All of them reached their respective caves within moments of one another.

Seven paths.

Seven entrances.

And the same sight awaited each of them.

Pink orchids bloomed on either side of every cave mouth–petals flawless, colors vivid, untouched by wind or dust. They swayed gently, as if welcoming visitors rather than guarding thresholds meant to kill.

Too beautiful.

Too deliberate.

No one stepped closer.

They were exhausted–not physically alone, but mentally. Recklessness had carried them this far, and it had nearly killed them more times than any of them cared to count. Whatever awaited beyond these caves would not be decoration.

Not here.

Not in the Final Assessment.

Hidden weapons.

Living creatures.

Or something worse–bait that punished curiosity.

Each of them understood it instinctively.

At one cave, the Chief moved first.

He did not draw a blade.

He did not advance.

A faint shimmer escaped his spiritual core as he released a small hawk soul, its form translucent and sharp-eyed. It flapped once, then darted forward, low and fast, skimming toward the orchids.

The response was instantaneous.

A blur of motion flashed between the petals.

The hawk vanished.

Not torn apart.

Not pushed back.

Snatched.

The severed connection slammed into the Chief's senses, and his breath hitched–not from pain, but from realization.

That speed…

Even the hawk hadn't reacted.

"Rash movement," he muttered hoarsely, "is courting death."

He closed his eyes.

Then reopened them.

The world shifted.

Vision inverted as he synchronized fully with the hawk's lingering perception–fragmented, incomplete, but enough. Using that final echo, he stepped forward himself, slow and deliberate, placing his foot exactly where the hawk had passed.

One step.

Nothing happened.

Two steps.

Still nothing.

He moved between the orchids.

Successfully.

No attack.

No movement.

No resistance.

For a brief moment, it almost seemed like the danger had been exaggerated.

Then–

The orchids vanished.

Not from the cave.

From his sight.

The color drained away as if erased from existence, leaving behind empty air where petals had bloomed a breath ago.

The Chief's pupils contracted.

He withdrew his weapons instantly.

And then–

The danger did not come from the front.

Behind the Chief, space distorted.

Two figures unfolded from the orchids themselves–petals peeling back like layered armor revealing living steel beneath.

June Orchid Mantises.

Apex predators.

Their bodies shimmered between hues of pink and green, legs jointed like blades, mantis forelimbs folded in perfect stillness for a single heartbeat–

Then they struck.

The attack came without warning, scything forward with terrifying precision.

The Chief reacted instantly.

Silver Snow Hawk wings erupted from his back, spreading wide as a living shield. The first frontal strike slammed into the wings with a metallic shriek, force rippling through his body as he was hurled backward.

He crashed against the cave rock wall.

Stone cracked.

Dust erupted.

The Chief rolled once, planted his foot, and rose again–blood at the corner of his mouth, eyes sharp rather than shaken.

He took to the sky.

Silver Snow Hawk Martial Soul merged fully, wings stretching wide as his irises duplicated–overlapping, not splitting–his vision expanding outward. The world slowed.

The mantises moved.

But slower.

"Silver Storm," he said calmly.

"First Form–Silver Rain."

The sky responded.

Countless layers of silver feathers spiraled into existence above him, circling in precise formations, each feather vibrating with restrained cutting intent.

The mantises reacted.

Their forelimbs waved.

Rose-colored slashes tore through the air–dense, overlapping, relentless–aimed directly at the Chief.

"Second Form," he continued, eyes cold.

"Lattice Reversal."

The spiraling feather layers snapped inward.

Silver hair-thin strands connected them, weaving instantly into a single vast lattice–delicate in appearance, absolute in function.

The slashes struck.

None passed through.

They were absorbed.

Contained.

The Chief smiled.

"Reversal."

The lattice flexed.

Then released.

Every stored slash redirected–compressed, accelerated, refined–shot back along the same vectors, converging on a single point.

The mantises tried to react.

Too late.

The reversal carried more than just force–it carried amplified velocity. Tenfold acceleration. Their reflexes lagged under the strain of their own combined attack delay.

The slashes struck.

Both mantis necks.

Clean.

Precise.

The bodies fell.

Heads separated.

The Chief landed lightly and entered the cave without another glance.

–

Hylisi watched in silence.

Skill.

Experience.

Hard-earned survival.

Then her gaze shifted.

The Patron.

He did not slow.

He did not stop.

He did not fight.

"Shadow Ghost–Ghost Form."

The words were never spoken aloud.

His body faded.

Not blurred.

Not distorted.

Gone.

He entered the cave without touching the ground.

He exited just as silently.

Empty-handed.

Then–he moved again.

That single motion was enough.

Hylisi's breath caught.

The sword and shield were not meant for him.

But the way he killed–

Nine crescent loop blades hovered unseen.

The smallest ring split.

Two blades slid forward.

They entered the mantis bodies without resistance, without pain, without alerting the creatures themselves.

Then–

The mantises collapsed.

Their camouflage dissolved.

Dead.

The Patron vanished.

–

Hylisi turned.

The burned gap remained unrepaired.

Still blind.

Her gaze shifted again.

Aizrel.

She was already out.

The mantis forms lay motionless–or perhaps not.

Their camouflage had not faded.

