On the forty-second day at Iron Mountain Sect, Elder Huang summoned all outer disciples to the main courtyard.
Three hundred outer disciples stood in ranks under grey sky. Wen Dao stood near the back with Li Meng and Cai Rong.
Elder Huang stood on the raised stone platform at the head of the courtyard.
'The Shattered Heaven Realm has opened,' he said. His voice carried without effort. 'It opens once every three years. It will remain open for fifteen days.'
A ripple went through the crowd.
Li Meng's face had gone pale. 'The Shattered Heaven Realm,' he whispered. 'It's a secret realm from the previous civilization. Ancient. Extremely dangerous. The last time it opened, thirty-seven disciples went in. Eleven came out.'
'What's inside?' Wen Dao asked.
'Ruins. Traps. Beasts. Ancient treasures. The thing about it is...' Li Meng's voice dropped lower. 'The realm has its own laws. Cultivation stages above Qi Condensation Level Four become restricted inside. The realm suppresses higher cultivators to prevent them from taking everything.' He paused. 'Which means inner disciples and elders can enter but can't fully use their power.'
'It levels the field,' Wen Dao said.
'Partially. But it also means the most dangerous beasts inside are also suppressed to a point — not eliminated. Just capped.' He swallowed. 'A suppressed heaven-realm beast is still deadly.'
Elder Huang continued: 'Participation is voluntary but encouraged. Each participating disciple receives one entry token. Items brought out are kept by the disciple. No sect restrictions on what you take.' He paused. 'However: the sect is not responsible for injuries, death, or loss inside the realm.'
He stepped down. The briefing was over.
Disciples immediately broke into buzzing conversation.
Cai Rong looked at Wen Dao. 'You're going.'
'Probably,' Wen Dao said.
'Why probably?'
'I'm asking myself whether the risk matches the opportunity. The opportunity seems significant. The risk is real.' He paused. 'But I am not particularly useful outside of situations that require the risk anyway.'
Cai Rong blinked. 'That's either very brave or very strange.'
'Both, probably.'
He looked across the courtyard. Fang Lie was already walking toward the registration table with his entire Grey Peak clique behind him. Fang Lie looked like he had been planning for this. Probably had been.
Zhou Jin was standing alone near the far wall. Wen Dao's eyes stopped on him.
Zhou Jin was one of the other outer disciples — quiet, rarely visible, never in sparring sessions. He had placed in the top twenty of the rankings without anyone seeing him fight at full intensity. He had a forgettable face that somehow made you remember him after the fact.
He was already looking at the registration table.
Li Meng followed Wen Dao's gaze. 'Zhou Jin,' he said quietly. 'He never talks. Never eats in the main hall. Some people say he's an inner disciple spy. Some say he's from the Zhao family.'
'What do you think?' Wen Dao asked.
'I think he's the most dangerous person in our year and most of the year doesn't know he exists yet.'
Wen Dao filed that away.
He went to register.
Three days until the realm opened.
He used them.
Day one: he took the scroll copies of Ren Long's advanced Iron Question Fist notes and began drilling the intermediate forms. They were harder. More dependent on real-time reading. He drilled until his arms moved without conscious thought.
Day two: he visited Mei. He did not tell her about the realm. He ate her food and let her talk about the kitchen hierarchy and which elder preferred which tea. Then he left.
Day three: he sat alone in the maintenance tunnel for two hours with the jade pendant in his hands. He asked Elder Shao's voice — faint in the jade — one question: 'What should I know about what you've given me?'
The voice came faint but clear: 'The mark on your wrist holds one use. Near mortal death, it activates. What it gives you, you will earn by surviving the moment.'
One use. Near mortal death.
He hoped he wouldn't need it.
On the third morning, the Shattered Heaven Realm opened. A tear in the air at the north face of Iron Mountain, visible as a rippling distortion like heat over summer stone. Blue and silver at the edges. Ancient.
One hundred and twelve outer and inner disciples lined up at the entrance.
Wen Dao stood in line and looked at the distortion.
He stepped through.