SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

It was the legendary Immortal Living Pool.

The sacred pool that no disciple was allowed to see. The one said to connect directly with the Heavenly sky Dao itself.

Thousands—no, tens of thousands—of golden lotuses bloomed across its surface, each releasing faint strands of mist-like essence into the air. The very pool rippled with life, as though breathing.

But at its heart… on a grand, divine lotus with 1008 leaflets, a figure sat.

A being shaped entirely from water. Feminine. Serene. Divine.

She was seated in a lotus position, eyes closed, unmoving. Yet from above her, endless droplets of rain—glimmering silver-blue—fell from the mist and disappeared into the pool below.

Kent stepped forward, awestruck.

“Who… is she?”

Elder Liam spoke softly. “She is the Spirit of the Pool. The original consciousness of this mountain. A divine being that formed when the Dao of life, water, and soul merged.”

Kent turned to him.

“You brought me here to…”

“To try,” Liam answered. “Reach-her.”

Kent’s heart thumped.

He stepped forward without hesitation.

But the moment his foot crossed the edge of the pool’s boundary, a single droplet descended from the air.

Before he could react—

Pop!

He was back. At the boundary. As though pulled by time itself.

Kent’s eyes widened. “Teleportation?”

Elder Liam nodded. “Every drop that touches you returns you here. You must reach her… without being touched. Not even once.”

Kent looked at the rain again. It wasn’t heavy. In fact, the droplets fell gently, almost lazily. But they moved in unpredictable patterns, like they were alive.

“You will find the answer in the pool,” Liam said. “It’s not about speed. It’s not about strength. Movement… must come from harmony.”

Kent looked again at the falling droplets.

Each one followed a rhythm—an ancient rhythm that didn’t obey the laws of wind or physics.

“This is your first opportunity,” Liam said, taking a step back. “Succeed… and meet me again. Fail… and you may leave this place forever. I do not waste time on stagnant water.”

Kent turned to ask more, but Elder Liam was already walking away, his silhouette swallowed by the mist.

The pool was silent again.

Except for the sound of falling rain.

Kent stood alone at the edge.

He clenched his fists.

“Not about speed… not about strength.”

He sat down on the grass.

Closed his eyes.

And listened.

The droplets weren’t falling randomly.

They danced.

To a rhythm.

A pattern.

Kent breathed in sync with the sound.

His heartbeat began to align.

Drop. Drop. Pause. Drop. Drop. Long fall. Drop.

His fingers moved, tracing the air where the droplets fell.

He smiled.

“This… is a melody.”

He didn’t move again that night. Not toward the pool.

Instead, he studied the song of the rain.

For this was not a test of bravery…

It was a dance with the Dao itself.

–

Immortal Living Pool Academy…

Morning sunlight streamed through the crystalline windows of the Grand Council Hall of the Immortal Living Pool Academy. The hall stood atop a floating jade platform nestled within the higher elevations of the sacred mountain, veiled in silver mist and surrounded by tranquil energy that carried the scent of divine lotuses and century-old herbs.

Inside the majestic chamber, a dozen elders sat around a wide obsidian stone table. Each chair was crafted from a unique spirit wood, marked by the symbol of the elder’s lineage or contribution. Before each of them, a small porcelain cup steamed gently, filled with emerald herbal tea made from sacred leaves harvested near the immortal pool’s edge.

Elder Liu, a sharp-eyed man with snowy eyebrows, took the first sip and set his cup down with a deep sigh.

“It’s been ten years,” he said, his voice heavy with resignation, “ten long years since the Immortal Living Pool Academy won the Golden Heir Tournament.”

Murmurs of agreement filled the room. Elder Fang tapped his fingers impatiently on the table.

“A decade of humiliation. We were once the jewel among all academies. Every generation, our disciples would shine like heavenly stars and crush those arrogant youths from Fire Sun Pavilion and Azure Lightning Sect,” he grumbled. “Now, we barely pass the elimination rounds!”

“An embarrassment,” Elder Qiao, a dignified woman with phoenix eyes, added coldly. “Our ancestors would curse us from the heavens if they saw our decline.”

Silence fell for a moment, each elder nursing their pride.

It was Elder Chun who broke the silence next, brushing his beard. “The Golden Heir Tournament is months away. We must decide. Who among our current generation will be our candidate—the one we shall support with full resources, guidance, and honor?”

The air tensed.

“Lady Mu Yang,” proposed Elder Hua. “A direct descendant of the Yang family and a prodigious water mage. Her Ice Lotus Scripture is nearing perfection. She was second in last year’s internal combat trials.”

“Lady Mu Yang’s control is indeed impressive,” Elder Chun nodded. “But she lacks aggression. She might freeze a lake, but can she break through the raging flames of the Fire Sun Pavilion’s Yi Zhao?”

Elder Tang leaned forward, his fan tapping his cup. “Then consider Young Master Zi Han. That boy is a storm. Fast, brutal, and talented with twin-blade techniques. He defeated a beast tide during his last mission, alone. Alone!”

Elder Qiao narrowed her eyes. “Zi Han lacks restraint. The moment he meets someone who taunts him, he loses focus.”

More names were mentioned.

“Wu Shen of the Earth Dome Sect bloodline.”

“Sister twins from Elder Mei’s lineage.”

“Li Bo, who mastered the Bronze Mountain Fist at just sixteen.”

Back and forth the elders went, championing their disciples with fervor and pride, until a calm but commanding voice cut through the noise.

“I propose… Kent King.”

All heads turned toward the speaker.

Elder Liam.

Always quiet. Always watching. He rarely proposed names.

“You mean… the boy who passed the test on the throne?” Elder Fang raised an eyebrow.

Elder Qiao looked amused. “The wild one who went with Elder Jill?”

Liam sipped his tea without emotion. “The one who healed the Naga Ancestor.”

The room went silent for a moment.

“Did he really heal him? I still have many doubts about it.” Elder Liu leaned forward, incredulous.

Elder Liam’s gaze was steady. “Ask the Naga Clan if you doubt me. The boy healed an ancient being with a single elixir. His understanding of life essence and divine pulse is unlike anything I’ve seen. He holds three divine affinities—lightning, space, and storm. He doesn’t flaunt them… but he holds them.”

Elder Hua scoffed. “Affinity means little if he has no cultivation foundation.”

“He has the godly essence.” Liam’s voice was flat.

Silence again. This time heavier.

Elder Fang laughed nervously. “You’re exaggerating, surely.”

“He is a sleeping Giant and mysterious. If we can provide resources, He can rule the Golden heir tournament.”

Some elders stirred uneasily.

“I say this,” Liam continued. “Give the boy a chance. Let him compete with the rest. Set a test next month. One grand challenge. Let the strongest win. But if Kent King wins, we give him everything he needs to represent our name.”

Elder Qiao nodded slowly. “A challenge, then. One-month from now.”

“All disciples are eligible,” said Elder Liu. “The victor shall be crowned the Prime-Disciple and shall receive resources, ancient techniques, and guidance from us all.”

“Agreed,” echoed Elder Chun.

Elder Hua pursed his lips. “If he loses, Elder Liam… you will accept that the boy is just another lucky-fool?”

“I will,” Liam said without hesitation. “But if he wins… then the Academy rises again.”

As the elders raised their cups, the decision was sealed.

–

Far below the mist-wreathed peak, Kent sat quietly at the edge of the Living Pool, droplets of divine rain still falling silently before him.

Unaware that in the high halls above, his name, Kent King had been written in fate.

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