Ling Huo, standing beside Zhi Xuan, snorted loudly. The orange fire in her eyes flickered as if wanting to devour every insult hurled at her comrade. "You are all talk! If the Yao Gu Plains are as strong as your words, why are you so agitated just hearing a single sentence from Brother Zhi?"

  "Agitated? We are not agitated, Fire Girl," replied Gu Tao, Mu Chen's companion who had a massive body like a small mountain. He slammed his weapon into the floor, creating a vibration that rippled throughout the square. "We are merely disgusted to see Xing Luo rats trying to pretend to be dragons. Let the bell do the talking. I want to see if your inner music is as beautiful as your boasting!"

  Elder Qing He of the Sacred Heavenly Leaf Pavilion let out a long breath, a sigh that carried the scent of ancient forests. She raised her wrinkled hand, signaling for the commotion to subside.

  "Enough," Elder Qing He said, her voice containing an authority that made everyone fall silent instinctively. "Let fate decide where this youth belongs. The Heavenly Night Rain Bell will not side with arrogance or hatred. It only sides with the truth of the Dao Heart."

  She looked at Zhi Xuan once more, this time with a gaze that was slightly softer yet full of warning. "Zhi Xuan, you have invited the attention of all Yao Gu. Your strikes will not only resonate with that bell, but also with all the karma you carry from the past. Prepare yourself."

  Zhi Xuan nodded slowly, his face remaining flat as if the thousands of pairs of eyes staring at him with hatred were merely specks of dust in a snowfield. He took one step closer to the edge of the energy crater, staring at the Night Rain Bell that still hung silent in its dark majesty.

  "Truth of the Dao Heart..." Zhi Xuan murmured softly, audible only to himself. He remembered the melody from the Flower Dew Bridge and the silence in the Nine-Level Pagoda. "If truth demands destruction, then I will destroy the truth itself."

  "That is enough, Zhi Xuan. Pull back your five elements," ordered the Imperial Elder, who immediately tapped Zhi Xuan on the shoulder, signaling for the second stage of the competition to begin.

  Zhi Xuan took a deep breath, letting the five-element energy spinning at his back shrink slowly, flowing back into him like the ebbing tide of a calm sea. Silence enveloped him once more, but the Square of Holy Light grew even more tense, like a bowstring pulled to its limit, ready to release death at any moment.

  Sage Qing Xuan stood from his cloud throne, his white robe fluttering in the mountain wind that brought a chill. He raised a sandalwood staff tipped with a heavenly essence crystal.

  "The second stage, the Trial of the Heavenly Night Rain Bell, begins!" Sage Qing Xuan's voice boomed, tearing through the gray clouds hanging low over the arena. "Rules: each plain will send its envoys one by one. Each strike will accumulate from every envoy. But remember, this bell does not strike the body; it dissects the soul. Anyone whose soul breaks in the middle of the trial, no hand will be able to mend it back together!"

  "Accumulation?" Ling Huo hissed beside Zhi Xuan, leaning in to whisper. "That means every strike from each of us will be gathered. We only have three people left."

  Zhi Xuan narrowed his eyes, staring at the line of five envoys from the Yao Gu Plains and the line of four from the Feng Mie Plains led by Yan Fenghuang.

  The inequality in numbers was like a gaping abyss; Xing Luo would not only have to strike harder, but each individual among them would have to carry twice the burden just to match the accumulation of the other plains.

  "This is their way of pruning branches they consider weak," Ye Ming muttered, his voice remaining calm despite the muscles in his arms tensing. "They want us to exceed the limits of normalcy just to survive."

  Sage Qing Xuan spoke again, ignoring the tension creeping through the Xing Luo line. "The Yao Gu Plains, as the host, will open this curtain of suffering. Gu Tao, step forward!"

  The giant from Yao Gu stepped forward with a mocking laugh. Every footprint on the light bridge toward the bell created a rough ripple of energy. He stood before the Heavenly Night Rain Bell, his massive body looking small before the majesty of the dull, ancient bronze.

  Gu Tao clenched his fist, essence thickening around his arm until it formed a spiked stone shield, creating a massive fist in the air. "Watch, Xing Luo rats! See how true strength resonates with the Heavens!"

