A full month had passed since the pool ceremony. The trio—Kael, Samuel, and Mike—had continued their training diligently. Their bodies bore the signs of discipline: hardened frames, sharpened instincts, and the subtle energy fluctuations of cultivators on the rise. Within the forest that bordered the edge of the town, they tested their endurance, speed, and control.
Kael's movements had grown more fluid. The broken sword relic at his side occasionally pulsed faintly, reacting subtly to the surrounding mana. Under Mike's guidance, Kael's swordsmanship progressed swiftly. Where he once relied on instinct, he now wielded intent—each strike carrying focus and hidden weight.
Samuel had focused on enhancing his physical strength. His body glistened with sweat as he punched through logs and carried weighted stones, his breath coming in steady bursts. Mike had remained the calmest of the trio, refining not only his swordplay but his internal flow of energy.
From the bushes beyond, a pair of eyes watched silently. Ryn stood hidden beneath a cloak, his arms crossed. He watched Kael and his friends with an unreadable expression.
---
Flashback – Ryn's Past
Ryn and Kael had once been inseparable. They caused trouble together, laughed together, and even covered for one another. During one of the early school lectures, Kael had crafted a special chalk that would glow when it touched a mana-imbued surface. Their teacher had praised it heavily.
Ryn had tried to take credit for the invention in front of their classmates.
But Kael, with his usual cheeky smile, publicly corrected him.
"Don't lie, Ryn. You didn't even help mix the powder," he'd said.
Their classmates had laughed. Ryn had smiled then too—but something cracked inside. The laughter rang louder than it should have. Since that day, a quiet resentment grew.
He had buried it, or so he thought. But watching Kael improve so rapidly now—praised, followed, admired—made that buried resentment coil into jealousy.
---
Later that evening, Ryn moved deeper into the forest, far from the town's lantern glow. There, beneath a withered tree, a hooded figure emerged from the shadows.
"You're late," the figure said.
"I was watching him," Ryn replied, keeping his voice level.
The mentor stepped forward, his presence cloaked in dark energy. He observed Ryn silently for a moment.
"Your bloodline has potential," he said. "It's called the Abyssal Ink Vein. You can manipulate shadows, move without sound, and twist your presence—but only once you embrace it fully."
Ryn clenched his fists. "Why are you helping me?"
The mentor's smile was unseen beneath his hood. "It's not time for that answer. For now, become strong. You'll have your chance to surpass him."
Ryn looked down at his trembling hand. The darkness within stirred. Part of him still questioned this path—but a louder part wanted power. Desperately.
---
Meanwhile, deep within the town, in a dimly lit chamber beneath the sect's outer post, Rean stood before his father. The elder's robe shimmered faintly, marked with the insignia of an outer sect official.
"You've improved," the father said, measuring Rean's new cultivation level with narrowed eyes.
Rean smirked. "The Fish Technique you gave me helped."
"Good. You need to shine in the trial. Make sure no one overshadows you." His tone darkened. "Especially that boy."
Rean didn't respond. His fists tightened slightly at the mention of Kael.
Later that night, Rean's father met another figure—cloaked in the same dark garb as Ryn's mentor—in a secluded cave.
"He's learning well," said the elder.
The hooded figure nodded and handed over a small black token. "As promised."
"And the other boy?"
"In due time," the shadowed man replied. "The protector from the inner sect has arrived. Not your father. Someone from the Goddess of Light Sect."
The elder's eyes narrowed. "We'll proceed carefully then."
Unseen, beneath the surface of Genesis, alliances were shifting and shadows were coiling around their prey.
The trial was drawing near—and the game had truly begun.