SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS

A week had passed. The moon had completed its silent arc across the heavens seven times, yet Kent still stood motionless before the sacred Immortal Living Pool.

Not a moment of sleep, not a single bite of food, not even a drop of water had touched his lips. And yet—he remained untouched by fatigue, hunger, or weariness. This was the miracle of the Immortal Living Pool, a sacred place where divine energy saturated every breath of air, every blade of grass, and even the stillness of time itself.

Kent stood barefoot on the smooth, crystalline platform extending just inches above the lake’s edge, his posture as upright as a soldier carved from jade. Both hands moved slowly, forming intricate formations in the air—gestures of ancient spells, symbols of elemental movements, and personal patterns born from instinct. His fingers flowed with a rhythm born of obsession, precision, and endless failure.

Before him, like a forbidden dream, sat the Water Goddess.

Or rather—her image. A figure of pure water in the shape of a woman, cross-legged in meditation atop the grandest lotus in the entire pool. That lotus, with its 1008 radiant leaflets, gleamed under the eternal glow of the pool, and the woman seated upon it seemed not just sacred, but eternal. Gentle ripples moved outward from her, and from the heavens—or perhaps from her presence itself—rain fell perpetually.

Not ordinary rain.

No disciple, no elder, no creature—even spirit beasts—could reach her. For every droplet carried an invisible, divine intent. The moment one touched a person’s skin, they would be teleported back to the edge, as though time itself rejected their presence near her.

And Kent… had failed more than six hundred times.

He had used the Blinking Wind Steps. Failed.

He had tried the Void Pulse Shift spell. Failed.

He had summoned the Storm Wings from his Storm God inheritance. Failed again.

He had poured lightning into his limbs to increase his speed, merged space threads into his footwork, even activated three different illusion techniques to confuse the divine droplets.

None worked.

Every time he advanced more than ten steps toward the center, a drop would fall upon his shoulder, or graze his cheek, or strike his ankle. He would blink—and find himself back at the edge, heart pounding, fists clenched.

But he never screamed.

Never cursed.

Never gave up.

Now, after seven days, he no longer advanced. He stood still—and observed.

Countless droplets fell in silence, forming soft ripples in the still water.

His eyes—bloodshot yet unwavering—followed each droplet. Their descent, their timing, their pattern, their path. A thousand fell every minute, yet somehow, someway, there had to be a truth hidden in their chaotic beauty.

“It’s not randomness,” he whispered under his breath, eyes narrowing. “There’s… rhythm.”

He didn’t even know if he was right. But something in his blood told him the answer lay not in overwhelming the pool, but understanding it.

He remembered Elder Liam’s voice:

“You need to master a movement to avoid these rain drops and reach her. The answer lies in this pool.”

What movement? A physical one? A magical one? Or perhaps… a spiritual one?

Kent’s hands stopped for a moment.

He stepped lightly on the surface of the water.

A single droplet brushed his hair—

He blinked—

And reappeared at the starting point again.

“…Tch.” He exhaled, shaking his head.

Still not enough.

He sat down cross-legged and closed his eyes. His pets—the Spraky, Sky Flame Eagle, the Thunder Hound, the Black Feathered Bird—watched from afar, not daring to disturb him. Their young minds could feel it—the sacredness of this place, and the intensity of their master’s will.

Inside Kent’s mind, the scene of falling droplets played again and again.

He wasn’t trying to fight the pool anymore. He was trying to listen to it. Feel it.

The lake wasn’t an enemy. The rain wasn’t a punishment.

It was a message. A test. And somewhere in the way those droplets danced through the air… was an invitation. He just hadn’t learned how to read it yet.

Hours passed. The sacred moon of the realm reached its zenith. A soft glow shimmered across the pool’s surface.

And Kent slowly opened his eyes. There was no joy in them. No realization.

Just resolve.

“I don’t care if it takes another week,” he murmured. “I’ll stay. I’ll stay until I understand.”

He rose once again.

His feet touched the edge.

His eyes locked on the figure in the center.

And for the 679th time, Kent King stepped forward. But just after 6 steps, he teleported back to his starting place.

“Ahhh…” Kent cried out angrily. If it is any other person, they would leave this place right away out of frustration. But for Kent, these irritating things make him focus more on the task.

—

The moment the announcement of the Prime Disciple Selection Tournament swept through the Immortal Living Pool Academy, it ignited a firestorm.

From the inner courts to the outer training grounds, every disciple—whether seasoned, overlooked, or newly risen—began preparing like never before. Whispers became open conversations, and speculations bloomed like spring-weeds.

“They’re really holding it this time?”

“After a whole decade of silence… they must be desperate.”

“Have you seen the prize list? It’s no joke.”

Within hours, the news had turned into a tempest.

The Golden Heir Tournament was not just a chance to showcase the might of disciples across various immortal sects—it was a gateway to fortune, fame, and a place among the elite. For the Immortal Living Pool Academy, the past ten years of humiliation had weighed heavily. Once the undisputed champions, now forgotten-shadows. But this year, the elders had decided to make their comeback.

And to lead that comeback—they needed a prime.

Lady Mu Yang, the noble scion of the Yang family, received the news while cultivating atop the Wind-Petal Pavilion. She immediately entered seclusion, knowing that stabilizing her Late Earth Immortal Wizard realm would be vital. A single breakthrough now could cement her place as the top contender.

Yi Zhao, arrogant and sharp-eyed, stormed into the Academy Hall. “Give me the Twin Sun Merge Technique,” he demanded, slamming his jade badge onto the desk. “I’ll return it with glory.”