Han quickly spotted the catch with these two techniques. Low-grade, sure, but tangled as a knot. Normally, given a choice, no one would bother with such convoluted martial arts or daoist spells. But for a trial like this? Perfect fit.


    When it came to comprehension, Han figured he had a decent knack for it. After parsing every line of the Flying Cloud Sword Art and Tempest Rain Technique, he dove right in. This was where a bit of book-smarts paid off. A martial or daoist illiterate—someone who couldn’t even read the instructions—would be dead in the water here, let alone practice. Imagine a Skin-Flesh realm grunt who’d muddled through a martial hall, mimicking moves without grasping the theory. Even if they’d lucked past the first trial, this second one would’ve been their brick wall.


    But hypotheticals didn’t matter—those types wouldn’t have survived the devils anyway.


    To the onlookers, Han’s progress looked simple: clear the first trial, take a few steps, stop, and start waving his fingers like a sword. Tianhe Venerable stared, dumbfounded. Black Cloud’s top genius carries a weapon, right? Just pull out your sword and practice! What’s with the air guitar?


    Still, Han wasn’t the main show now. Tianhe shifted his focus to the stragglers still wrestling with the first trial. Soon enough, another figure stirred. “It’s the Suzhen Saintess!” Jiang Yanyao, second to break through.


    Suzhen Palace’s Yin God elder cracked a smile. Without Han, their saintess would’ve been first. The crowd started connecting dots—Han was a local, maybe his trial was dialed down a notch. Pair that with his prodigy status, and him taking the lead made sense.


    “Saintess Jiang’s talent is unrivaled—truly impressive,” Tianhe nodded, genuinely impressed. Her future? Sky-high—probably beyond his reach. Suzhen Palace’s saintesses had a flawless track record, every one soaring past the Yellow Spring Earth-Shattering realm. Two living saintesses meant two future titans. Talent like that? Undeniable.


    A Yin God from Tianzhou’s Ten Paths Hall piped up, “Friend Tianhe, what’s the bar for passing the first trial?”


    “Performance against the devils,” Tianhe explained. “You all know devils aren’t something this generation should face—no one can…” He paused, catching himself, “…almost no one can wipe them out at this stage.”


    Heads bobbed in agreement. Devils were a high-level headache, not a rookie’s problem. If the Yun family set “kill the devil” as the bar, it’d be a ghost town of failures—unless someone had a rare anti-demon treasure up their sleeve.


    “So,” Tianhe continued, “resist the devil’s assault right off the bat, don’t get crushed instantly, and hold out for a bit—that’s a pass. Once you’re through, the ancestor’s power snuffs out the devil, leaving its essence behind as a reward.”


    Someone frowned. “But Han cleared it way too fast. At that speed, the devil barely had time to mess with him.”


    Tianhe sighed internally. You’re not wrong—it didn’t even get a chance. The devil poked Han and got smoked on the spot. Did it want to hang around? Nope—couldn’t. Han snagged the essence without the ancestor lifting a finger. But Tianhe kept it vague. “Han’s time was short, but his showing was exceptional—well beyond our benchmark.”


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    He dodged the full truth, partly to shield Han from prying eyes coveting his devil-slaying trick, partly to avoid freaking everyone out. “Hold out for a bit,” and you counter-kill it? If he hadn’t seen it himself, Tianhe wouldn’t have bought it. But he had—and that’s why he and the Yun family’s shadow-watchers were so floored. Han was off the script.


    Oblivious to his overkill, Han figured the devil trial meant “take it down.” He’d done alright, he thought—passing muster. Time ticked by. He stopped mid-motion, gauged the clock, and grinned. Still plenty of leeway before the second trial’s deadline, and he’d already nailed both techniques.


    Drawing Taibai, he called out, “Senior, please judge!” His move yanked every eye—seen, not heard—toward him. They got the gist: he was ready for grading. This Black Cloud hotshot moves at warp speed!


    Han raised his hand, sword flashing, targeting a massive tree a few meters thick. Quick—blindingly quick—sword shadows rained down, carving deep gashes into the trunk. Outside, where cultivators’ sharp senses caught the action from Black Mountain’s edge, someone muttered, “That’s… not mastered, right?” Han’s strength should’ve shredded that tree like paper, yet it stood.


    Then—boom, boom, boom!—a chain of blasts erupted. Wood chips flew, a chunk of the tree vanished, and it crashed down. “He’s got it,” Tianhe said slowly. “Flying Cloud Sword Art—swift as a flying blade, but the real kicker’s the hidden edge. It strikes fast, then buries a subtle force inside, rupturing the target from within. Han swung without true qi, barely tapped his physical strength, yet still moved like lightning and planted that Flying Cloud force. That’s mastery’s first step.”


    As Tianhe spoke, Han sheathed Taibai. The air around him churned, vital energy swirling. Black-gleaming water droplets formed, then plunged in unison—a torrential downpour. Tempest Rain Technique! Explosions followed, and a deep crater yawned where the rain hit—way more blatant than the sword art’s subtlety.


    “Tempest Rain Technique,” Tianhe noted. “Straight-up assault spell. Brutal and to the point.”


    “He’s… cleared the second trial?” someone asked.


    “Yup,” Tianhe confirmed, checking the time with a complicated look. Han had used just a sixth of the allotted window. Black Cloud’s top dog wasn’t just hype—his comprehension was monstrous.


    With a flicker of power, Tianhe conjured two texts in the air. “Here’s what Han faced. Take a look, judge the difficulty yourselves. Saintess Jiang’s got the same pair.” These weren’t Yun family secrets—just fair game for a test. For these big-shot factions, low-tier stuff like this wasn’t worth their time anyway.


    The crowd studied the techniques, sizing up the challenge. For young cultivators at this stage? Not a cakewalk. “Kids these days are something else,” Cui Xian marveled.


    Suzhen’s Yin God elder chuckled, “Makes me wanna bend the rules and snatch him up for the palace.” A jest—Suzhen’s women-only policy was ironclad.


    Praise rolled in—Han’s second-trial blitz hit harder than the first. Jiang Hengchuan’s urgency spiked. Lu Qingmo, you’re barely thirty-something—how’re you fumbling this? Grab him already!


    Under Han’s gaze, the black-and-white trees dissolved into dust, fading into the woods. “Keep going,” Tianhe’s voice echoed in his ear. Han strode forward without a second thought.


    The crowd watched his back, emotions tangled. The devil trial? Maybe he had a niche anti-demon edge—impressive, but not earth-shattering to some. Devils plagued high-tier cultivators plenty, sure, but those folks had their own tricks. Low-to-mid-tier devil-busting skills? Cool, but not a game-changer—where’d you even use it outside a freak test like this?


    The second trial, though? Comprehension. That was the real deal. In cultivation, the higher you climbed, the more insight mattered. These seasoned onlookers knew the late game leaned on elusive, mystical breakthroughs—blind grinding lost its punch. One epiphany could rocket you skyward. Han’s display screamed potential—way more critical than devil tricks.


    If警方 They''d reevaluate him even higher now. If Han caught wind of their thoughts, he’d sigh. Lonely at the top—no one gets it. His devil-crushing wasn’t some side perk—it’d saved his hide more times than they’d guess. You’ve no idea the grind I’ve been through!