The forest was alive around them even as an early winter chill permeated the air viciously.

Squirrels regarded the gathered humans with chittering curiosity as the morning sun sprawled out over the road lazily. A few birds chirped half heartedly as they reminisced of the lost spring.

“Okay, listen carefully,” Zhao announced to the gathered villagers with the demeanor of one who was used to giving orders.

“The first test will be a run from this line,” he indicated the one Bai Chi had carved into the ground, “to another on the other side of the mountain pass.”

Pulling an incense stick from his robe, Zhao waved it as he continued, “You have until the incense burns down to complete the run. Any questions?”

In front of him the mortals shuffled nervously, excited children bouncing at the feet of jumpy adults. Waiving the age requirement of recruits was unheard of, and though many of the young men and women gathered would love to set foot on the path of cultivation, there was an unease at the change.

Second chances were rarely free. Even in this world the Earthling phrase ‘if it seems too good to be true, it probably is’ was felt if not known by its inhabitants.

“Ready?” Zhao yelled as the group formed a rough line, and then a breath later, “Begin!”

As he watched them take off, Zhao’s eyes narrowed at one applicant in particular. Whereas everyone he had met so far sported the classic black hair, black eyes, and a pale to tan Asian complexion, this young lady subtly broke the mold.

Though from a distance her hair could be mistaken for plain black, up close it became apparent that it was a deep unnatural navy. By itself that might set off Zhao’s main character detector, but on top of that the young woman’s eyes were a glacial arctic blue.

Her status couldn’t be more obvious to him.

Zhao had instantly become suspicious of the girl based on her appearance and pressed the village Elder for her background only to be disgusted by his behavior.

After informing Zhao that she had moved to the village with her parents and then been orphaned by an outbreak of disease, the old geezer had insinuated that she was an outcast and that Zhao should ‘feel free to act as his heart desires without fearing repercussions’.

Ignoring the innuendo, Zhao’s apprehension only increased when he took her age down as seventeen. One year too old for recruitment under normal conditions. It was extraordinarily lucky for her that the age limit had been lifted for their expedition… questionably so.

While the villagers ran down the winding road in an effort to prove their worthiness, Zhao cut through the forest to emerge at the finish line with the burning incense in his hand. He set it down next to a tree, which Gu Hong would eventually mark based on how burnt down the incense was as the recruits passed.

Pulling Che Fang aside from the finish line, he instructed his companion to send the young woman to him once she had finished the first test.

In Zhao’s opinion a more detailed evaluation needed to be carried out privately, rather than risk exposing any unique qualities to the world. Rumors would be impossible to pin down, after all.

Walking back into the forest, Zhao launched himself up a pine tree near enough to be spotted by his companions but out of sight of the mortals. Given the fantastical nature of the world, any of the behemoth branches could have supported his weight ten times over.

With practiced breaths he circulated both the Rotating Breath and Misty Breath, causing mist to spill from his nose like steam from a dragon’s maw. Che Fang’s hypothesized outcome had held true: while each art held niche utility individually, when combined the amplified effect was useful.

At least, it would be eventually. With his low proficiency it was little more than a parlor trick that made Zhao seem mysterious to mortals.

He had also seen limited success with the Phases of the Moon movement art, which was unsurprising given how basic it was. When faced with the more complicated arts, Zhao found his comprehension lacking.

In addition, the art that he had personally selected, Daydreamer’s Bliss, had so far proved useless.

A creeping suspicion that he had made a mistake in selecting it niggled at him constantly. But that sense was nothing compared to the abnormal paranoia Zhao constantly felt whispering that an attack was imminent.

Initially Zhao had attempted to dismiss the feeling as the workings of an overactive imagination, given his apprehensions about their journey. However, the longer it festered the more certain he became that it was not a naturally occurring phenomenon.

Internal investigation revealed it was the result of the Myriad Voices.

He had hoped that his experience with psychosis when trapped by the demonic cultivator was an isolated incident, but the foreign emotions that intruded upon Zhao had begun occasionally crystallizing into snippets of conversations.

Zhao was just glad he had maintained a ban on others practicing the corrupted mantra.

Unlike his first experience, there were no indecipherable voices or immaterial faces haunting him. Instead he had to wrestle with a constantly rising dread that spawned insistent thoughts that he was in danger.

At times he would hear people that weren’t there casually discussing how they would murder the mortals under Zhao’s protection.

The dark circles he knew hung under his eyes were proof enough that he was once again losing control of his mind. What made it worse was that operating the Myriad Voices Art was the only source of relief.

Every practice session left him feeling refreshed, only for the intrusive thoughts to return in greater force soon after. Zhao felt like an alcoholic in the throes of addiction.

With a huff mist spilled down from his nose, spiraling off the bark of the rough branch he sat on. In the distance the prospective recruits raced along treacherous mountain trails according to directions carved into trees and stones.

Beyond, the vista of an unfathomably large mountain range soared over them into the clouds.

The area was colloquially known as the end of the world. In practice it was the end of the Misty Cradle Sect’s territory, as even Core Formation experts struggled to explore the unnamed mountains shielding the far north.

Zhao had decided early on that their recruitment would formally begin here, at the northernmost village under the Misty Cradle’s protection, and continue as they headed back to the sect.

