Once Max entered the sword gate, the scenery around him changed instantly.
The grand square of the Violet Star Palace disappeared as if it had never existed. The sounds of thousands of people, the pressure of gathered geniuses, and the towering gates all dissolved into nothingness.
A violent current of spatial energy swept past him, making the world blur for a brief mont before everything stabilized again.
When Max opened his eyes fully, he found himself standing alone in a vast arena.
It was an enormous circular battlefield, so wide that even large-scale wars could have been fought within it. The ground beneath his feet was forged from dark tallic stone covered in countless intersecting sword marks.
So were shallow scratches, while others were deep clefts that radiated lingering sharpness. Each scar on the arena floor seed to tell the story of battles fought long ago.
Towering walls rose around the periter, their surfaces engraved with ancient formations that glowed faintly from ti to ti.
Above stretched a gray and endless sky with no sun, no stars, and no visible limit. The entire place felt detached from the outside world, like a sealed dinsion created purely for testing those who entered.
There was no one else present.
There were no spectators, no rivals, and no elders watching from afar.
Only silence and pressure.
Max's eyes moved carefully across the arena as his instincts sharpened. This place was not ordinary. The aura within it was cold, structured, and devoid of any unnecessary emotion. Everything here existed for a single purpose.
To judge.
At that exact mont, a pillar of pale light descended from the sky and enveloped him completely.
Max's body tensed at once, but he quickly realized the light carried no hostility. Instead, it passed through him in layers, scanning every inch of his body.
It moved through flesh, ridians, bloodline, dantian, and aura with frightening precision, as though an unseen intelligence was dissecting his strength without touching him.
A cold chanical voice then echoed through the arena.
[Participant detected.]
[Beginning cultivation assessnt.]
The pale light brightened for several breaths before fading away.
[Assessnt complete.]
[Participant cultivation realm: Ninth Level of Law Awakening Realm.]
Max's gaze sharpened imdiately.
This was no ordinary rune formation. It was an advanced artificial trial system capable of detecting cultivation and tailoring challenges accordingly. The foundation required to create sothing like this was terrifying. Even many great forces would not possess such ans.
Then glowing lines of text ford in the air before him.
[Beginning Supre Tier Assessnt]
[Sword Trial Phase One]
[Trial Type: Combat Evaluation]
[Participant Realm: Ninth Level of Law Awakening Realm]
[Assigned Opponents: 100 Combat Puppets]
[Opponent Strength Standard: Five Levels Above Participant]
[Opponent Current Realm: Fifth Level of Law Refinent Realm]
Max read every line without blinking.
Law Refinent Realm was already beyond his current realm, and these puppets would not rely be one level higher. They would stand five full levels above him within that realm. For most so-called geniuses, such a trial would be impossible.
The glowing text shifted once more.
[Reward Determination Rule]
[The number of Combat Puppets defeated will determine the level of Sword Inheritance granted for comprehension.]
[Low Performance: Basic Sword Inheritance]
[Qualified Performance: Advanced Sword Inheritance]
[Outstanding Performance: Elite Sword Inheritance]
[Exceptional Performance: Supre Sword Inheritance]
A final line then appeared slowly.
[If unable to conquer, survive.]
Max looked at the ssage for several monts before a faint smile ford on his face.
So this trial did not care about status, background, or bloodline. It only cared about results. If one wanted a greater inheritance, one had to seize it through battle.
Suddenly, the arena trembled.
At the far edges of the battlefield, one hundred stone doors rose from the ground in a perfect circle. Their surfaces split open one after another with deep tallic sounds that echoed across the empty arena.
From within them erged figures clad in black armor.
They were humanoid in shape, tall and broad-shouldered, with expressionless tal faces and eyes glowing crimson. In each of their hands was a sword of identical design. Their movents were smooth, disciplined, and unnaturally precise.
One after another, they stepped forward until all one hundred stood on the battlefield.
Then their auras erupted together.
The pressure of a hundred enemies at the Fifth Level of Law Refinent Realm surged outward like a violent storm. Even the air seed to grow heavier beneath their combined presence.
Yet Max did not retreat a single step.
He took out his sword flickering with severing sword concept.
Seven colored lightning flickered faintly around his fingers as battle intent rose steadily from his body. His gaze locked onto the advancing puppets without the slightest trace of fear.
He understood that this battle would decide the quality of inheritance he received.
If he perford poorly, he would leave with scraps.
If he dominated, he would seize a sword legacy that countless geniuses would envy.
Max tightened his grip on the hilt.
A dangerous smile gradually appeared on his face as he stared at the army before him.
If the inheritance was decided by kills, then he had only one goal.
He would take the highest reward this arena could offer.
With that the one hundred Combat Puppets began to move.
They did not rush forward like mindless machines. Their steps were asured, synchronized, and terrifyingly disciplined. The first ranks advanced directly toward Max while the outer lines curved outward to surround him from both flanks. Rear units held position with swords raised, clearly prepared to strike the instant an opening appeared.
It was the formation of an army.
Max imdiately understood that this trial was not rely testing raw strength. It was testing how a participant handled overwhelming pressure, superior cultivation, and coordinated enemies all at once.
Yet there was no fear in his eyes.
Instead, a dangerous calmness spread across his face.
He inhaled slowly, and in the next instant, seven-colored lightning erupted from within his body.
The seven currents rged around Max's body, coursing through his flesh, bones, ridians, and bloodline.
The Storm King's Inheritance had awakened.
His muscles tightened with explosive force. His senses sharpened dramatically. Even the air around him began to distort under the violent pressure of divine lightning.
Cracks spread beneath his feet.
Then Max vanished.
A thunderous explosion rang across the arena as he crossed the battlefield in a single burst of speed. Before the leading puppets could fully react, Max appeared before them and swung his sword in a simple horizontal slash.
There was no profound sword art behind the strike.
There was no dazzling inheritance technique.
It was rely a basic sword slash taught to beginners.
Yet in Max's hands, enhanced by seven-colored lightning and terrifying timing, that ordinary strike cut through three puppet necks in one motion. Their armored heads spun into the air before their bodies even realized they had died.
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