Kevin hunched over his desk, forcing his cramped hand to pen the last words of his final draft. While the room was well-lit, frequent glances at the window told him the last of the light was fading outside.

It had been a long time since he’d written an essay, and even longer since he’d done one by hand. Errors were unavoidable; he’d had to rewrite pages multiple times to get a presentable version together.

Which didn’t even get into the complexity of the information itself. The Twisted Step was a technique with multiple levels of understanding to it.

At the base level, it was a series of footwork designed to move the user in circular patterns around or past a target point. In essence, it gave you unpredictable movements, while tiring you out faster.

Another level down, it allowed for rapid changes in direction and momentum by placing extreme stress on the user’s joints and ankles. While this would lead to injuries, it allowed the user to change direction or bring themselves to a halt on a dime.

The advantage for dodging attacks was clear, and would only grow more relevant as later realms introduced wide-scale techniques.

Those were the basic, mundane components that made up a technique nearly impossible for any mortal to use. Such movements were too draining to keep up in a fight, and one would suffer injury in short order.

Which was where the deeper levels of comprehension came in. At the third layer, Qi flowed to the user's lower limbs, reinforcing muscle, tendon, and bone. Such a boost would prevent damage in the first place and heal it when necessary.

Even further, at the fourth level of comprehension, Qi filled the lungs and heart, reducing the energy strain of such over-the-top movement. By now, it had transformed from something unusable to a technique capable of confusing skilled foes.

With just that, it would have been an impressive technique, but there were hints of deeper mysteries hidden in the little booklet. When you read between the lines, there were suggestions of near-impossible effects.

Even the most basic of such mysteries strained Kevin’s ability to study in a single day. Still, he persevered. Even showing a hint of such comprehension would go a long way to backing up his unorthodox approach.

While many examinees might showcase the basics of the technique, he couldn’t see many diving so deep while also learning to perform it.

Hours after stumbling onto the idea, he had just enough understanding to write a few paragraphs on the first mysterious effect he’d encountered. If the hints within the text were to be believed, then at the fifth level of understanding, this technique would make traveling in an arc faster than a straight line.

The very idea seemed ludicrous, defying basic ideas of geometry, yet there were enough clues that he couldn’t ignore it. Also, it was a kind of nonsense that fit in well with advanced cultivation techniques.

So he’d began with the basics, followed by his limitations and inability to use the technique at this time, then ended with his best interpretation of the deeper mysteries.

Penning the last of his conclusion, Kevin laid his pen to wrest and looked over the document. Five pages of interpretation; half the size of the original technique.

As always with all writing of this world, the words echoed as English in his mind despite the foreign alphabet and combinations. Writing in such a way had been difficult at first, but as he’d learned to let go, he'd found the foreign letters flowed from his pen.

The work was as close to perfect as he’d been able to get it, and there was no time for any final alterations. All he could do was lean back and massage the pain out of his arm as he waited for the last minutes to run out.

By now only a few people remained in the room, all hunched over their booklets with desperate fervor. None seemed to have copied his idea, so his best guess had them checking for any missed clues to the method.

Everyone else had long departed, presumably to practice in more open surroundings. They would be the bigger competition; anyone who could showcase the technique well would be more impressive than his mere written words.

As the last light faded away, a gong sounded for the second time that day. With it came the examiner's words, though he was nowhere to be seen. “Patience examinees assemble in front of the accommodation building.

It was time to see if his ploy would pay off.

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Within minutes they’d assembled, nearly fifty young cultivators in total. Compared to the more common white robes he’d seen in the city, there was a dazzling variety of colors and styles in attendance.

Perhaps it went with the Twisted Path being a sect of oddities. Apart from Gerard, who had introduced himself, Kevin hadn’t paid much attention to the other examinees until now.

There was little point in getting to know people who might never make it in.

In front of the group was the black-robed expert who’d started the entire examination. Holding a scroll, he began calling names in no apparent order.

