"Next!" came the ft, cold voice from the tent, and when Zern stepped in, he felt like the weather outside was spring itself compared to what he felt when his eyes met with the examiner's gaze. It was simply the harshest winter in that look, throwing his senses into a turmoil, forcing Zern to take a steadying breath.

  The inspector was a middle-aged man with a short, graying mohawk, wearing bck leather armor. What was disturbing for many, though, was that some kind of acid had burned his whole left face... There, instead of an eyeball, a bck hole was left out in the open, now looking at Zern on that side of his face... and it was hard not to stare at it.

  "Here," the instructor spoke up again, presenting a sheet with ten numbered points. "Leave no questions unanswered."

  After filling out the form with his name, address, birthpce, and date, he was asked to provide additional information about his personal life, such as his wife's or children's names, if applicable. It was a bit unusual, but he didn't question it. He just wrote everything down and presented it back to the inspector. For a moment, Zern felt he was back in the training course for the Guards when he was younger. Taking it away with a swift swipe of his hand, the man took a gnce before smming a stamp on the bottom of it with a force that made Zern instinctively flinch. Finally, he pced it on his left into a big pile of other documents before turning his gaze back to Zern.

  "You did not lie. Good."

  "O-of course not," he nodded, looking at him questioningly. As if sensing the unasked question, the man answered it without hesitation.

  "We are from the Empire's Intelligence Agency. Long before this competition started, we screened everyone who signed up. You would be disqualified or even detained if you provide false information on the form. No matter if it was important or not."

  "Ah…"

  "Go through." He continued, nodding his head to the opposite fps from where he came in, "In the following tent, another agent will test your strength. Next!"

  When Zern left, the examiner had a satisfied expression; he liked the initial fear or even disgust that the participants had when they first saw his face. But that slight smirk went to a frown when the next one who came in was a young man holding a little girl in his hands. It was a first, that's for sure, especially seeing the girl sucking on her thumb like a baby, having the time of her life.

  "What's this?!" he grumbled, standing up, releasing a dark and menacing aura, and looking at the two furiously. He got so baffled by the scene that one detail, one significant detail, slipped his mind. That... he knew who the boy was. But anger can be a powerful drug, wiping that fact from someone's consciousness.

  "Ah, sorry, I… just couldn't wake her up." Leinor replied with an apologetic smile, "She probably had a long night working on her cultivation."

  "Enough! What even does a girl like her do here?! Who are you to act like this?! Do you think this is a pyground to bring your little sister to py around?!"

  "No, she is my fiancé-"

  "Preposterous! Disqualified!"

  "Wha-"

  "Get out! Now!"

  “Mmm… what’s going on…” Ren moaned as she woke up because, for the past hour or so, she had been sleeping. Sitting up in his arms, she snuggled quietly against Leinor, grabbing onto his neck like a kitten. "Who is this one-eyed Willy?" she yawned while munching on her saliva, smacking her lips, almost making the instructor choke on his.

  "You both are the shame of the Empire! You are under arrest for disrupting His Majesty's event!"

  "Dear, you should fire him. He failed at his work!" Ren whispered, but not too softly, so the examiner could hear everything.

  "Fire me? Do you think you are-" but he couldn't continue as his surprise and shock finally let his brain continue working. Realization, however te it was, finally hit him, looking at Leinor's apologetic expression. By then, his legs were cnking together from the intensive shaking that immediately followed suit... and he almost began to cry.

  "Mmm? Why is it so quiet now?" Ren stretched, enjoying herself and the situation to its fullest. "Is he okay?" She whispered, "Or is he having a stroke?"

  "Ren, you are so bad…." Leinor murmured back, gulping down his ughter.

  "Fufufu, I'm born this way, babyYYEAOW! Don't pinch me there!" she yelped while filing around in his arms, the result of Leinor's effort to silence her.

  "Stop it and be a good girl." Leinor scolded her with a smile, yet didn't make any effort to put her down.

