Hundreds of new inner court disciples had gathered in the main courtyard, standing like an army of eager yet uncertain novices, each awaiting their fate. The massive space was lined with intricate carvings, the sun filtering through the columns in golden beams that bathed the scene in a divine glow. Beneath the balcony that spanned across the courtyard, a group of elders stood in their stately robes, their ancient eyes scanning the sea of young cultivators.
The air was thick with anticipation, as those in the crowd fidgeted, occasionally exchanging nervous glances. These were the hopefuls, the ones who had passed all previous trials and made it this far, yet their true test was just beginning. The Phoenix Academy, the most prestigious sect in the empire, was known for producing legends. In the minds of the disciples, this moment held more significance than any other—this was the trial that would define their path, a rite of passage where the academy's masters would select those worthy of their personal training. It was not only a test of skill but of will, resolve, and a glimpse of the divine favor that each disciple might carry.
Guests from rival clans and academies had long since departed, leaving behind only the few select to stand before the elders. This was no longer a spectacle for outsiders—this was an event for Phoenix Academy’s chosen. And those chosen would soon find their destiny forever altered.
Among the elders stood Umi Nagisa, slightly apart from the others. She held herself with an almost feline grace, her arms crossed as her sharp eyes surveyed the crowd below. Her presence seemed almost ethereal, as though she was both part of the scene and yet detached from it. Her focus was intense, not on the most obvious candidates, but on the faces that seemed to hold something more—a flicker of something unusual. She observed them all with a calculating eye, looking not just at their appearances, but reading their auras, their energies, and their intent.
Her gaze lingered on one individual—a girl with striking blue eyes, standing alone near the back of the group. Her posture was straight, her gaze steady and defiant, as though she had never learned to bow to others. Blue eyes were a rare and often cursed trait, associated with bad luck and misfortune in most circles. But as Nagisa watched her, a thought struck her: the girl’s quiet strength was undeniable. There was a fierce determination there, forged by years of facing prejudice and judgment.
The girl’s gaze was unflinching, as though she was accustomed to such scrutiny. It was rare for someone to make it this far with blue eyes, and the fact that she had endured the weight of society’s disdain spoke volumes about her willpower and tenacity. For a moment, Umi Nagisa found herself intrigued.
But then her curiosity deepened.
"Vasu-Jin? What sort of deity is that?" she mused, her sharp mind already working to recall any mention of the name. It was a deity she had never encountered—an obscure god, at best. Yet there was something about the girl’s aura that seemed to resonate with that name, a faint echo of an ancient power she couldn’t quite place. A deity that might have chosen this girl, giving her the strength to endure the impossible.
Nagisa’s musings were interrupted as she noticed the other elders beginning to arrive from their respective assessment rooms. She could hear their murmurs rising like a tide, most of the conversation focused on the favored disciples this year—sons of the Crown Prince, and General Sun, who had long been esteemed for their lineage and accomplishments. Nagisa couldn’t help but roll her eyes, a rare sign of irritation crossing her features. The political games, the favoritism, the predictable attention lavished on the children of powerful families—it all disgusted her. She had no patience for these games. She was here for true talent, not bloodlines.
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Her thoughts were abruptly cut off by a voice behind her—a deep, low voice, warm and smooth as velvet.
"Umi Nagisa."
She sighed, her posture stiffening as she turned slowly to face the one person she never truly wished to see. Standing behind her was Grandmaster Hong, a towering figure even without his imposing stature. He was calm, composed, and almost always unassuming, but the respect that followed him was absolute. His gaze, however, was gentle as ever, a reflection of the wisdom he had acquired over countless centuries.
"Yes, Grandmaster Hong?" Nagisa replied, her voice betraying none of the internal exasperation she felt. “How may I assist you?”
The Grandmaster smiled softly, his presence always managing to calm her despite her usual reluctance to entertain others. "Oh, come now, Umi. Surely it’s not so terrible?”
Nagisa rolled her eyes, turning back toward the courtyard as if to hide her expression. She let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly not interested in small talk. "I loathe the idea of taking responsibility for another human being, Grandmaster. Nothing you say will make me enjoy this process," she muttered, stretching as though she were simply waiting for the moment to pass. “And besides, I have yet to find one even remotely interesting."
Grandmaster Hong chuckled, his laugh rich with understanding. "You never know, Umi Nagisa. Perhaps, within this very crowd, you’ll find a talent like your own."
At that, Umi Nagisa couldn’t suppress a sardonic laugh. “From this lot?” She swept her sharp eyes over the crowd, her disinterest palpable. "Two—maybe three—show any promise at all. And those few already have half the elder assembly clamoring for them." She smirked, amused by her own cynicism.
But then, almost imperceptibly, her eyes returned to the blue-eyed girl. There was something different about her, something that stood apart from the rest. Despite her defiant air and the obvious weight she carried, there was an undeniable spark of power in her aura. It was raw, unrefined, but undeniably potent. Nagisa's curiosity was piqued once more, though she quickly pushed the thought aside, reminding herself not to get her hopes up.
Cursed eyes or not, the girl had something—something that the others lacked. But the idea of having to compete with other masters over a disciple made her shudder. She was never one to fight for anything.
The Grandmaster’s voice interrupted her thoughts again. "Very well, but you will need to choose someone this year. I expect you to play nicely with the others." There was an amused undertone in his words, though the command was clear.
Nagisa sighed, her tone thick with reluctance. "No promises, Grandmaster."
She wasn’t one to indulge in false hopes—hopes always led to disappointment, and disappointment, in her experience, led to weakness. But as she glanced toward the east, her lips curved in a rare, fleeting smile.
"Isn’t that right, Mofeyr?" she murmured softly, almost as though she were speaking to herself. Just then, a light breeze whispered past her face, carrying with it the faintest scent of jasmine and lavender. She closed her eyes for a moment, and her smile deepened.
“Perhaps, just once… I will trust in fate."
The breeze danced around her for a moment before fading, as if in quiet response.