One by one the hopefuls walked forward and attempted the technique with varying degrees of success. About a third failed to produce anything and were dismissed with little fanfare, while the rest managed enough to get another token.

A single young woman stood out. Dressed in white robes covered in spiderweb-like arrays, every inch of her paper-white skin was inked with shifting text.

When she performed the technique, it was like seeing every part of his academic understanding in motion. In an instant she slid around the practice dummy in the center of the courtyard, blinking across space as if it had twisted around her.

That was it: the deeper mystery of the technique he’d struggled so hard to even grasp. And she’d learned how to use it in the same amount of time.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Kevin had to resist shrinking in on himself at the sight; how could he compete with someone like that? His only hope was that he wouldn’t have to.

A little over halfway through the list, the examiner called his name. Taking a deep breath, Kevin walked forward while unfolding his carefully prepared pages. Without stopping at the training dummy, he presented the pages to the robed figure.

The man raised a perfect eyebrow, using a single movement to convey more intimidation than Kevin had seen in hostile boardroom arguments. “And what’s this?”

Licking his lips, Kevin responded. “My comprehension of the technique listed for your perusal.”

“Is that so?” the man said, his face flat. In a blur, the pages were in his land, his eyes shifting across them at incomprehensible speeds. He flipped each page after less than a second, yet the time still seemed to drag.

At the end, the man’s lips quirked into the hint of a smile. “Acceptable,” he said, flipping a token to Kevin as the papers vanished.

Kevin’s knees almost gave out as the tension left his body. “Thank you,” he croaked, lowering into a bow before tottering back towards the group.

He was met with frowns at his performance, though Gerard was giving him a thumbs up, and the tattooed woman looked amused. Whatever they felt, Kevin couldn’t bring himself to care.

He’d made it through again.

After that, the test finished swiftly. A few people tried following his offering with verbal explanations, and two of them even succeeded. The rest passed or failed, in the usual way.

From what he could tell about the people who passed, the sect wasn’t demanding a massive understanding of the technique. It seemed more like a minimum cut-off; if you couldn’t learn the basics in the day, they didn’t want you sticking around.

However, there was also the possibility of a secret ranking that would come up later. Perhaps their ability across all the tests was being tallied, so you only got kicked early if you straight up failed a portion?

It was a worry that continued to gnaw at him over the next two days. Several more tests were completed during that time, covering their physical and spiritual abilities. The only saving grace was that no one else was kicked during that time.

As if the first two tests for problem-solving and learning ability were the most important ones, the following tests only gauged their ability instead of gating their progress.

Tests for endurance, agility, and combat ability were all ones Kevin was sure he’d scored low in. For power, he didn’t even have to guess; he was straight up the lowest in the group.

Spiritual sensing was the sole one he felt he’d done alright in. Though given his short practice period, he assumed most others had done better.

Then, on the fifth day of testing, the remaining thirty-four members of their exam group were sent to an admin building for interviews. This had to be it, there’d been such a long testing period already that he couldn’t imagine it lasting much longer.

Over thirty people from just their group seemed to be too many; they had to be using these interviews to cut down the numbers. Yet despite the competition, Kevin felt calmer than he had during the entire exam.

They’d finally reached the portion he shined in.

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The same woman who’d taken notes at the gate led them into a massive waiting room filled with comfortable lounges. Rich wood paneling covered the walls, and the ceiling shined gold in the morning light.

Small platters of refreshment were placed on little tables by the lounges, though few people seemed in the mood to eat. After settling them, the woman began calling people through in random order.

None returned, and unless the conversations were short, there had to be multiple interviewers. More confirmation of Kevin’s suspicions; this was the end of the line, either way.

Gerard sat nearby, back straight, but hands clutching his legs. He didn’t look like he wanted to talk, and Kevin felt no particular need, either.