  "Uuggh…. You are no fun…" She pursed her lips, sulking a little but being obedient enough to remain still.

  "Sorry, Mr. Jarrus." Leinor smiled at the investigator, calling him by name, "It's my fault."

  "N-no problem, P-prince." Jarrus stuttered. In reality, he was just a mid-ranking agent in the Agency. Yes, he was at the Harmony Realm, but had reached that level only after four complete refinements. What he was most surprised about, though, was that the Prince knew his name... but instead of feeling happiness from the fact, he now felt fear more than anything else.

  "Can we continue?" Ren cut in, not wanting to get bogged down in this nonsense.

  "S-sure. This way," Jarrus nodded, holding the tent's fp open behind him to let them through, trying not to look into Leinor's eyes.

  "Thank you, and please don't mind her." Leinor nodded before disappearing from the tent, and Jarrus just colpsed on the floor, taking more than a minute to gather himself.

  "Calm down, Jarrus, calm down…" he repeated before climbing back to his chair. "It will be alright... I just hope that by tomorrow I'll still have my job…."

  …….…..

  "You're my fast pass for the nonsense bureaucracy~!"

  "Oh, come on…." Leinor grunted, hearing Ren's voice, rolling his eyes but still holding her in his arms as they arrived at the next tent.

  Stepping inside, they found another bck-dressed examiner with a fierce expression, standing behind his desk. He appeared to be between forty and fifty years old, at least at first gnce, with his short, bck hair and primly kept goatee shining. They were paired with a set of amber eyes and a reserved aura, making him less frightening than the previous one; still, nobody would underestimate him, not from those who had passed the first test.

  "Prince, Young Lady," he nodded while greeting them, but not bowing or humbling himself.

  Ren just smiled, then jumped out of Leinor's embrace and gave a courteous bow, fixing her winter dress in the process, returning the same courtesy she received from him.

  "Director Orchell," Leinor said while cupping his hands.

  "Mhm," The examiner hummed, getting to the point without wasting anybody's time, "There are ten rods on the table, representing a different stage of body refinement. All of them are made from harder and harder alloys, only breakable by those who truly possess the power to do so. Please select the best one that matches your levels to demonstrate your prowess by breaking it by your chosen body part. Note that the higher level you demonstrate, the better your seeding will be in the tournament... But beware," he continued before any of them could speak, "The weakest part of your body... is your true strength." He added, not knowing that both Ren and Leinor were cultivating... in a slightly different way than usual.

  Sensing the goodwill in his words, Leinor nodded as he stepped forward first, going for the 7th rod immediately and breaking it with one hand, squeezing it. Orchell's eyes shone with an approving light, and he recorded the result immediately, whispering under his breath.

  "Exceptional... So young yet so advanced. Glorious days are ahead of us as our Empire prospers."

  "Please, Director, I'm not the genius here." Leinor looked back, gazing at Ren, shaking his head. "You'll see."

  "Hm?" Orchell tilted his head, looking between them while Ren hopped forward, examining the rods as if she were on a market, looking for fresh fish.

  "Ahahaha, LeiLei is nothing but shy!" she ughed, grabbing the 8th and breaking it with two hands as if it were a twig, shocking the director. "Between the two of us, I'm more of a show-off than he is," she giggled with innocence, but Orchell found it stifling, especially looking into her eyes.

  “Young Lady… this…”

  "Mmm? What? Is it not good enough?" She blinked, looking like an innocent preteen girl, and she immediately raised her hand towards the 9th rod.

  "It's enough!" Orchell nodded immediately, fearing that if she broke that too, he might never advance with his cultivation due to the sheer mental shock he was feeling right now...

  "Oh! That's good! What's next?" Ren grinned, pulling back her hand.

  "For the age test, you just need to squeeze a drop of blood onto this crystal," Orchell quickly masked his shock as he pced a small, transparent, round-shaped gem before the two.