But in Aizrel's hands–

A sword.

And a shield.

Hylisi finally exhaled.

For the first time since entering the chamber, her shoulders loosened–not in relief, but in acceptance. The assessment was unfolding as it should.

Her gaze shifted.

As she stepped away from the cave entrance, sword and shield secured, her gaze drifted once–briefly–toward the neighboring path.

Princess Lainsa's.

Mist had already swallowed it.

A low, rolling green veil crept along the grass, thickening with every breath, curling around the orchids and stone alike until even outlines dissolved into nothing. No sound escaped it. No clash. No cry.

Hylisi frowned.

That mist was not natural.

Realization struck a moment later.

…So she invested first.

The vapor was layered–herbs, spores, diluted toxins woven into spiritual fog. Not meant to kill outright. Meant to blind, mislead, and isolate. A battlefield shaped before the enemy could even appear.

Aizrel narrowed her eyes slightly, committing the sight to memory.

She had missed Lainsa's battle.

Not because it was short–

But because it had already been decided.

She looked at the next gap, determined to not miss the view.

Ru and Yi.

They had not rushed forward like the others. Instead, they remained concealed behind a jagged rock formation, eyes fixed on the orchid-marked cave entrance.

"I'll draw them out," Ru whispered. "You check the sword and shield number."

Yi shook his head immediately. "Too reckless. What if the orchids aren't the only trigger?" His eyes narrowed. "We set a trap. You lure them halfway. I'll make sure they never reach you."

They paused.

Then nodded.

Without another word, they split.

The grasslands provided what they needed.

Bu Xine vines–thin, fibrous, toxic when processed–were harvested quickly. They crushed the vines, extracting the viscous essence, then retrieved hardened Golden Hymen from Rhinoceros Golden Beetles stored in their spatial rings.

The mixture shimmered faintly as Yi compressed it with spiritual energy.

A scent spread.

Rejuvenation Beetles.

Ru's lips curved. "We're in luck, aren't we?"

Yi nodded grimly. "Only if they bite."

For June Orchid Mantises, Rejuvenation Beetles were a necessity–consumed to force realm breakthroughs. But infused with Bu Xine essence…

One swallow meant death.

They masked all remaining scent with clay dug from the earth, coating their hands and arms. As backup, Ruyi Guns were planted on both flanks, barrels angled precisely.

Ru moved first.

He revealed himself deliberately.

The mantises responded instantly.

Slashes ripped through the air, sharp and sudden, but Ru's agility carried him cleanly through each one. His movements were economical, predictive, never excessive.

Yi followed silently from behind.

Then–miscalculation.

One mantis surged ahead.

The other hesitated.

Realm disparity.

One had already broken through days ago.

Yi adjusted instantly.

The Ruyi Gun materialized in his hands.

A massive green crossbow bolt launched–not at the mantis, but slightly ahead of its projected movement path.

The mantis stopped exactly where Yi predicted.

The bolt pierced through one eye.

Then the other.

Still alive.

Barely.

A greedy smile crossed Ru's face.

He appeared beside it, spatial ring flashing as the dying mantis vanished into storage.

Yi turned.

The second mantis lay motionless, its body already turning half-golden from poison saturation.

He collected it as well.

Moments later, both emerged from the cave.

Sword.

Shield.

Hylisi watched, lips parting slightly.

"Interesting subordinates," she murmured. "The only ones who seemed to enjoy the assessment."

She realized, belatedly, that she had forgotten to record their evaluation.

Her gaze shifted again.

Mu Long.

He had not hidden.

He had not planned.

The fight was already underway.

Axe met slash.

Metal screamed.

No technique names. No elaborate forms.

Just raw force.

Mu Long stood his ground, enormous axe sweeping in brutal arcs. Slashes hammered into him from both sides, but he did not retreat–only swayed, adjusting angles, absorbing impact.

Each strike fed him.

His fighting spirit rose.

So did the axe.

Its weight.

Its sharpness.

At first, the mantis carapace resisted.

Then–scratches.

Then cracks.

A violent grin split Mu Long's face.

The Yin–Yang emblem on his axe ignited.

Red fumes poured from his body.

White fumes bled from the blade.

He slammed the axe into the ground.

The land answered.

A shockwave erupted outward with a shrill, pressure-crushing roar. The mantises were flung back several meters–but rose again immediately, charging.

Mu Long did not dodge.

He took the attack.

In that instant, it looked as if his body had been cut apart–head, waist, legs–four clean sections collapsing in a cloud of dust.

Hylisi stopped breathing.

The dust settled.

Mu Long stood there.

Unscathed.

The mantises lay in four equal pieces.

Perfectly cut.

Hylisi's mind blanked.

Something crawled beneath her skull, like ants devouring thought itself.

Then–

The bangles pulsed.

A monochrome wave washed through her body.

She inhaled sharply.

"…How," she whispered, still stunned, "did he do that?"

Mu Long entered the cave.

Returned empty-handed.

The sword and shield were not meant for him.

One by one, the candidates regrouped–returning to the point where the second assessment had begun.

The grasslands fell quiet again.

But the air no longer felt gentle.

The orchids had fought.

And the Final Assessment had moved one step closer to its true purpose.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.