Negative comnts spread like wildfire the mont the lightning struck Kent's battered cauldron.
"That's not a blessing—it's a curse!"
"Heavens rejected him! Lightning only falls to destroy what is unstable."
"His cauldron is already cracked. Wait, it will burst!"
"Golden Heir? More like a fool touched by misfortune."
So disciples chuckled openly, covering their-mouths with mock courtesy. Even those who had been awed at the lightning a mont ago now turned their words sharp, afraid to admit what they did not understand.
On the dais, the Yellow Blossom River Prince leaned back in his seat. His lips parted with a faint sigh, disappointnt shadowing his expression. "Tch. I thought the heavens pointed toward sothing useful. It seems it was only chaos."
His attendants murmured softly. "The Golden Heir is young, untrained. He cannot handle such forces."
"A pity, Prince. We should not have expected more from a newcor."
But while the crowd whispered of failure, Kent's hand never wavered on the rim of the cauldron. The Nirvana Fla continued to pulse, steady as a heartbeat. The golden light that had struck him did not fade—it circled along the carved dragons of the furnace, winding like serpents of lightning.
Inside the cauldron, sparks flickered through the liquid brew. Every spark crackled like a beast's roar—low, rumbling, ancient. So disciples stiffened, their mocking words caught in their throats.
"What is that sound?"
"Did you hear it? It's like… sothing alive in his potion."
"Impossible! A potion cannot roar!"
Kent's eyes remained closed, his breathing even. He was unmoved by their fear or ridicule. He guided the storm through the cauldron, letting it lace itself into the Nine Lotus essence. The Nirvana Fla rged with lightning, refining and compressing until even the froth at the cauldron's edge shimred faintly like stars.
But then, a cry shattered the silence.
A brilliant fla unfurled beside him, drawing every gaze in an instant. The girl at the cauldron next to Kent—Lady Ruo—scread softly as her contracted phoenix spirit surged forth. A divine beast spirit, radiant with crimson-gold feathers, spread its wings. The phoenix's song shook the courtyard, and its fire licked the sky, brilliant and majestic.
Gasps erupted.
"A divine beast spirit!"
"She's revealing the true form of her phoenix? Incredible!"
"No wonder the heavens sent clouds—it was for her!"
Excitent swept the audience like a storm. Eyes that had been watching Kent shifted imdiately toward Lady Ruo. Even the elders stood straighter, impressed.
"Her talent surpasses expectation," one elder murmured.
"She alone will secure the prince's prize," another declared.
The prince's eyes lit with approval. "Yes… this fla is worthy of attention. She understands control. She may yet produce what I need."
Not one of them noticed how her potion—already strong—suddenly surged brighter, thicker, more enriched. The faint lightning circulating in Kent's cauldron had bled across the space between them, seeding her brew with hidden vigor. She, unknowingly, had benefited from standing at Kent's side.
Only Kent knew. Only he allowed himself a faint curve of the lips before his eyes opened again.
The incense sticks at the dais burned steadily. One fell. Another. The third hissed out, smoke trailing into the darkened clouds.
Vice Matriarch Kim raised her hand. "Ti!"
The order rang clear. One by one, disciples withdrew their flas, letting cauldrons settle. So sagged in relief, their robes drenched in sweat. Others panted with exhaustion, their hands trembling from the strain.
But Kent… Kent rely pressed his palm lightly against the cauldron's edge, and the Nirvana Fla receded as if exhaling. The lightning, too, folded into the tal like a serpent coiling back into sleep. His cauldron, battered and cracked, now glead faintly in the sunlight.
Every eye turned forward. The next stage of the test was about to begin.
Vice Matriarch Kim descended from the dais, her steps calm, her expression unreadable. In her hand was a leaf of the Winter Autumn Tree—a testing relic said to reveal truth without error. Its veins shimred with frost and fla both.
She stopped before the first disciple. "The rule is simple. This leaf will enter your potion. If your brew is strong enough, it will turn golden. If not, your failure is plain."
The disciple bowed, swallowing nervously. Kim dipped the leaf into his potion. For a mont, it shimred faint yellow—then dulled back to green. Murmurs rippled.
"Not enough potency."
"He failed the first trial."
"Already cut from the ten."
Kim moved to the next. The leaf touched the surface. This ti, it glead pale gold for an instant before dimming. Kim's expression did not change. "Borderline. You may remain, for now."
The prince leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "This test will prove who among them carries skill. I did not co here for diocrity."
One after another, cauldrons were tested. So leaves flashed gold, so dulled to nothing. Each ti, the crowd muttered—mockery for the weak, praise for the lucky.
Then Kim stopped before Lady Ruo.
The phoenix still hovered faintly above her, though dimd now. She bowed proudly, her attendants watching breathlessly.
Kim dipped the leaf into her potion. Instantly, the leaf glowed brilliant gold, brighter than any before. Gasps filled the air.
"She did it!"
"As expected—her phoenix-fla created perfection!"
"She must be the one the clouds favored!"
Even the prince's lips curved faintly. "This one… her skill is worthy of my notice."
Lady Ruo lowered her eyes humbly, though her pride shone through. Her hands trembled faintly with excitent as she stepped back.
The test continued. Dozens more cauldrons were checked. So succeeded, so failed-miserably. Yet all the while, whispers-spread about the battered furnace waiting near the end of the line.
"Wait until she reaches the Golden Heir's cauldron."
"The lightning-struck pot? It will crumble before the leaf even touches."
"He should pray the cauldron doesn't explode when tested."
At last, Vice Matriarch Kim reached Kent.
Her expression sharpened, her eyes narrowing faintly at the sight of the battered bronze cauldron etched with glowing dragon-carvings. She rembered the lightning. She rembered his arrogance.
"Kent King," she said evenly, her voice carrying across the courtyard. "It is your turn."
All sound in the courtyard hushed. The prince himself leaned forward, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the arm of his chair. His attendants fell silent, their eyes fixed.
Kim lifted the Winter Autumn Leaf. Its veins pulsed faintly. She lowered it toward the shimring brew inside Kent's cauldron.
The crowd held its breath.
Would it glow? Would it wither? Would the lightning curse consu it?
The leaf touched the surface.
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