Xuan's fingers twitched as he flipped the shin guards over, his gaze locking onto the delicate inscription etched along the inside lining.
His eye twitched.
The text, written in an elegant, flowing script, read:
"Property of Big Sis Yue ❤️"
Next to it, a tiny, adorably drawn spider dangled from a silk thread, surrounded by tiny pink flowers.
Xuan inhaled sharply. He exhaled even slower.
He looked up. Lan Yue's teasing smirk had grown impossibly wide.
"What… is this?" Xuan asked, voice flat.
Lan Yue tilted her head, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh? Just a little something extra. A signature touch, you might say."
Xuan's grip on the shin guards tightened. "What do you mean, 'Property of Big Sis Yue'?"
Lan Yue gasped theatrically, placing a hand on her chest. "Oh my! Are you questioning the craftsmanship of your dear Big Sis?"
"That's not the problem here!" Xuan snapped, his forehead twitching.
Lan Yue grinned even wider. "Come now, it's just a little decoration. Think of it as a sign of our friendship!"
Xuan rubbed his temples. "You put a heart on it."
"Did I?" She leaned forward, pretending to inspect the text. "Ah, well, what can I say? Craftsmanship should always come with a personal touch. I just thought it'd look… cuter."
"Cuter," Xuan repeated, deadpan.
"Of course!" She clasped her hands together, looking proud. "Now everyone will know that you belong to me!"
Xuan froze for half a second, then groaned loudly. "You… I can't even—" He stopped himself. "Whatever. It's not like anyone will see the inside of my shin guards anyway."
Lan Yue gasped dramatically. "Oh no! That's where you're wrong! What if you kick too hard and they fly off? Then, everyone will see my beautiful inscription!"
Xuan visibly paled.
Lan Yue burst into laughter. "Relax, relax! But really, I think it suits you."
Xuan sighed, shaking his head as he started fastening the shin guards to his legs. Despite his frustration, he could already feel the extra protection they provided. His legs were already aching slightly from the earlier fights, a dull soreness creeping in.
Even if the shin guards had Lan Yue's embarrassing engravings, he needed them. He couldn't afford an injury.
He finished securing them and stood up, stretching his legs experimentally. The reinforced fibers supported his movements, absorbing impact.
…Damn it. They were good.
Lan Yue smiled knowingly. "See? You love them already."
Xuan rolled his eyes, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response.
>>>
The next morning, Xuan found himself standing in the central training grounds once again.
After his third match had secured his qualification for the next round, he had spent the rest of the previous day watching the remaining disciples battle it out.
With his own fights already done, he had nothing else to do but observe his future opponents—studying their techniques, strengths, and weaknesses.
Of course, in between matches, he had also found himself engaged in occasional banter with Lan Yue—or rather, being endlessly teased by her.
At some point, he had begun to wonder if she found more enjoyment in crafting equipment or tormenting him.
By the time the final match ended, the training grounds had become a scene of exhaustion. Some disciples collapsed on the ground, barely able to move, while others walked away with quiet satisfaction, their place in the next stage secured.
The elders had eventually called for a halt, declaring a break and instructing all remaining disciples to assemble again the following morning.
And now, that morning had arrived.
Xuan scanned the crowd. After the brutal elimination round, only 50 disciples remained.
Wei Rong stood in the distance, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Han Lan and Li Zhi were nearby, speaking quietly among themselves.
A sect elder, standing on an elevated stone platform, raised his hand for silence.
"The first round of the Dawnfire Trials is complete. You have all proven your combat abilities in direct duels," the elder's voice boomed. "But cultivation is not just about fighting opponents in an arena."
A hush settled over the crowd.
"Your next challenge will take place outside of these training grounds. It will test your ability to survive, strategize, and adapt."
Some disciples murmured among themselves.
"You will be taken to the Venomthread Sect's Underground Labyrinth."
Xuan's eyes sharpened.
"This labyrinth was built long before the sect settled here. Within it lie ancient formations, forgotten skeletons, and creatures that have adapted to its depths."
A few disciples shifted uncomfortably.
"The rules are simple," the elder continued. "Deep inside the labyrinth, there are ten Spider Tokens."
Murmurs erupted instantly.
Only ten? But there were fifty disciples left!
Xuan narrowed his eyes. That meant forty people were guaranteed to fail.
The elder let the tension settle before his voice grew heavier.
"The trial will be held on the first floor only. You are not permitted to go lower."
A faint pause.
"This is not a restriction—it is a warning."
His tone turned colder, sharper.
"The beasts lurking beneath the first floor are not meant for disciples of your level. If you descend further… expect to die."
A heavy silence settled over the group.
It wasn't a challenge or a scare tactic.
It was a fact.
Some disciples swallowed nervously. Others clenched their fists, pretending not to care.
Xuan simply absorbed the information.
The elder's gaze swept over them once more.
"You will have three days. If you do not return within that time, you will be considered dead."
Some disciples swallowed nervously. Others clenched their fists, pretending not to care.
Xuan simply absorbed the information.
The elder's gaze swept over them once more.
"You will have three days. If you do not return within that time, you will be considered dead."
Xuan's fingers tightened slightly at his sides.
The words were delivered so calmly, so indifferently.
And yet, they carried the weight of absolute finality.
It was at this moment that he was reminded of something important.
The Venomthread Sect was not a charity.
It was not a place that nurtured the weak.
To the outside world, it was a demonic sect. A place feared for its ruthlessness. A place where strength determined survival.
And yet… somehow, he had almost forgotten that fact.
Maybe it was because of the occasional moments of levity he shared with Big Sis Yue.
The teasing. The banter. The way she treated him like a troublesome younger brother instead of another disciple.
But she was an exception.
The reality of this sect wasn't lighthearted bickering and friendly teasing.
It was this.
A trial where failure meant vanishing into a dark labyrinth, never to return.
A test where death was not a consequence—it was an expectation.
He exhaled quietly, his expression unreadable.
>>>
After the elder's introduction, the disciples were led to the entrance of the labyrinth, a massive gate hidden beneath a hill shrouded in twisting vines.
When the stone doors opened, fifty figures stepped inside together.
But the labyrinth's design was cruel.
Every few minutes, they reached a fork in the path.
And with each split, more and more disciples peeled away—some moving alone, hoping to claim a Spider Token first, others sticking in groups, wary of the dangers lurking in the dark.
Until eventually…
Xuan found himself on a path alone.
The further he went, the thicker the air became.
The stone walls around him were cold and damp, lined with faintly glowing moss that provided a weak, eerie light. Rough, uneven pathways stretched into the unknown, some narrow enough to force him to squeeze through, others expanding into vast, shadowed chambers where the ceiling was lost in darkness.
Every so often, a single, hanging lantern flickered, its flame low and wavering, as if struggling to stay lit.
The silence wasn't true silence.
It was layered.
Somewhere beyond his line of sight, dripping water echoed in the distance.
Somewhere further still, something scuttled across stone.
Xuan's brows furrowed slightly.
This place was alive.
Then—
A low skittering noise echoed from one of the closer tunnels ahead.
It was fast.
Too fast to be something small.
Xuan halted, his muscles instinctively coiling with tension.
The sound grew louder, sharper, accompanied by the faintest scraping of something hard against stone.
His eyes narrowed.
Something was coming.