Lin Xuan stood up, his posture still proud.

“Dongji Capital, Lin Xuan. Supreme-grade Metal Spirit Root. Sixth Layer of Foundation Establishment. My grandfather is the Northern Guard Marquis of the Immortal Dynasty.”

The atmosphere in the hall subtly tightened.

The Great Chu Immortal Dynasty’s royal capital—Dongji Capital. A direct descendant of the Marquis’ estate. That background carried weight.

The girl in the goose-yellow dress smiled brightly. A nearly transparent flame flickered to life at her fingertips.

“Yunlan Prefecture, Su Wanwan. Illusory Fire Spirit Root. Fifth Layer of Foundation Establishment.”

Xiao Che’s gaze lingered on the transparent flame for a moment as memories surfaced.

Illusory Fire Spirit Root—ranked fifty-eighth on the Spirit Root Rankings. Unpredictable in nature, specializing in mental assaults. In actual combat, often more troublesome than many supreme-grade spirit roots.

Next came a broad-shouldered youth with an honest face. He scratched his head awkwardly.

“Qingyan Prefecture, Wu Hong. Supreme-grade Earth Spirit Root. Rockbound Battle Body. Third Layer of Foundation Establishment.”

Rockbound Battle Body—ranked ninety-eighth on the Divine Physique Rankings. A classic defensive physique. No wonder his blood and vitality felt so solid.

Then a gentle-looking girl in a water-blue dress spoke softly.

“Bibo Prefecture, Shen Qinghe. High-grade Water Spirit Root. Fourth Layer of Foundation Establishment. Born with the ‘Pure Water Body.’ I have some talent in healing and purification.”

The words “Pure Water Body” drew surprised glances. Ranked eighty-second on the Divine Physique Rankings—an exceptional support physique. In any team, such a person would be a treasure.

The sixth was a calm youth with clear eyes.

“Lingxu Prefecture, Lu Mingxin. High-grade Wood Spirit Root. Fifth Layer of Foundation Establishment. Born with the ‘Heart of Formations.’ To me, all things can serve as formation foundations.”

Heart of Formations—rare even beyond supreme-grade spirit roots. Not listed in fixed rankings, but it granted an innate, overwhelming advantage in formations and talismans.

Finally, from by the window came Feng Mohan’s cold voice, accompanied by a faint sword hum.

“Tianjian Prefecture, Feng Mohan. Supreme-grade Metal Spirit Root. Innate Sword Bone. Fifth Layer of Foundation Establishment.”

Innate Sword Bone—ranked fifteenth on the Divine Physique Rankings. A monster born for the sword.

Silence fell.

These seven represented the finest of their respective prefectures. Talent and cultivation alike were exceptional.

And the words “Innate Sword Bone” alone commanded respect.

Bai Ling took in everyone’s reactions, and the faint smile on her lips finally showed.

“Good.” She clapped lightly. “Now that you’ve met each other, let’s talk about something serious.”

“Take a look at this.”

With a flick of her slender hand, a beam of spiritual light shot from her token, forming a clear projection.

The latest Genius Rankings.

“Look carefully.”

Her voice was calm.

“Among the top ten on this list—aside from Senior Brother Zhao Zixiao at number one—the other nine all come from the outer courts.”

Silence deepened.

Xiao Che glanced upward.

Sure enough, from second to tenth place, every affiliation read “Sword Court,” “Battle Court,” “Dao Court”… not a single “Tianshu Court.”

“Surprised?”

Bai Ling’s tone remained even.

“Tianshu Court admits the rarest of geniuses. But precisely because of that, your ambitions are too high, your studies too broad. That becomes your shackle. Outer court disciples specialize in a single path. During the Foundation Establishment stage, they suppress most inner court disciples.”

Lu Mingxin, the calm youth, pondered before speaking.

“Teaching Assistant Bai, do you mean we should specialize now as well?”

“Of course not. Tianshu Court builds the foundation of a skyscraper—it must be solid.”

Her tone shifted slightly upward.

“But that doesn’t mean you can be content being pressed beneath others during the Foundation Establishment stage. Your foundation must be deep—and your rise must be swift. That is what Tianshu Court demands of ‘peerless geniuses.’”

Lin Xuan frowned.

“Then what exactly should we do?”

Her gaze sharpened.

“The two Vice Deans have jointly proposed that Tianshu Court consumes excessive resources without producing results. They’ve suggested cutting our allocation.”

She let that sink in.

“I’ve gathered you here to make one thing clear—”

“The inner court is not untouchable. If you cannot quickly prove your value, then you—and Tianshu Court—will become the Academy’s joke.”

She dismissed the projection and surveyed their young faces.

“For your first proof: in one month, I want to see at least three of you break into the top fifty of the Genius Rankings.”

“Now disperse. Cultivate. Or earn contribution points. Quickly.”

Her gaze lingered faintly on Xiao Che.

“As for internal grievances—so long as no one dies or has their cultivation crippled, the Academy welcomes it.”

She smiled faintly, immortal grace tinged with familiar charm.

“After all… pressure is the best whetstone, isn’t it?”

With that, Bai Ling vanished gracefully through the doorway.

The seven stood in silence for a moment.

Feng Mohan moved first.

Heavy sword in his arms, he strode straight out in a clear direction.

The martial arena where the Genius Ranking monument stood.

Lin Xuan snorted coldly and left as well, his expression dark.

The others exchanged glances before departing one by one.

Soon, only Xiao Che remained.

“Well then. Making money is still the most practical.”

He didn’t head to the Genius Rankings monument, nor did he return to Listening Bamboo Pavilion.

Instead, he followed the map in the Lingxu Profound Mirror.

There stood a towering nine-story pagoda, its surface etched with mysterious patterns, golden light faintly flowing under the sun.

Many disciples entered and exited below, each with a formidable aura.

Above the entrance, three ancient characters shone brilliantly—

Trial Tower.

Xiao Che stepped inside.

The interior entrance was dimly lit. A white-haired old man reclined in a rocking chair, dozing. A chipped teapot rested nearby.

Hearing footsteps, the old man lifted his eyelids slightly.

“New kid? Here to challenge the tower?”

“Yes.” Xiao Che nodded.

“Ten contribution points per attempt.”

The old man lazily extended a hand.

Xiao Che’s face darkened instantly. “That costs money, too?”

The old man scoffed.

“Of course. You brats storm in here daily. Do you think formation operation and puppet repairs are free? Ten points per run. Fair price.”

Xiao Che’s lips twitched.

After silently cursing the Academy logistics department eight hundred times, he reluctantly transferred ten contribution points.

Only then did the old man wave his hand in satisfaction and toss him a token.

A portal opened beside the tower door, revealing hazy light within.

“Go in. If you can’t hold on, crush the token, and you’ll be teleported out. But that still counts as an attempt. No refunds.”

“…Got it.”

Xiao Che replied dryly, then stepped into the light.

The scenery before him shifted instantly.