The echoes of battle slowly faded from Sparrow City.
Smoke drifted through broken streets. Scorched talisman paper fluttered in the wind like dying fireflies. The crimson glow of the trial orbs had vanished, leaving only quiet stone and the exhausted survivors who had fought for them.
Back at the trial grounds, the gates stood open once more.
Candidates staggered through them in groups — some upright, others carried by teammates or supported between trembling shoulders. Blood streaked robes. Armor hung cracked and scorched. The once-proud crowd of hopeful cultivators had been reduced to a scattered gathering of the battered and the fortunate.
At the center of the grounds, Elder Ji Han stood with his hands folded behind his back.
His sharp eyes moved across the field.
Of the hundreds who had entered the trial, only a handful remained.
He raised his voice.
"Teams — assemble."
The command carried across the plaza like the toll of a great bell.
Slowly, the survivors gathered.
Lu Mao stood with Yan Mei, Marco, Chen Yuan, and Bao Fu near the center of the grounds. The five of them looked little better than the rest — robes torn, dust clinging to their hair and skin, qi reserves stretched thin.
Yet they were standing.
That alone placed them among the fortunate.
Around them, other teams gathered — some proud, others barely conscious.
In total, twenty-five groups had returned with the crimson orbs.
Twenty-five teams.
Out of more than one hundred that had entered Sparrow City.
Lu Mao scanned the field quietly.
Not all who had failed were gone.
Many had survived — but survival had not come without cost.
Several candidates lay on stretchers along the outer edges of the plaza. Cultivators with torn limbs, shattered ribs, or deep punctures through their bodies were carried toward a wide marble structure at the far end of the grounds.
The building's doors stood open, revealing rows of glowing medicinal arrays.
Healers in white robes moved swiftly between the wounded.
Golden light pulsed from the formations as spiritual herbs burned within bronze braziers. The scent of medicine and qi filled the air.
Bao Fu squinted toward it.
"That place…" he muttered. "What do they call it again?"
Yan Mei answered without looking.
"The Sanctum of Rebirth."
The name suited it.
Inside that hall, elders of the guild worked tirelessly, channeling healing qi through complex formations that knitted flesh and bone alike. Broken bodies slowly restored themselves beneath the glow of ancient medical techniques.
Lu Mao watched as a cultivator whose arm had been nearly severed was lowered into a jade platform within the sanctum. Threads of luminous qi stitched the limb back together before his eyes.
Even those who had nearly died would recover.
Eventually.
But their trials were over.
Elder Ji Han allowed a moment for the field to settle before speaking again.
"Out of one hundred and thirteen teams that entered the Trial of Skill," he announced calmly, "twenty-five have succeeded in claiming the Red Fire Orbs."
His gaze swept across them.
"Five senior cultivators maintained perfect defense and allowed no orb to be taken. Their challengers were eliminated."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the surviving candidates.
"Those seniors have already returned to their factions," Ji Han continued. "The remaining twenty-five stand ready to receive those who proved capable enough to steal from them."
Only then did Lu Mao notice the line of figures waiting near the far end of the plaza.
Twenty-five cultivators stood before the towering doors that led deeper into the guild complex.
Each wore robes bearing different emblems — serpents, blades, mountains, storms.
Faction symbols.
Senior disciples.
The very same ones whose orbs had been stolen during the trial.
Bao Fu let out a low whistle.
"Well," he murmured. "This should be interesting."
Elder Ji Han raised a hand, silencing the murmurs.
"For those who have passed," he said, "the next stage of your path begins now."
The survivors straightened instinctively.
"You will be admitted into the factions of the senior disciples whose orbs your teams managed to seize. Under their supervision, you will undergo preliminary training and receive assignments within the guild."
Lu Mao listened carefully.
"These missions will shape your standing within the Golden Sparrow Guild," Ji Han continued. "Your performance during the coming year will determine whether you rise to the rank of Inner Disciple… or remain among the outer ranks."
A quiet tension settled over the plaza.
"A year from now," the elder added, "you will have the freedom to choose which faction you wish to permanently join."
Bao Fu perked up slightly.
"At least there's that."
Ji Han finished simply.
"For now… follow the senior disciples whose orbs you claimed."
The twenty-five seniors stepped forward.
Their gazes swept across the gathered candidates — calm, measuring, curious.
Lu Mao felt those eyes like knives sliding over his skin.
Bao Fu nudged him lightly.
Then, glancing toward the line of seniors, he whispered with a crooked grin.
"Well… looks like I'll be following that beautiful fairy after all."
Lu Mao followed his gaze.
A tall woman stood among the senior disciples — silver hair tied in a high knot, robes of dark steel and blue falling elegantly around her form. Even standing still, she carried the quiet weight of someone used to command.
Marco glanced toward Yan Mei.
"Did you know about this rule?" he asked. "Being assigned to the faction of the senior whose orb we took?"
Yan Mei frowned slightly.
"No."
Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"The rules used to be different."
Chen Yuan looked over.
"What do you mean?"
"Candidates normally had the right to join whichever faction they wished," she explained quietly. "That was how it worked in previous years."
Marco crossed his arms.
"So why change it now?"
Yan Mei shrugged faintly.
"Politics," she said. "Or power shifts within the guild."
Her gaze drifted toward the distant spires of the Sovereign Aerie, rising beyond the plaza like a forest of crimson blades.