  DUARR!

  The first strike hit the surface of the bell. The sound produced was not just a metallic clang, but a low-frequency shock that made the air in the entire square vibrate violently. The water in the energy crater below the stage surged high.

  The bell did not move an inch, but the faces carved on its surface seemed to begin weeping. The next second, a gray shockwave retaliated against the hit, slamming directly into Gu Tao's chest.

  "Ugh!" Gu Tao retreated a step, his crimson face instantly turning pale, but he immediately growled and delivered a second strike, then a third, up to a fifth in rapid succession.

  DANG! DANG! DANG! DANG!

  Each toll brought an echo that tore at the spirit. On the fifth strike, a reversal occurred, summoning an ocean-like force that slammed into Gu Tao until he was thrown back, blood seeping from the corners of his eyes. He panted, his Dao Heart violently shaken by the reflection of his own fears mirrored by the bell.

  Gu Tao knelt on one knee atop the floating stone stage, his breath roaring like the wind in a narrow cave. His mountain-like body trembled violently—not from physical exhaustion, but because his soul had just been shredded by the reflection of thousands of years of suffering radiating from the bell's belly.

  "Five strikes..." murmured a practitioner from a rooftop. "Opening the trial with five consecutive strikes, Gu Tao truly deserves to be called the pillar of Yao Gu's defense."

  "He's not done yet. Look, he hasn't released his technique," replied the cultivator beside him, his fist clenched with pride.

  Gu Tao growled, a sound more like the roar of a cornered beast. He wiped the blood from his lip with the back of a trembling hand. His bloodshot eyes stared at the Heavenly Night Rain Bell with hatred. He knew that if he stopped here, Yao Gu's dignity would be tarnished before the rulers sitting on the cloud thrones.

  "Law of the Eternal Earth: Pillar of the Firmament!" Gu Tao shouted in a raspy voice.

  Instantly, a very dense, dark brown aura exploded from his body. The ground beneath the energy crater seemed to respond; earth essence was drawn upward, coating Gu Tao's body until he looked like an ancient god made of mountain rock. He was no longer striking with a mortal fist, but with a manifestation of heavy laws capable of toppling cities.

  DANG!

  The sixth strike. The bell vibrated more violently than before. The weeping faces carved on the bronze surface seemed to open their mouths, letting out a soundless scream that struck the consciousness of everyone in the square.

  Gu Tao staggered, but he locked his feet into spatial dimensions. The seventh and eighth strikes were launched with a roar that split the sky. Every time his hand touched the bell, a backlash in the form of purple soul-lightning struck back at his central meridians.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  DANG! DANG!

  At the eighth strike, Gu Tao’s stone body began to crack. Shards of earth essence fell like the dust of dead stars. His eyes began to roll back, showing a horrific amount of white. He had touched the limit of his Dao Heart; the bell was now beginning to dissect the darkest memories of his life, forcing the giant to witness destruction repeatedly in a matter of seconds.

  However, Gu Tao, possessed by Yao Gu’s obsession with victory, released the remainder of his spiritual essence, his Divine Wheel spinning wildly. He slammed his forehead and his entire body weight into the ninth strike.

  BOOM!

  The Heavenly Night Rain Bell emitted a very heavy toll, as if two galaxies had just collided. A massive gray shockwave radiated outward, smashing Gu Tao until his stone frame shattered into pieces. The giant body was flung far across the arena, passing over the heads of the spectators, only stopping after crashing into a marble pillar and obliterating it.

  "Nine strikes! Gu Tao reached nine strikes!" the cheers of Yao Gu practitioners boomed, even though their hero now lay unconscious with a fading soul.

  Zhi Xuan observed the event with an ice-cold gaze. He noted in his mind how each strike increased the intensity of the backlash from the bell. If just one person could reach nine, then the accumulation of five people from Yao Gu could reach a number impossible for the three from Xing Luo to chase.

  Thin smoke rose from the surface of the Heavenly Night Rain Bell, as if the ancient bronze had just devoured a portion of Gu Tao's life essence. A momentary silence gripped the square; nine tolls was a sacred number, an achievement signifying a soul foundation as hard as mountain steel.

