The pressure left behind by Shan Gu's presence did not vanish all at once.
It faded slowly, like a weight lifting off the mountain's shoulders, leaving behind an uncomfortable awareness that something vast was still there—watching, listening, judging. The stone stopped humming. The wind returned in hesitant breaths. Birds did not.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then someone finally broke the silence.
"…So," LagPoke said carefully, "we just got quest-gated by a mountain god."
"That was not a god," Unbroken replied flatly.
LagPoke paused. "Okay. Stone serpent god-adjacent."
A few people laughed, but it was thin and nervous. The laughter died quickly.
Scattered across the plateau, players pushed themselves upright, brushing dust from their clothes, checking limbs, flexing fingers. No injuries. No damage. Not even soreness.
Which somehow made it worse.
Gachagami sat hugging his knees, staring at the cliff face where the eye had been.
"…It breathed," he muttered. "It didn't even try."
Ironroot didn't respond. He was crouched near the stone, running his hand over the surface, eyes narrowed in deep concentration.
"The pressure patterns are gone," he said quietly. "But the structural integrity is unchanged. It didn't damage anything."
"That's comforting," StoneBit said weakly. "In a terrifying way."
Footsteps echoed across the plateau.
Lin Yuan approached, calm and unhurried.
The group instinctively straightened.
He didn't raise his voice. He didn't call for attention.
He simply stopped at the center of the plateau and waited.
Noise faded on its own.
When everyone was finally quiet, Lin Yuan spoke.
"We have been given a condition," he said.
No embellishment. No dramatic pause.
"Until it is fulfilled, this mountain is not ours."
Someone swallowed audibly.
"We are not allowed to build," Lin Yuan continued. "We are not allowed to damage the land. We are not allowed to act recklessly."
He let his gaze move across the group.
"If you do," he added calmly, "the mountain will remove you. Permanently."
That landed harder than any shout.
"This is not a game objective," Lin Yuan said. "It is permission."
Warbound nodded slowly, already understanding.
"So we hunt," Warbound said. "Clean. Controlled. Counted."
"Yes," Lin Yuan replied.
A murmur spread through the group.
"Five hundred is insane."
"If we die, does it still count?"
"Rank One only, right?"
Lin Yuan raised a hand—not sharply, just enough.
"Listen."
The murmurs stopped.
"The condition is simple," Lin Yuan said. "Kill five hundred Rank One beasts that live within Broken Cloud Mountain."
He held up one finger.
"Only Rank One."
A second finger.
"Only inside the mountain."
A third.
"No damage to the mountain's veins."
He lowered his hand.
"Any violation," he said evenly, "fails the condition."
No threats followed.
He didn't need to add them.
Gachagami raised his hand slowly.
"…Hypothetically," he said, "what happens if someone accidentally pokes the mountain wrong?"
Lin Yuan looked at him.
"…Then they won't get a second chance."
Gachagami lowered his hand immediately.
Behind Lin Yuan, the system interface shimmered faintly, visible only to him. For the first time since the trial began, a new function unlocked.
Not flashy.
Not generous.
Just a board.
Lin Yuan glanced at it once, then spoke again.
"I am announcing the first mission of this sect," he said.
That word—sect—made several people straighten unconsciously.
"This mission applies to everyone," Lin Yuan continued. "Participation is mandatory if you wish to remain here."
He didn't say reward.
He didn't say failure penalty.
He simply stated fact.
"The objective is the same as the mountain's condition," he said. "Cull Rank One beasts. Five hundred total."
He paused.
"And to survive this," Lin Yuan added, "you will need something more than courage."
The system responded.
A subtle pressure spread outward from Lin Yuan, not heavy, not oppressive—more like a resonance, a shared rhythm. It did not force itself into their bodies. It did not rewrite anything.
It offered a method.
"This is the first sect technique," Lin Yuan said.
The words appeared in their awareness, not as glowing text, but as understanding—fragmented, incomplete, waiting to be filled by effort.
Basic Body Refining Technique.
"…Wait," DustLine said slowly. "That's it?"
Ironroot frowned. "That's not a skill. That's a foundation method."
"Exactly," Lin Yuan said.
He did not explain immediately.
Instead, he demonstrated.
Lin Yuan planted his feet on the stone, shoulder-width apart. He bent his knees slightly, straightened his back, and inhaled—slowly, deeply.
The movement was simple.
Too simple.
Then he exhaled.
The stone beneath his feet cracked.
Not violently. Not explosively.
Just a shallow fracture spreading outward like a spiderweb.
Several players sucked in sharp breaths.
"That's body refining?" StoneBit asked.
"Yes," Lin Yuan replied.
He straightened and looked at them.
"This technique does not grant you Qi attacks," he said. "It does not increase your realm."
A few disappointed groans sounded.
"It strengthens muscle fibers," Lin Yuan continued. "It toughens bones. It improves endurance and recovery."
He met their eyes one by one.
"It allows you to survive being hit."
The groans stopped.
"You will feel pain," Lin Yuan said. "You will feel fatigue. You will feel soreness."
A few people shifted uncomfortably.
"You will not master it instantly," he added. "And you will not be protected from stupidity."
Gachagami flinched.
Warbound stepped forward slightly. "How long until it works?"
Lin Yuan answered honestly.
"That depends on how much effort you put in," he said. "And how many times you're willing to fail."
The technique did not activate on its own.
There was no confirmation sound. No sudden boost.
Players tried it anyway.
Some immediately dropped into awkward stances.
"Ow—why does my back hurt?"
"Am I supposed to breathe like this?"
"This feels like leg day but personal."
Ironroot watched carefully.
"Your posture is wrong," he said to StoneBit, adjusting his stance. "If you keep that angle, you'll tear something."
Unbroken demonstrated silently—slow, controlled movements that mirrored Lin Yuan's form almost perfectly.
People copied him instinctively.
Gachagami tried.
He bent his knees too far, leaned forward too much, wobbled—and somehow ended up in a position that avoided strain entirely.
"…Why does this not hurt?" he whispered.
No one answered.
After nearly an hour of trial, error, and a surprising amount of groaning, Warbound clapped his hands once.
"Alright," he said. "Enough flailing. We organize."
No one objected.
"We split into small hunting teams," Warbound continued. "Five to six per group. No solo heroics."
He pointed to Unbroken. "Frontline deterrent."
To Ironroot. "Terrain and safety."
He gestured to several minor IGNs. "Support. Spotters. Retrieval."
No titles were assigned. No authority declared.
People followed anyway.
Lin Yuan watched silently.
This was what he wanted.
Not obedience.
Competence.
As teams formed and prepared to move deeper into Broken Cloud Mountain, distant cries echoed through the stone valleys—low, feral sounds that raised the hair on the back of the neck.
Rank One beasts.
Close enough to hear.
Lin Yuan looked toward the mountain slopes.
"Five hundred," he murmured to himself.
"This isn't a mission."
"It's a test of whether this sect deserves to exist."