The Yu Clan buzzed with noise and excitement — the kind of restlessness that only came when a real event shook the bones of tradition.
For the first time in years, both the Outer and Inner Halls were holding joint selection tournaments.
And the clan’s younger generation?
They couldn’t be more thrilled.
In the sprawling training grounds of the Outer Court, a hundred dueling platforms had been activated using temporary formation plates.
Each platform floated slightly above the ground, shimmering with boundary seals to prevent accidents.
The scent of stirred dust and youthful ambition hung thick in the air.
Disciples ranging from ages 8 to 13 were already on the field — some stretching, others meditating, many more excitedly comparing spirit artifacts they hoped would give them an edge.
The notice for the tournament had arrived just a day earlier, broadcast across every Universal Communication Talisman and by the Elder’s Council through the clan’s bulletin system.
The message was short and clear:
> [Notice: By decree of the Core Elders, a preliminary selection for the Grand Internal Competition will be held tomorrow. Disciples aged between 8 to 13 can participate. Top 10 from Outer Hall and Inner Hall will qualify. Fight well. Show the power of youth.]
It was more than enough.
Even disciples who had been slacking for months jolted upright and rushed to polish their skills.
At the center platform stood the Outer Hall Master, Elder Yu Baishi — a lean, hawk-eyed man in silver-threaded black robes, with a voice like thunder trapped in a whisper.
"Today, you will prove your worth," he declared.
"Remember control your strength. Winning through brutality will not be rewarded."
Many of the younger disciples swallowed hard at that.
Yu Baishi was known for fairness... but also for strict punishments.
On his command, the platforms lit up — and the duels began.
Blades clashed, palm techniques roared, and the sounds of battle echoed across the mountainside training grounds.
Senior disciples served as judges, using talismans to record outcomes and rank combatants.
But this was no mere test of raw power.
Strategy, control, composure — these were what the Elders truly wanted to see.
And somewhere at the far edge of the platforms, a quiet girl with long black hair tied in a high ponytail sat cross-legged beside her match number.
Her name was Ming Tianmei.
And her gaze was not on the current fight.
It was on the direction of the Core Pavilion.
"...Soon," she whispered, her eyes glinting.
Meanwhile, the Inner Hall bore an entirely different atmosphere.
Unlike the open wildness of the Outer Court, the Inner Hall’s selection was being held in the Sky Reflection Dome — a vast, enclosed coliseum constructed of mirrored jade and celestial glass.
The top disciples of the Inner Pavilion — often considered the prodigies of the Yu Clan — gathered on their own sectioned platforms.
These battles weren’t just about qualifying for the main event.
They were about pride.
Disciples of branch families, allied families and direct descendants of Elders all stood shoulder to shoulder, each wearing their clan-issued combat robes, polished spirit insignias gleaming on their chests.
The Inner Hall Master, Elder Yu Fanren, watched from a floating observation talisman that hovered above the field like a silent eagle.
Unlike Baishi, Fanren said nothing.
Every inner disciple already knew what was at stake.
From above, rosters and matchups glowed in midair — formations displaying names, win streaks, and rankings.
Cheers, gasps, and bursts of energy frequently erupted from different corners of the dome as matches played out one after the other.
Whispers passed through the audience platforms, where family members and instructors sat, observing potential candidates with hawk-like focus.
A few names had already stood out.
Yu Renli — known for his lightning-step movement technique.
Yu Xueqing — a quiet girl with needle-thread precision in her blade arts.
Mo Lin — a boy with a peculiar sword no one could identify.
As both Halls roared with the thrill of combat, the final rankings were being compiled.
Soon, only ten names from each section would be chosen — twenty youths who would step into the Core Arena during Yu Lingluo’s Tenth Birthday.
The Awakening Ceremony was nearly upon them.
And the battlefield was already taking shape.