"It's only a guess," she admitted.
Chen Yuan exhaled slowly.
"Well… at least we know our senior is strong."
He glanced toward the silver-haired woman again.
"Maybe it won't be so bad."
Then he shrugged lightly.
"We've done well so far," he said.
The others looked at him.
"It's better than failing," he continued. "At least this is the first step toward what we came here for."
Yan Mei nodded after a moment.
"And after a year," she added, "we still have the option to change factions if we're not satisfied."
Bao Fu rubbed his hands together.
"Well then," he said cheerfully. "Let's go meet our future tormentor."
They approached the silver-haired senior together.
She stood with perfect posture, arms folded behind her back.
Her eyes were cold.
Not cruel.
Not arrogant.
Just… sharp.
Lu Mao felt them measuring each member of the group as they approached.
Recognition flickered there.
She remembered them.
The confrontation during the trial.
When they stopped several paces away, she finally spoke.
Her voice was calm.
Soft.
But it carried the quiet authority of someone used to obedience.
"I am Li Xian."
Her gaze swept across them once more.
"Senior disciple of the Black Dragon Faction."
A faint ripple of murmurs passed among nearby candidates.
"And an Inner Disciple of the Golden Sparrow Guild."
She paused.
"From now on… I am your senior sister."
The air felt suddenly heavier.
"You will follow my instructions exactly as I give them," she continued evenly. "Anything less will not be tolerated."
Bao Fu swallowed.
Li Xian's eyes shifted toward him briefly.
"If I give an order once," she said calmly, "it will not be repeated."
Silence settled over the group.
"The rules of the Black Dragon Faction will be explained once we arrive," she continued.
Her gaze hardened slightly.
"Until then, remember this."
She stepped forward.
"While you remain within the faction… your actions represent its name."
Her silver aura flickered faintly — sharp and controlled.
"You will work to glorify it within the guild."
No one spoke.
Then Li Xian turned smoothly.
"Follow me."
Her robes shifted gracefully as she began walking.
Then — without warning — she accelerated.
Her figure darted across the plaza like a silver arrow.
Without looking back, she added,
"Try not to fall too far behind."
Bao Fu stared after her.
"…She's serious."
Marco snorted.
"Move."
They followed her through the city.
The path wound through the same districts they had crossed during the trial — broken courtyards, narrow alleys, tall rooftops casting long shadows across the streets.
Gradually, the sounds of the trial grounds faded behind them.
Sparrow City returned to its usual rhythm.
After some time, the familiar street appeared ahead.
Lu Mao slowed slightly.
He recognized it instantly.
"This place…"
Yan Mei glanced around.
"The same street," she murmured.
"The one where we confronted her."
Li Xian had stopped near the end of the road.
Before them stood a large compound surrounded by tall stone walls.
At first glance, it looked… old.
Very old.
The walls were cracked in several places, their surface worn by years of weather. Moss clung to the stone, creeping along the base like a slow infection.
The iron gates sagged slightly on their hinges.
Bao Fu stared.
"…Are those gates supposed to lean like that?"
Chen Yuan frowned.
"They look like they might fall apart if someone sneezes."
Li Xian pushed them open without comment.
The hinges groaned.
Inside lay a large courtyard.
And beyond it…
A palace.
Or at least, something that had once been a palace.
The building was enormous.
Tall towers rose toward the sky, their roofs shaped like jagged fangs. Dark windows stared down like hollow eyes.
But the structure was in poor condition.
Tiles were missing from the roof.
Stone carvings had cracked.
Several balconies leaned at uncomfortable angles.
The entire place looked less like a residence and more like the setting of an old nightmare.
Chen Yuan stopped walking.
"…This is where we stay?"
Bao Fu's mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
He stared at the building with the expression of someone who had just discovered his new home was haunted.
Yan Mei looked equally confused.
Her brows knitted together.
Lu Mao noticed.
It wasn't just the state of the building.
It was the contrast.
Li Xian herself looked elegant — refined, composed, every movement precise.
Nothing about her suggested she lived in a place like this.
Lu Mao chuckled softly under his breath.
Marco glanced at him.
"You find something funny?"
"Just… interesting," Lu Mao replied.
The others continued staring at the palace.
Li Xian walked calmly across the courtyard as if nothing about the place was unusual.
At the entrance, she finally stopped.
Then she turned back toward them.
Her silver eyes flicked briefly across their faces — lingering on the mixture of confusion, disbelief, and unease.
For a moment…
Just a moment…
Something faintly amused flickered in her expression.
"Welcome," she said calmly,
"To the Black Dragon Faction."
The wind moved through the courtyard.
The ancient palace creaked softly.
And standing there beneath its shadowed towers, Lu Mao realized something.
This place…
Broken walls, crooked gates, and all…
Was where their real path in the guild would begin.
Not the trials.
Not the chase for the orbs.
Those had only been the first step.
Ahead of them lay training, missions, rivalries, and the slow climb through the ranks of the Golden Sparrow Guild.
Lu Mao glanced at his teammates — Bao Fu still staring at the building in disbelief, Chen Yuan scratching his head, Yan Mei quietly observing the compound, and Marco already walking forward without hesitation.
A faint smile touched Lu Mao's lips.
Whatever this strange faction turned out to be…
They were in it together now.