  Leinor easily pricked his fingers, and when the drop of blood turned crystal ruby red, Orchell just nodded, taking it away. When it was Ren's turn, she acted squirmish, making Leinor do it for her, but in reality, she was curious about the results, watching the gem... but it did nothing but replicate the same type of color-change.

  "You're finished, you can go home," The director said calmly, confirming the already obvious: their age. "The competition starts tomorrow, at ten in the morning. Here are your seedings." He produced them without waiting, "I'm giving you this now as I don't think others can top your performance." he shrugged, "There won't be anyone younger and stronger... I can bet my head on that."

  "Whoa? I'm first?" Ren blinked her eyes, surprised by the number on her little slip, and saw that Leinor had the number 2 on it.

  "Based on age and prowess… yes." Orchell smiled wryly, "Both of you are the youngest participants anyway. After you, in third pce is the son of Rawanz, Poli, then in fourth pce is Zern from the Unth family."

  "Oh? Zern isn't in the top 3?" Ren gasped, her eyes suddenly twinkling twice as brightly, "Interesting! Who is this Poli guy?"

  "Don't you remember?" Leinor knocked on her head, "When I first saw you at my birthday banquet, it should have been Rawanz, the finance minister's big day... Back then, his son, only thirteen, would have taken the floor to show off his talent. Then came a five-year-old girl and blew his achievement out of the water. That's him, Poli."

  "Oh..." Ren smiled, sticking her tongue out, "Oopsie! Does he have a grudge?"

  "I don't know." Leinor shook his head, "Still, as far as I heard it, he is extremely talented, and I think this is the second time he is trying to show off..."

  "Well... he is an unlucky boy, aren't he?" Ren giggled, looking between Orchell and Leinor, "Haaah... He should have made some ruckus or something so I could learn about him earlier... Oh well! It's nobody's fault, because I can't help but be... Me."

  "Yeah," Leinor shrugged, "He disappeared after your first stunt. I bet he silently worked, concealing himself, and now wants to show off. Ouch..."

  "Ahahaha, it could be exciting!" She cpped, grinning, "Maybe I should hold back before the finals?"

  Orchell only smiled at the two, listening to their conversation without any intention of disrupting them, just standing there, letting them speak, happy to record as much information as possible in his mind... it was his job, after all.

  "That's not your style." Leinor shook his head.

  "True, I see Zern or you do that." Ren agreed at once. "Anyway! Let's go, I'm so hungry! LeiLei, invite me to breakfast!" she moaned, her stomach rumbling in agreement as she grabbed Leinor's hand and dragged him out of the tent, without wasting any minute anymore.

  "Youngsters…" Orchell sighed before pcing the blood-filled crystals into a small box, which was quickly given to a summoned runner and sent back to the pace.

  Back there, within the Emperor's home, the same two boxes soon arrived to rest on a big table. There, Aerthus IX, Dermitos, and his father, Carthus, stood next to it, having examined the blood samples within the gemstones.

  "So..." Dermitos asked, "Will they be the first candidates as disciples when the Forefather comes back?"

  "Yes, son." Carthus hummed, tapping the stones, sensing the potential in both of them, "When he returns, you will pass down the throne to one of your children, probably to your firstborn. I studied my grandsons since they began cultivating. And amongst them, he will be a good choice to be the next Emperor. Your second child will be a disciple, too, and your third… Well... That's... still undecided. As for Leinor… he is special. I don't know all the pns the Forefather has for this... Sect-idea, but... he may be the core for it, just like that little troublemaker fiancé of his."

  "A Sect… why wasn't I told about it until now?"

  "Because it would disrupt your mind and how you govern the Empire." Carthus snapped at him, "Now you should focus on slowly passing the power to… to…."

  "Feynor." Dermitos shrugged, punching the bridge of his nose, "You really should learn the names of your grandkids."

