The Sahara Desert was no longer a wasteland of sand. It had become the navel of the world.

Above the shimmering heat haze, a colossal tear in reality hung suspended in the sky, shaped like a vertical pupil forged from jagged obsidian and raw starlight.

The rupture pulsed slowly, rhythmically, emitting a deep, low-frequency hum that resonated through bone and marrow. Every cultivator within ten miles felt it in their teeth, a dull ache that warned of something far beyond mortal scale.

This was the entrance to the Trial Ground of the Supreme.

The Federation's forces were assembled in a massive semicircle along the western edge of the gate. Thousands of students from Central Martial University and other elite academies stood in rigid formations, backs straight, breaths shallow.

They were the New Generation, the pride of Earth. Yet beneath the crushing presence of the gate, they looked less like warriors and more like children standing before a storm.

Opposite them, occupying the eastern side of the desert, stood the forces of the Dual Throne Rule.

The initiates of Aethelgard were a sight that inspired instinctive fear. They wore immaculate silver armor that shimmered with layered enchantments, their eyes glowing with innate elemental authority.

Beside them stood the juniors of Xylos Talos, their bodies an unsettling fusion of flesh and machine. Limbs had been replaced with conduits of violet energy that hissed softly as they drew power directly from the surrounding atmosphere.

The air between the two camps was thick with friction, invisible pressure grinding against invisible pressure.

"Look at them," Kaelen sneered.

The junior initiate of Aethelgard floated several inches above the sand, arms crossed, his hair the color of spun copper glinting beneath the sun. His gaze swept across the Federation students with open contempt.

"They look like frightened cattle. Do they truly believe they can walk the same path as the scions of the Prime Era?"

A Xylos Technic-Acolyte let out a crackling laugh filled with static interference. "Their biological signatures are unstable. Primitive. They have only just learned how to breathe properly. Sending them into the Supreme's Trial is nothing but a waste of soul-data."

The insults were not whispered. They were broadcast through mana, echoing across the dunes for all to hear.

The Earth students clenched their fists. Faces flushed. Jaws tightened. But none dared to step forward. The pressure radiating from the Ancient juniors alone was enough to pin them in place. The average Ancient stood at the Peak of Gold Rank, their foundations forged over centuries, not years.

The breaking point came suddenly.

A young Federation student, no more than eighteen, shifted his stance nervously. The tip of his spear brushed the sand of the Neutral Zone separating the two camps. He couldn't take it anymore.

But the younger generation of the ancient rulers just snorted coldly.

Kaelen flicked his finger.

A bolt of white solar flame sliced through the air. It struck the spearhead, melting it instantly into glowing slag, and the shockwave hurled the student backward. He hit the sand hard, coughing blood instantly.

Terror etched across his face.

"Keep your trash out of our sight, primitive," Kaelen spat.

"That's enough."

The crowd parted as Naomi stepped forward.

Her Gold-level aura surged outward, disciplined and radiant, a controlled blue brilliance that stood in stark contrast to the wild, arrogant flares of the Ancients. As a professor, as a guardian of Earth's future, she could not remain silent.

"You are guests on this planet by decree of your Archons," Naomi said. Her voice was calm, cold, and unwavering. "Act like it. Or I will personally teach you the etiquette of the Fourth Epoch."

Kaelen laughed out loudly hearing this with a mocking tone. "A Gold-rank professor?" He tilted his head. "In our civilization, you would be a foot soldier at best. You think your so-called Standardized Cosmic Breath makes you our equal?"

"Try me," Naomi replied, stepping into a combat stance.

Kaelen did not hesitate. He roared, summoning a blade of condensed sunlight into his hand. The two collided in an instant.

Naomi moved with flawless technique, her motions fluid and precise, echoes of what Noah had subtly instilled in her long ago. Kaelen struck with overwhelming force, but she redirected it again and again, guiding the excess energy into the ground. Each deflected blow vitrified the sand, leaving behind circular craters of black glass.

The Federation students erupted into cheers.

For a fleeting moment, the new generation's pride surged. Naomi was holding her own against a Peak Gold prodigy of an Ancient Race.

"Impudent."

The word rolled across the battlefield like thunder.

An invisible wave of pressure slammed down, flattening the sand for hundreds of yards in every direction. The air itself seemed to buckle.

From the rear of the Ancient formation, a figure stepped forward.

He was taller than the others, wrapped in a cloak that flowed like liquid mercury. His eyes were neither white nor blue, but a terrifying, solid Platinum.

