> *"What you saw… what you felt…*
> *The dreams… the stars… the throne…*
> *Everything… was only the dream of one soul —*
> *Zeravon."*
The voice echoed from nowhere — and from everywhere.
> *"But now… he wakes."*
---
**Cloud Vein Sect – Morning**
The sun had just begun to rise over the eastern cliff face, painting the sky with streaks of orange and soft white. The bells rang three times — the signal for all outer disciples to gather.
Zeravon walked silently through the stone corridor of the outer quarters. His expression was calm, yet distant, as if his mind floated somewhere far from his body.
For the first time in weeks — no dreams. No throne. No golden sword.
Only **silence**.
But he welcomed it.
Because now, he could finally begin walking forward.
---
**Central Arena – Outer Disciple Gathering Grounds**
Hundreds of disciples stood in loose rows, facing the elevated stone stage where Elder Ming, Instructor Wei, and a few inner sect overseers stood.
Instructor Wei stepped forward.
> "Today marks the beginning of the Outer Disciple Combat Evaluation. You will all be ranked by strength, technique, and performance. Fail — and you remain stagnant. Excel — and you may enter the inner sect."
Cheers broke out among confident disciples. Others shifted nervously.
Zeravon said nothing.
He stood among them quietly, his robe plain, his posture relaxed.
No one noticed him.
Yet.
---
**First Rounds – Random Pairings**
Names began to flash across the jade pillar at the center of the arena.
> "Chen Mo vs. Lei Fan!"
> "Wen Ya vs. Tao Kun!"
> "Zeravon vs. Li Ziqiang!"
There were no cheers. No reaction.
Just a few curious glances.
> "Who's Zeravon?"
> "Never heard of him."
> "He's that quiet one from the back rooms, right?"
Li Ziqiang, a bulky young man known for his brute strength, laughed.
> "Don't worry, Elder Wei. I'll make it quick."
---
**Stage 13 – Zeravon's First Match**
Zeravon stepped onto the stone platform across from Li Ziqiang.
Ziqiang cracked his knuckles and flared his spirit energy. A thick red aura wrapped around him — aggressive and fiery.
> "Better kneel before you cry," he smirked.
Zeravon didn't respond.
He simply took a calm breath… and waited.
> *Begin.*
Ziqiang rushed forward with the power of a wild bull, fist aimed straight at Zeravon's chest.
Zeravon stepped aside — not with speed, but **natural rhythm**.
The punch missed by a thread.
He ducked, turned, and raised his hand for a counter… but hesitated.
> *Why… does it feel wrong to strike?*
In that single pause, Ziqiang struck him across the shoulder, sending him back with force.
> *I held back,* Zeravon realized.
And so, for the rest of the fight… he didn't truly fight.
He dodged, defended, absorbed minor hits…
But made no aggressive move.
---
**Result: Loss**
> "Ziqiang wins!"
The crowd clapped lazily.
No one really cared.
Zeravon stepped off the stage without emotion.
He didn't look hurt. He didn't look humiliated.
He simply walked back and sat down.
---
**Watching from the Distance**
Inner sect disciples in charge of observation whispered among themselves.
> "He has no spirit technique. He barely used Qi."
> "Maybe he's just not cut out for this."
But Instructor Wei narrowed his eyes.
> *He didn't lose… because he was weak.*
> *He lost… because he didn't want to win.*
---
**Later That Evening – Outer Courtyard**
Disciples gathered around fires, eating, laughing, and boasting about their matches.
Zeravon sat under the same old tree. Alone. Silent.
> *"Why didn't I strike?"*
> *"Am I afraid? Or am I still waiting… for something I don't understand?"*
He didn't know the answer.
But inside him, something old and buried remained asleep — watching.
And when the time was right, it would wake.
But not today.
---
**Far Beyond — Somewhere in Silence**
The golden scroll pulsed once more.
This time…
It **cracked** ever so slightly.
And a soft voice whispered inside the void:
> *"Do not wake him yet…"*
> *"He must lose… before he learns."*
---