  "If he shows strength, I will." He snorted again.

  "That's why Sentios hates you."

  "He was weak!" Carthus snapped suddenly, by mentioning a name he hadn't heard for a long time now... and he was fine with not thinking about him, "Don't you ever dare bring up that traitor's name! You should have sent our people after him and finished him off when he left the Empire!"

  "I won't kill my brother, that's why I exiled him." Dermitos answered, calm and used to his father's temper, "He lost, but that's all. He still has the same blood as me, and we fought fair and square."

  "And now he is in the Kingdom of Ten, doing who knows what!" Carthus snorted again, "You are lucky you made so many good decisions that overshadow this blunder," he added with a touch of genuine anger.

  "Enough." Dermitos cpped, "This discussion always ends up with us arguing. Let's get back to this Sect thing. Can you expin it more?"

  "The Forefather came up with this around a thousand years ago," Carthus began, pushing down his temper, "He contacted us when Aerthus IV had died. After leaving the Empire to his son, he went ahead and crossed the Western Desert."

  "He did? I thought it went on endlessly!" Dermitos excimed, his eyes enrging, always thinking the Forefather was somewhere on the continent, hiding or meditating... something.

  "It does not." Carthus smiled, as if he knew everything, "But below the second level of Harmony, the Outer Harmony Realm, it is suicide if you attempt to cross it. You need to be in tune with nature, or you will die wandering the dunes, lost forever, doomed to go mad. Anyway, He reached the other side... eventually. We know very little, as communication is sparse and difficult; we can only send messages in emergencies through our bloodline connection." He shrugged, shaking his head, "Even that forces me to fall into a weakened state for a year or so... However, when he contacts us, he always ys out pns that we must follow. The st message was that he was on his way back."

  "I can't wait to meet him..." Dermitos sighed, actual reverence in his voice.

  "Me too..." Carthus agreed wholeheartedly, "He wishes to assemble every talented individual in the Empire in the next few years, and when he returns, we will have enough manpower to do what he pnned. The Sect will be an independent force, directly under his command, and it will stand above the Empire, as he expined. The Empire will be only a tool that helps the Sect to gather resources, be it consumables, materials, or people."

  "I'm excited to meet him!" Dermitos chuckled, looking towards the windows, "It sounds like a great change is upon us."

  "Yes. But crossing the desert is dangerous. He estimated it would still take him twenty years to get back. Since we st exchanged messages, it has been whittled down to about six or eight years, depending on the weather. Anyway, the reward for the competitions will be resources for cultivation, and the most excellent talents will be given a 'new' title: Imperial Prospects. This will do until the Forefather is back; ter on, they will become official disciples."

  "What about us and the talented Generals or older, stronger people?"

  "Depends." Carthus hummed, thinking about it for a moment, "Those at the Harmony Realm who reached it above the 8th refinement can become Masters of their own and accept disciples. I think... But this can change; it is the Forefather who decides! Those who have advanced between 5th and 7th grade will have different roles, such as enforcers, trainers of younglings, caretakers of the Sect's properties, agents sent out on tasks, and other roles. We will need a lot of busybodies... Then, those below this can never dream of being part of the Sect. They will run the Empire instead."

  "Fascinating…" Dermitos nodded, listening to his expnation, "It will be more powerful, way above what I initially assumed. If we can gather up to a hundred talented people and make them reach Harmony, then we will be unstoppable."

  "Hundred?" Carthus smiled, patting his son's shoulder. "The Forefather wants the Sect to have at least a thousand disciples by the first century and to have at least a quarter of them reach the Harmony Realm. From that, a hundred of them must do it at the 9th level! Son... This is only just the beginning. Ahahaha, I am also looking forward to it! A glorious time awaits us, indeed!"

  "Yes… Yes, Father!" Dermitos nodded, totally fired up, and he couldn't wait for tomorrow to come.

  A new future was upon us... And he wanted to be part of history.