He could understand the younger man's nerves, his stomach was churning despite his earlier calm. He might be great at sweet-talking people, but who knew how much he had to overcome from that disastrous run of tests?

Kevin’s was called after only a dozen other names, and he snapped upright in a moment before shuffling forward. With his heart pounding in his chest, it was hard not to imagine this as the last walk to his executioner.

The sect member led him down a hallway draped with artistic wall hangings until she stopped in front of an unmarked doorway. “Just through here,” she said, the musical lilt of her incredible voice almost enough to perk up Kevin’s mood.

“Thanks,” he muttered with far less grace than he was used to. Bracing himself, he pushed the door open and stepped through.

As the door swung inward, it revealed an office opulent enough to put the wealthiest lawyers to shame. The walls were paneled in mahogany, the massive teak desk was larger than a dining table, and the walls held bookshelves laden with massive tomes trimmed in gold.

Behind the desk sat a young man who didn’t look a day over eighteen. Only his gaze spoke differently, holding unparalleled authority. His power was tightly contained within his stomach, yet blazed with more radiance than the midday sun.

Kevin stumbled at the sight, blinking as he tried to figure out how to dampen his spiritual sight. How foolish he’d been to think those other two might have been in the Golden Core realm.

With the blazing sphere in his chest, this man could be mistaken for nothing else.

“Sit, please,” the Golden Core cultivator said, his voice holding an iron-like command, despite its velvety tones.

Nodding dumbly, Kevin staggered in, blinking to stem the overload of his spiritual senses. It didn’t help, for all, that he could process such information visually, the process had nothing to do with his physical eyes.

By the time he’d made it across the massive bear-skin rug — the bear had to have been the size of a house — Kevin had shaken the worst of the confusion. The man seated across from him had all the perfect features he’d seen in other advanced cultivators, but no more.

Perhaps one’s appearance had already been perfected by the Core Formation realm. Rather than anything physical, it was the man’s spiritual changes that were impossible to ignore.

Beyond just the incredible power, just being near the man seemed to lay a weight on his shoulders; as if the man was significant enough to have his own gravity field. Maybe he was. Kevin wouldn’t place anything as impossible in the face of such power.

Beyond the obvious changes, he struggled to look past his core to the man himself. The cultivator had strong signs of Asian heritage on his face, perhaps enough to have a full parent or grandparent.

This Kevin knew to be significant, though he lacked a lot of the cultural understanding others showed. One thing he was sure of was that Xi’anian descent meant fewer cultivation blockages, but the complicated relationship Caldain had with that country was beyond him.

There was something to do with a war, or multiple wars, a long time ago, but he hadn’t pried much further.

“Kevin Mathew Blake,” the cultivator began, his lilting voice snapping Kevin out of a second, more subtle daze. “Thirty-five years of age, though only thirty physically, and an outsider.”

Most people he’d told about his age looked at least intrigued by the idea, but this man didn’t even bat an eye. Then again, it was nothing compared to the time this man had likely looked eighteen.

“You may call me Elder Ming,” he finished with the slightest nod.

Surging back to his feet as he realized he’d missed any formalities, Kevin bowed low. “It is an honor to meet you, Elder Ming.”

The elder only waved him back down, face twitching into a smile. “I have surveyed your test results, and must congratulate you on scrapping through with near minimum results.”

Kevin failed to contain a wince; that didn’t seem like something worth congratulating.

“Given your difficult start, and less than five months of cultivation, it is a decent showing,” Elder Ming continued, giving no sign of whether he was serious or mocking.

“Still, we would rarely take one with such low scores and we have a decent batch to select from this year. Your status as an Outsider has intrigued us, and your introduction letter from a prestigious government organization has some weight as well.”

Clasping his hands on the desk, the expert leaned forward. “So please, tell me in your own words why we should take a risk on you.”

Bracing himself, Kevin took a moment to formulate his thoughts. So many times in his past, a good speech had gotten him through.

Today it would have to do so again.