Word of their victory over Zhan Wei spread through the lower levels of the tower like wildfire. When the trio emerged from the trial chamber, they were met with a new kind of attention. The other aspirants who had passed their own trials now looked at them with a mixture of respect and wary appraisal. They were no longer just three mismatched wanderers; they were a force to be acknowledged.
Before they could even find their assigned quarters, the tower itself seemed to hum with a new energy. A resonant voice, ancient and powerful, echoed through every hall. "All ascended aspirants, gather in the Grand Hall. The Ascension Ritual is to begin."
Jian Ming's eyes widened. "This is it," he said, his voice low. "This isn't just another trial. This is where they sort the wolves from the sheep. Our power will be measured, ranked, and our future paths in this tower will be decided."
The Grand Hall was a cavernous space, its ceiling so high it was lost in shadow. Hundreds of aspirants stood in tense silence. On a raised dais sat the tower's elders and masters, their gazes sweeping over the new generation like eagles judging their prey. In the center of the hall, on an ancient altar, rested hundreds of perfectly smooth, neutral grey stones.
An elder with a voice like cracking stone stepped forward. "Each of you has proven your will. Now, we shall measure your foundation. You will each take a Seed Stone. Pour your essence into it. The stone will reveal the nature and depth of your Vein—your path of power. Your rank will determine the resources, techniques, and masters you have access to. Do not falter."
The hierarchy was made clear immediately. A proud youth, his robes embroidered with a golden crane, stepped forward. When he touched a stone, it erupted in a brilliant, golden light. "A Golden Vein!" the elder declared. Applause thundered through the hall. He was the elite, the favored.
Ci Ying was next from their group. She placed her hand on a stone, and it ignited with a fierce, crackling orange flame that danced like a living thing. "A Fire Vein," an elder murmured, nodding in approval. "Potent and pure." She was ranked as a high-tier Silver, a powerful and respected path.
When Jian Ming stepped up, his stone did not shine. Instead, ancient and complex symbols swam across its surface like ink in water. "A Memory Vein," another master recognized, leaning forward with interest. "Exceedingly rare. Not a path of combat, but its value is immeasurable." He, too, was given the rank of a specialized Silver.
Then, it was Bu He's turn. A hush fell over the hall. The whispers were audible: "The Mismatched one…" "The boy who fights without Qi…" "He defeated Zhan Wei with brute force, he probably doesn't even have a Vein."
Bu He walked to the altar. He picked up a cool, grey stone. He closed his eyes, ignoring the stares and whispers. He didn't think about power or rank. Instead, he poured everything he was into the stone: the memory of the laughing crowd, the sting of the Abbot's words, the agony of the Root of Agony Stance, and the deep, thrumming hunger of his nascent Blood Core.
At first, the stone went dark. It didn't just remain grey; it seemed to actively devour the light around it, turning into a patch of absolute nothingness. The crowd murmured, certain he had failed. The Golden Vein youth smirked.
But then, deep in its void-like core, a single, tiny spark appeared. It was the color of a fresh drop of blood.
The spark pulsed. Once. Twice. Then it grew, not into a brilliant flash, but into a deep, unsettling, crimson glow that seemed to absorb all sound in the hall. It wasn't the proud light of Qi; it was a primal, hungry light. The light of blood.
The elders on the dais shot to their feet. "What is this?" "This Vein… it is not in the records!" "The color of blood… By the ancestors, it's a Heretic Vein!"
The final stage of the ritual began: the Vein Bond, a test of a team's synergy. "Join your stones!" the elder commanded.
Ci Ying and Jian Ming brought their stones next to Bu He's. As their hands touched, a strange thing happened. The blood-red light of Bu He's stone pulsed violently and pulled at the others. Ci Ying's fire was drawn into it, turning the crimson glow into a searing blood-flame. Jian Ming's swimming symbols were absorbed, etching themselves onto the light like veins of black ink. Their three distinct powers had merged into one, creating a unified aura far more potent and menacing than any single Golden Vein.
"Impossible!" an elder gasped. "The Mismatched Vein… it acts as a catalyst! It doesn't just add, it transforms! Such a bond has not been seen in generations!"
The ritual concluded. Their team did not have the pure prestige of the Golden Veins, but they were no longer overlooked. They were now marked, a dangerous and unpredictable new power in the tower's ecosystem.
As they walked from the hall, the Golden Vein youth, Xue Feng, brushed past them. He leaned in close to Bu He, his voice a low snarl. "An anomaly is just something that hasn't been properly broken yet."
Bu He met his gaze, the crimson light still faintly echoing in his eyes. He now had a rank. He had a team. And for the first time, he had a true rival.