  Sage Qing Xuan nodded in satisfaction, his white beard fluttering. "Nine strikes for a grand opening. The Yao Gu Plains have driven a sturdy stake into this altar of fate."

  He then glanced toward the Feng Mie Plains line. Yan Fenghuang still stood with unwavering arrogance, but one of his companions—a slim youth in dark red robes named Huo Yan—stepped forward. His eyes glowed with an unstable fire, as if he were a furnace ready to explode.

  "Nine strikes are indeed impressive for a brainless giant," Huo Yan said as he shot toward the floating stage. "But in the Feng Mie Plains, we don't just use physical weight. We use burning passion!"

  Huo Yan did not wait for a signal. He spread his arms, and a pair of fire wings appeared on his back. He struck the bell with a barrage of attacks that looked more like a dance of death.

  DANG! DANG! DANG! DANG!

  The first four strikes were released in one breath. Huo Yan used the momentum of his fire to neutralize the backlash, trying to burn the gray waves before they touched his soul. But the Night Rain Bell was no stupid, inanimate object. At the fifth and sixth strikes, the bell emitted a hum that resembled the cries of thousands of mountain-guarding spirits.

  "AAARGH!" Huo Yan screamed. The fire on his body suddenly turned pitch black—a sign that the bell's soul-shock had poisoned his fire essence.

  He forced a seventh strike, but the backlash received was far more vicious. A giant hand projection made of gray mist emerged from the bell’s surface, clutching Huo Yan’s chest and hurlng him away until his red robes were burned off by his own fire.

  The strikes on the Heavenly Bell continued. Each envoy from Yao Gu and Feng Mie dominated, devouring the space as if Xing Luo were not even given a chance to move forward. By the time only Yan Fenghuang and Mu Chen remained, the Yao Gu Plains had accumulated twenty strikes, while Feng Mie had obtained eighteen.

  Zhi Xuan clenched his jaw. He felt the gap between the plains growing more pronounced with every strike of the Heavenly Bell. Xing Luo seemed ostracized, given no opportunity to step forward.

  The Imperial Elder remained silent, waiting. Meanwhile, Zhu Yanghai and Hua Tianming kept their faces cold and flat, as if they trusted their respective envoys to bridge this gap.

  "Ling Huo, go forth. Show them your fire is colder and burns everything," Hua Tianming commanded calmly, nodding faintly at Ling Huo.

  Ling Huo took a deep breath, letting every ounce of essence in the Square of Holy Light burn away the remaining doubt in her heart. She did not look at Zhi Xuan or Ye Ming; her focus was now locked on the bronze executioner still humming low, as if digesting the essence of the previous strikers.

  With one stomp of her foot that triggered an orange fire explosion beneath her heel, Ling Huo shot forward. Her body cleaved the air like a meteor falling in the middle of the night, landing on the floating stage with a thud that shook the Nine-Heaven Meteorite Iron chains.

  "Xing Luo... finally an ant tries to challenge a dragon," mocked a Yao Gu disciple, immediately followed by low laughter from the audience.

  "Little miss, don't get burned by your own fire, okay?" Yan Fenghuang taunted from a distance, his Heavenly Eye emitting flashes that clashed with Ling Huo's aura.

  Ling Huo ignored the insults. She stood directly in front of the Heavenly Night Rain Bell. The heat radiating from her body made the surrounding air ripple, blurring the vision of anyone trying to peek into her Dao Heart.

  "You want to eat my passion?" Ling Huo hissed at the bell. "Then swallow the fire that has burned away all my fears!"

  Without a preamble, she slammed her palm, enveloped in Solar Core flames, against the bell.

  DANG!

  The first strike. The sound of the bell was different—sharper, as if the bronze were startled by the purity of the fire element Ling Huo carried. A gray backlash shot out, but Ling Huo opened her pores, letting the shock enter and be burned away by her wild energy circulation.

  DANG! DANG! DANG!

  Three subsequent strikes were released with breathtaking speed. Each hit made Ling Huo tremble; her robes began to scorch from her own rapidly rising body heat. By the fourth strike, her face turned pale. She felt the bell starting to draw memories of her comrades' failures—the blank face of Liu Feng appeared in her mind, trying to pull her into an abyss of despair.