Adopting such methodology created the awkward situation of having to pass through a multitude of villages without testing their children, but they could not afford to drag dozens of people with them to the outskirts of the sect’s territory and then back again.

He had promised many village elders that giving them advanced notice was actually a favor since their children could ‘train’ for the sect’s test. The ridiculous argument had been just enough to overcome the unceasing protests of the mortals.

Rolling his eyes, Zhao snapped out of his daze to the sound of feet trampling through crisp pine needles. He belatedly realized the young woman he had singled out was approaching the base of his perch at Che Fang’s direction.

Centering his mind briefly with a quick cycle of the Myriad Voices Art helped dismiss his anxiety. Once ready, he dropped down to the forest floor and landed with enough force to scatter a handful of detritus into the air.

His target startled before quickly bowing hesitantly. “This mortal greets the honored immortal master.”

Snorting in response to the title, Zhao put on an amicable smile. “What is your name?” he asked politely, despite already having been informed by the village’s head.

After a second of hesitation the response came, “Wu Hua, sir.” Zhao nodded at her confirmation, noting a wariness hidden behind Wu Hua’s eyes.

Straightening his back, Zhao continued, “I am sure you are wondering why I have separated you from the others. To be blunt, your physical features stand out; your eyes and your hair in particular.”

His assessment caused an outward distrust to manifest, Wu Hua tightening like a coiled spring.

“I am not interested in dual cultivation!” she snapped angrily, catching Zhao off guard. He opened and closed his mouth stupidly after having inadvertantly offended a potential main character.

In hindsight he realized the situation he had setup could have easily been misinterpreted. Wracking his brain for a solution, he quickly settled on the truth.

“Wu Hua, I am afraid you have misunderstood the purpose of our meeting,” Zhao said dumbly. “I brought you away from the villagers to test your affinity away from prying eyes. I suspect that your unique physical characteristics-” Zhao coughed in embarrassment, “-may be manifestations of a bloodline or another blessing.”

Counterintuitively, his explanation only made her tense up further. “Who sent you?!” she screamed shrilly, abruptly erupting with the power of the 5th level of Qi Condensation.

Zhao immediately acted on instinct, his own cultivation base instantly suppressing the young woman mercilessly. As she stood frozen in fear by the force of his intent, Zhao took a moment to consider the situation he found himself in.

First, Wu Hua had specifically used the term ‘dual cultivation’, which should have been alien not only to mortals but also low tiered cultivators.

Second, she had overreacted to his mention of a bloodline.

Third, she was a cultivator hiding herself in a mortal village as far from civilization as one could get.

The only logical conclusion was that Wu Hua was a character escaping from either her family or an even more powerful force.

With a serious look, Zhao approached the trembling woman.

“Listen,” he said quietly, “I do not care about your history. If you truly wish to join my Misty Cradle Sect you may, though this will require I test your affinity, otherwise I would ask you to leave now.”

Having said his part, Zhao released the intent that bore down on Wu Hua.

With a gasp the young lady regained control of herself and wiped cold sweat from her face. Her eyes briefly flickered around the forest searching for an avenue of escape before the cultivator apparently made peace with her fate.

Holding out a hand, she manifested a strand of Qi for the test Zhao needed to perform.

With a nod Zhao pulled out a pearlescent orb from his storage bag and placed it in Wu Hua’s open palm. A quick tug of his Qi activated the internal array from its inert state, almost like flicking a light switch.

Lights danced inside the sphere as it ran the cultivator equivalent of mind bending calculations. Zhao knew that the device was both sending its Qi through the young woman’s body and accepting her own for examination.

In a matter of moments an azure hue spread like ink dropped in water from the section of the crystalline surface that Wu Hua’s palm rested against. The complex formation of Qi performing the assessment sent Zhao feedback more intuitive than concrete.

“I’ll need to run a subsequent test,” he explained, having the array power up different sections of its network. “The readings indicate you have an abnormal affinity for water, which likely means you resonate with a higher level derivative element.”

Wu Hua nodded grudgingly, likely already knowing what the results of the test would show if Zhao’s estimation of her background was correct.

After powering up, the Qi flashed a startling ivory. The light immediately faded, revealing what appeared to be a snow globe in the young woman’s hand.

Though, given a realistic blizzard was raging inside the glass structure, the term ‘snow globe’ was likely too mundane a descriptor.

“Very well,” Zhao said, “I will falsify your record to hide your affinity for snow and the strength of your spiritual roots.” He wagged a finger at her, “However I would recommend you watch how fast you progress, lest you catch the attention of an Elder and reveal our deception.”

Not wanting to entangle himself further with yet another important character, Zhao made to walk back towards his fellow disciples, only to pause at an exclamation from Wu Hua. “Zhao Mi, please wait.”

Turning, Zhao raised an eyebrow at the fugitive.

“To prevent the sowing of karma between us, I must present you with something of equal value to your assistance,” Wu Hua explained tiredly. Extending a hand, a scroll flew from the depths of her sleeve to Zhao.

As he caught it Zhao read the ancient text scrawled on the parchment: Frozen Presence.

“The art allows one to suppress their cultivation,” Wu Hua said brusquely. Immediately after saying so, she took off to trek back towards the road.

Swallowing, Zhao stored the art in his spatial bag, stowing away the question of where Wu Hua had been hiding it. With a shake of his head he also set off.

In his heart he hoped that helping the young renegade would not come back to bite him.