relentless attacks, but his stamina was waning. Sweat poured down his face, and his legs felt like lead. He needed to do more than just survive—he needed to fight back.
Gathering his remaining strength, Yan Rui lunged forward, using the dummy's overextended strike to his advantage. He delivered a powerful kick to its midsection, disrupting its balance. Though it didn't cause any damage, it bought him precious seconds to recover.
When Zhao Yi finally called time, Yan Rui collapsed to the ground, panting heavily but alive.
"Three minutes," Zhao Yi announced, a hint of approval in his tone. "Not bad for a first attempt."
Yan Rui's chest swelled with a mix of exhaustion and pride. He had passed the test, but he knew this was only a small victory. The path of cultivation was long and arduous, and he had barely taken his first steps.
As the group dispersed, Lin Zhan shot him a glare. "Don't get cocky, cripple. You just got lucky."
Yan Rui met his gaze calmly. "Luck favors the prepared."
Lin Zhan scowled but said nothing, stomping away in frustration.
Fei Yue approached Yan Rui, offering a rare smile. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"
"I just don't want to die," Yan Rui replied honestly.
Fei Yue chuckled. "Well, keep it up. You'll need that determination if you want to survive in this sect."
As Yan Rui walked back to his quarters, his body aching but his spirit unbroken, he couldn't help but feel a spark of hope. He had proven, if only to himself, that he wasn't as weak as everyone believed. The flame within him was growing, and he was determined to let it burn brighter with each passing day.
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