Yan Qiu had never seen so many people in one place.

  The crowd at the base of the stairs was enormous, at least two hundred candidates packed together and waiting for the trial to begin. He had expected maybe thirty or forty people from Dusthaven, but this was something else entirely.

  “My feet are killing me,” a boy behind him was complaining to his friend. “We walked three days straight from Iron Creek just to get here.”

  “Three days? That is nothing.” His friend scoffed. “Try coming from the eastern border. We left a week ago and my legs still have not recovered.”

  “A week? Where even is that?”

  Yan Qiu listened to the conversations around him and slowly understood what was happening. This was not just Dusthaven. This was the entire Copperwind Province. Xu Liang had mentioned the name once, explaining that Dusthaven was just one city in a much larger region, but Yan Qiu had not really understood what that meant until now. Every village and every town and every family with a child who had spiritual roots had sent them here for the same chance.

  He felt very small suddenly.

  A boy next to him turned and looked him over. His clothes were clean and his hands were soft, the kind of hands that had never worked a field.

  “Hey, where are you from?”

  “Blackroot.”

  “Never heard of it.” The boy shrugged. “I am from Dusthaven, born and raised right here in the city. Village kid, huh? Well, good luck I guess.”

  He turned away before Yan Qiu could respond, already losing interest.

  Nearby, someone in expensive robes was talking loudly to anyone who would listen. “My father hired the best tutors in the province. Three years of preparation! These trials should be nothing.”

  “I heard only one in ten passes,” someone else muttered nervously. “Maybe even less than that.”

  “One in ten?!” A girl nearby sounded terrified. “Are you serious?”

  “Relax, that is probably just a rumor to scare people.”

  “Out of my way!” A boy in silk robes was shoving through the crowd and pushing people aside. “Do you have any idea who my father is?”

  Nobody answered him. A few people rolled their eyes behind his back.

  Yan Qiu just watched and waited.

  The noise died suddenly.

  Everyone looked up at the raised platform at the base of the stairs, and Yan Qiu saw why. A man had appeared there. He had not walked up or climbed, he was simply there, as if he had always been standing in that spot.

  “Oooh!” The crowd gasped together.

  “Did you see that?”

  “He just appeared out of nowhere!”

  “That is a real cultivator…”

  The man was old, with a white beard that reached his chest and eyes that seemed to look at everyone and no one at the same time. He wore pale robes that moved slightly in a wind that Yan Qiu could not feel, and his presence alone made the air feel heavier.

  Another figure stood beside him, and Yan Qiu’s breath caught. It was Elder Shen, the same elder who had come to Blackroot years ago and tested his spiritual roots and told him he had potential. The elder looked older now, or maybe Yan Qiu just remembered him differently.

  “Welcome to the Barched Wind Sect trials.”

  The old man’s voice was not loud, but Yan Qiu heard it clearly, as if he was standing right next to him. Several candidates flinched in surprise.

  “I can hear him like he is whispering in my ear,” someone muttered.

  “I am Elder Bai Yun,” the old man continued. “I oversee the selection of new disciples for our sect. You have all traveled far to be here, from every corner of Copperwind Province. Some of you have trained for years. Some of you have natural talent. Some of you have neither, and are here only because your families hoped for a miracle.”

  He let that sink in. A few candidates shifted uncomfortably.

  “The Barched Wind Sect does not accept miracles. We accept those who can endure, those who can think, and those who can fight. Today you will be tested on all three.” His eyes swept across the crowd. “Not all of you will pass. Most of you will not. This is not cruelty. This is simply the way of cultivation. The path is narrow, and only those who belong on it will walk it.”

  The crowd had gone completely silent. The boy who had been bragging about his tutors looked like he wanted to disappear.

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  “There will be four trials. You will face them one after another, without rest. Your performance in each trial will be recorded, and your final acceptance will be judged based on how you perform across all four. A poor showing in one trial does not mean failure, just as excellence in one trial does not guarantee success.” He paused. “I will explain each trial as we reach it. For now, you need only know the first.”

  Elder Bai Yun raised his hand and pointed at the stone stairs behind him. They climbed up the mountainside in a long winding path and disappeared into the mist above.

  “Climb the stairs to the first pavilion. The formation embedded in the stone will test your spiritual roots. Those with roots will feel pressure increasing as they climb. The stronger your roots, the lighter the pressure. Those without roots will not be able to climb at all. The formation will simply reject you.”

  Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

  “That is it? Just climb stairs?”

  “Sounds easy enough.”

  “There has to be a catch.”

  Elder Bai Yun’s lips twitched slightly. “The stairs are longer than they look. Begin.”

  The candidates surged forward.

  Yan Qiu moved with the crowd and watched as the first wave of people reached the base of the stairs. Some of them stepped onto the first stair without any problem. Others hit something invisible and stumbled back.

  “What? I cannot move forward!”

  “My legs will not listen!”

  “There must be a mistake! Test me again!”