  "Begone!" Ling Huo roared. She slammed her hand against her chest, forcing her Divine Wheel to spin to its maximum limit. "I don't strike for them; I strike to burn a path for my brothers!"

  DANG!

  The bell seemed angry. The laughing faces carved on its surface now turned into roaring demon forms. The backlash that emerged was no longer gray mist, but transparent soul-needles.

  Ling Huo spat out a mouthful of blood that evaporated before hitting the floor. Her eyes began to dim, but her will still blazed. She condensed her entire life essence into her right fist, forming a fire lotus that spun at high speed.

  "Nine Steps of the Fire Lotus: Mountain Crusher!"

  DANG! DANG! DANG!

  "The sixth strike." Yan Fenghuang, watching from afar, narrowed his eyes. "Six strikes... she has exceeded my prediction. But this is where the real pain begins."

  Three thunderous tolls echoed in succession, creating a firestorm that enveloped the entire floating stage. At the eighth strike, Ling Huo felt her heart stop beating. The entire accumulated backlash from eight strikes slammed into her soul in one lethal tidal wave.

  "Enough, Ling Huo! Retreat!" Ye Ming shouted, but his voice was drowned in the roar of energy.

  Ling Huo staggered, her legs felt weak, but she saw the accumulation numbers in the air. Xing Luo had only gathered nine, far behind Yao Gu's twenty. With her remaining consciousness almost gone, she bit her tongue until it broke, using physical pain to rouse her nearly fainting soul.

  "One... more...!"

  She slammed her entire body weight into the bell, letting her chest clash directly with the cold bronze surface.

  BOOM!!!

  The ninth strike. The bell emitted a very low sound—a noise that caused several lower-level cultivators in the audience to stumble from the internal shock. Ling Huo's body was flung like a dry, burning leaf, floating down toward the energy crater below.

  Before she touched the lethal energy fluid, a silver shadow shot out. Zhi Xuan caught Ling Huo's body in mid-air, cradling her with one arm while his feet planted firmly in the air, creating a ripple of frozen ice beneath him.

  Ling Huo's face was scorched, her breath gasping, but she smiled weakly as she looked at Zhi Xuan. "Nine... I gave you... nine..."

  Zhi Xuan looked into the girl's eyes as they nearly closed. "You have done more than enough, Ling Huo. Rest. Let me and Ye Ming finish the rest."

  Zhi Xuan landed back in the Xing Luo line, handing the unconscious Ling Huo to Hua Lian Xi. A heavy silence now enveloped the Square of Holy Light. Nine strikes from a female practitioner was a staggering achievement, but it was still not enough to close the gap.

  "Nine strikes? She... she's equal to Gu Tao? That fire girl is truly terrifying!"

  "Don't hold her in such high regard! She was just lucky. Look at what Mu Chen will do later."

  Yan Fenghuang watched, filled with hatred but also acknowledgement; he had clearly underestimated the fire girl he deemed unequal. "Quite interesting, for a small fire that burns a mountain."

  "Xing Luo, nine strikes," Sage Qing Xuan's voice was flat, but there was a hidden note of admiration. "Next, Ye Ming, step forward."

  Ye Ming stepped forward with a terrifying calm. He did not dash or fly; he walked across the light bridge with steps that seemed to lock the space around him with every footfall.

  "Twenty, eighteen, nine," Ye Ming murmured while looking toward Zhi Xuan. "I will try to close this gap as much as possible, Zhi Xuan. But prepare yourself... the bell grows hungrier after tasting Ling Huo's fire."

  Ye Ming stood before the bell, releasing the mountain aura he had suppressed until now. The surrounding air suddenly became so dense that the dust on the arena floor was crushed into even smaller particles.

  "This trial is not about who strikes the hardest," Ye Ming said, more to himself. "It is about who is most capable of becoming a vessel for suffering."

  He raised his large hand and slowly touched the bell. Not with a fist, but with an open palm.

  DANG.

  The sound did not explode; it vibrated deep into the ground. And that was the beginning of the most horrific display of soul endurance the Yao Gu cultivators had ever witnessed.