Prince Alaric of the Silver Throne.

A Platinum Rank existence. The gulf between Gold and Platinum was not merely power. It was the difference between a river and an ocean.

"Kaelen is a noble of Aethelgard," Alaric said, his voice vibrating through bone and soul alike. "For a primitive woman to lay hands on him is a capital offense. I will erase your core as a warning to your species."

He raised his hand.

The space around Naomi contracted violently. The air solidified, compressing into an invisible mass as heavy as lead. Naomi gasped, her aura flickering under the crushing pressure of a Platinum realm.

"Professor!" the students cried, but none could move. Alaric's presence alone paralyzed them.

Silver light gathered in his palm. He meant to cripple her. Here. Publicly.

At the back of the crowd stood a man wearing a simple wooden mask.

Noah watched through the eyes of the Nameless One.

He saw the arrogance of the Prince. The cruelty of the Ancients. The flickering, desperate resolve of his sister.

"You want to pretend you are superior?" Noah thought, his gaze turning into endless voids behind the mask. "Then let me show you what true depth means."

He did not move.

He did not flare his aura.

He reached inward.

Noah touched the Source of Existence, then reached outward through it, slipping into Naomi's meridians and unlocking the Hidden Gates he had planted within her when he healed her before.

A microscopic fragment of Origin Essence flowed into her.

To a god, it was nothing.

To a mortal, it was a supernova.

Just as Alaric's attack descended, Naomi's aura collapsed inward.

The blue vanished.

In its place rose a shimmering silver-white mist, translucent and serene. Her hair lifted as if submerged in water. Her eyes emptied, becoming calm voids of perfect clarity.

Alaric froze. "This is not a breakthrough," he muttered. "This energy is…"

Naomi vanished.

She appeared directly in front of him.

There was no speed. No acceleration. Distance simply ceased to exist.

Alaric struck with the force of a falling mountain. Naomi tilted her head by a fraction of a millimeter. The blow missed.

Her palm struck his chest.

BOOM.

Prince Alaric was launched across the dunes, skipping like a stone, smashing through three stone pillars before crashing into the Aethelgard transport vessel.

The Ancients screamed after watching this.

Alaric surged back, his Platinum aura blazing. "I will kill you!"

A storm of silver spears erupted from his hands. Naomi flowed between them, never blocking, never deflecting. She simply occupied the only spaces where the spears were not.

She reached him again.

This time, she struck without pause.

Silver-white fists descended like divine judgment. Each blow battered not just flesh, but soul. Naomi moved at Diamond-level output, sustained entirely by Noah's hidden will.

Left hook.

Right jab.

Knee to the solar plexus.

Armor shattered. Blood sprayed. The Golden Prince was reduced to a helpless target.

The final kick struck with planetary force.

Alaric vanished into the ground, carving a crater half a mile wide.

Silence followed.

Naomi stood at the rim, the mist fading. She stared at her hands, confused. "I… what did I…?"

The Trial Gate pulsed crimson suddenly.

"Warning! Spatial Distortion!" the Xylos Technarchs screamed.

A beam of iridescent light descended, locking onto the highest Potential Score present.

Naomi.

"Noah! Mom! Dad!" she cried as her body dissolved into light.

She vanished.

Noah's heart skipped.

His gaze pierced the gate, then stopped.

A wall of Primordial Will.

"This isn't a training ground," he whispered. "It's truly a trial ground of an Entity above world level.",Noah thought. He had checked this place before, but that time this realm was empty. But now a will stronger than him apeared here.

Sudden unbound excitement ignited in his heart.

"If this is a real game," Noah smiled, "then I'm done watching."

He stepped forward.

Reality shattered.

"I'm coming in."

Golden light engulfed him.

The Nameless One vanished.

The Statistics of the Trial Entry

Group

Number of Participants

Average Rank

Top Talent Rank

Group: Federation (Earth)

Number of Participants: 5,000

Average rank: Bronze / Silver

Top Talent Rank: Gold (Naomi - Hidden Diamond)

Group: Aethelgard (Ancients)

Number of Participants: 1,200

Average Rank: Gold

Top Talent Rank: Platinum (Alaric)

Group: Xylos Talos (Technarchs)

Number of Participants: 800

Average Rank: Gold (Cyborg)

Top Talent Rank: Platinum (Unit 01)

Group: The Nameless One

Number of Participants: 1

Rank: ERROR

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