  Those without spiritual roots could not even set foot on the first step. The formation pushed them back like an invisible wall, and no matter how hard they tried they could not break through. Sect disciples appeared from somewhere and began escorting them away. Some of them were crying and others were arguing and a few just stood there staring in disbelief.

  Yan Qiu reached the stairs and stepped up. The formation let him through, and he felt a faint pressure settle onto his shoulders. It was uncomfortable but not unbearable, like carrying a heavy sack of grain.

  He climbed.

  The first ten stairs were easy. The next ten were harder. By the twentieth stair his legs were starting to burn and the pressure had doubled. He could hear people around him gasping and groaning.

  “Ugh, why is it so heavy?”

  “My legs feel like they are filled with rocks!”

  The boy in silk robes was sweating heavily by the fifteenth stair. His face was red and his breath was coming in short gasps. A farm boy in worn clothes passed him easily and barely slowed down.

  “How are you moving so fast?!” the silk-robed boy demanded.

  The farm boy just grinned and kept climbing.

  Yan Qiu passed them both. His body was strong from months of training, from running and lifting and sparring with the innkeeper. His white spiritual roots helped too, making the pressure feel lighter than it should have been. He climbed steadily without rushing or struggling, just moving one step at a time.

  A girl was climbing near him. She was thin and pale and looked like a strong wind might knock her over. But she moved smoothly and her steps were light and precise, and she was keeping pace with him easily. They exchanged a glance and nodded slightly at each other.

  Behind them candidates were collapsing. Some fell to their knees and could not get up. Others vomited from the pressure and had to be carried down by disciples.

  “Failed! Next!”

  The pressure grew heavier near the top. Yan Qiu’s legs burned and his lungs ached, but he kept pushing, one step after another until his vision narrowed to nothing but the stone in front of him.

  He reached the first pavilion.

  About a hundred candidates made it.

  Yan Qiu stood with the others and caught his breath while looking around. The pavilion was wide and open, and the stone pillars were carved with symbols he did not recognize. The view was incredible from up here with the entire valley spread out below them, but nobody was looking at the scenery. Everyone was too tired.

  Elder Bai Yun was already there.

  “Oooh!” Several candidates gasped. He had appeared again without anyone seeing him move.

  “The second trial,” he said. “Sit.”

  He pointed at the floor, and Yan Qiu noticed for the first time that there were formation circles carved into the stone, dozens of them arranged in neat rows.

  “Endure the pressure. The longer you last, the higher your score. Those who cannot endure will be removed from the circle automatically.”

  “Already?” someone whispered. “We just climbed those stairs!”

  “This is brutal…”

  Elder Bai Yun did not respond. “Begin.”

  Yan Qiu found an empty circle and sat down cross-legged.

  The array activated. Golden light surrounded him, and pressure descended from above. It was different from the stairs, heavier and more focused, pressing down on his entire body at once.

  At first it was just uncomfortable. Then it got worse.

  Candidates started dropping out almost immediately. The array pushed them out of their circles when they could not take it anymore, and they stumbled away gasping and shaking.

  “I cannot breathe!”

  “It feels like a mountain is sitting on me!”

  The silk-robed boy lasted maybe two minutes before the array ejected him. He fell onto his back and gasped for air. “This is unfair!”

  Nobody paid attention to him.

  Yan Qiu closed his eyes and focused. The pressure was heavy and crushing, but it felt familiar somehow. His body knew how to handle this, and he did not know why or how, but something inside him had done this before.

  He breathed in and out, letting the pressure wash over him without fighting or resisting it.

  Time passed. He lost track of how long.

  He opened his eyes briefly and looked around. Most of the circles were empty now, and only a handful of candidates remained with their faces twisted with effort. The pale girl was still there, her expression calm and her breathing steady.

  Yan Qiu closed his eyes again and kept going.

  The pressure increased until his bones ached and his muscles screamed, but he did not move. He had felt worse than this, though he did not know when or where.

  Finally the array stopped.

  He opened his eyes. Only five candidates remained seated. He was one of them.

  The candidates who had dropped out were staring.

  “Who is that kid?”

  “He lasted longer than everyone!”

  “He does not even look that tired…”

  Yan Qiu stood up slowly. His legs were shaky but he could walk. He looked around and saw Elder Bai Yun watching him with one eyebrow slightly raised, and Elder Shen watching too with a strange, unreadable expression.

  Elder Shen walked over to him.

  “You have grown since Blackroot,” he said quietly.

  Yan Qiu bowed. “Elder Shen.”

  The elder nodded once and walked away without another word.

  Yan Qiu watched him go and wondered what that look had meant. Then Elder Bai Yun’s voice cut through the murmurs.

  “The third trial will test your mind. Follow me.”

  The candidates who had passed began moving toward the next set of stairs. Yan Qiu followed, his body tired but his spirit high.

  He had done well, better than he expected.

  But something nagged at him as he climbed. Why had that pressure felt so familiar? Why had his body known how to handle it?

  He did not have an answer, so he filed the question away and kept walking. The next trial was waiting.