Harem Link Cultivation System-Chapter 68: The Mouth of the Abyss

The morning of the trials arrived with a silence that felt heavier than the mountain itself. Lin Tian opened his eyes in the dark of his room, the Veil of Tranquil Mist around him. He sat up and rolled back the sleeve of his inner robe. The black veins crawled from his wrist halfway to his elbow now. He prodded the darkest line with a finger. It felt like touching frozen metal.

Seventy-two hours, Su Lan had said. He was down to less than a day.

He dressed quickly, pulling on the sturdy outer disciple robes. He checked his gear: a waterskin, a packet of high-energy rations, a coil of thin, strong rope, and the basic iron sword the Lin Clan had given him. It felt pitifully light in his hand.

It’ll have to do.

He took one last, deep breath in the safe silence of his room, then stepped out into the corridor, letting the Veil’s protection fall behind him. The moment he crossed the threshold, the weight of the sect settled back onto his shoulders. The air in the Outer Candidate Quarters was thick with tension and the smell of cold sweat.

Five hundred disciples milled around the central assembly square, a sea of blue and white robes under the grey dawn sky. The noise was a anxious rumble of muttered strategies, last-minute boasts, and the sharp clink of weapons being checked. Lin Tian moved through the crowd like a ghost, his senses stretched thin. He spotted Zhao Yuming near the front, looking paler than usual. Xu Wen gave him a grim nod from across the way. He didn’t see Feng Jian.

A gong rang. The crowd fell silent.

Elder Shen Ruoyi stood on a raised ice platform at the square’s head, her expression as impassive as the mountain peaks behind her. Two other elders flanked her, their auras pressing down like a mountain.

"The preliminary trial for inner disciple candidacy will now commence," Elder Shen said, her voice carrying without effort. "You will be transported to the trial grounds. Your objective is simple: survive, and retrieve a Frost Core from the center of the domain. The first one hundred to return with a core will advance."

She paused, her gaze sweeping over them. "The trial grounds are the Sunken Caverns beneath the North Peak. The caverns are home to native spirit beasts and... other hazards. Communication between disciples is permitted, but be warned."

Her eyes seemed to linger on Lin Tian for a fraction of a second. "In the darkness, a voice is a beacon. You will find that in a fight, words are a luxury you cannot afford."

No talking during fights. Lin Tian understood. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

"Form ranks of ten," the elder to her right boomed. "Approach the translocation platform."

The disciples shuffled into lines. Lin Tian found himself in a row with strangers, their faces set in masks of determination or fear. He focused on his breathing, on keeping the curse in his arm controlled.

They stepped onto a vast, circular slab of engraved jade. The elders raised their hands in unison. The world dissolved into a blur of blue light and a sensation of being pulled through a keyhole. Lin Tian’s stomach lurched. The noise of the square vanished, replaced by a rushing, howling wind.

Then, nothing.

The light died completely. The sound of the wind cut off, replaced by a silence. He was falling.

System Map.

A grid of soft blue lines painted itself across the darkness behind his eyes. It was a top-down view, like looking at a floor plan drawn in light. He was a small, blinking green dot in the center. Around him, the cavern took shape, a vast, irregular chamber with a high, jagged ceiling. The floor was a chaos of stalagmites and deep fissures. And falling all around him were hundreds of other green dots.

Five hundred dots.

He twisted in the air, orienting himself. The map showed the floor rushing up. He kicked out, aiming for a clear patch between two large rock formations. He hit the ground hard, his knees bending to absorb the impact, his boots skidding on loose stone. The impact jarred up his spine, and the curse in his arm react with a sharp pain. He gritted his teeth and hold it down.

Silence. complete blackness. He could hear his own heart beating in his ears. Then, other sounds began to filter in. A thud of someone landing badly. A crack of bone. A swallowed gasp of pain.

He stayed crouched, perfectly still. His map updated. The green dots were now scattered across the cavern floor. Some weren’t moving. A few were already creeping away, their dots moving slowly. They were blind.

He wasn’t.

The map showed the cavern stretching away into tunnel systems on three sides. The scale was immense. Somewhere in that maze was a Frost Core. And somewhere, likely already hunting, was a dot labeled Feng Jian.

He didn’t see it yet. He rose into a crouch and began to move, his steps careful and silent. The map made it easy for him. He could see the terrain as a pale blue outline. To everyone else, this was a nightmare of stubbed toes and broken ankles. To him, it was a difficult maze.

A green dot moved twenty feet to his left. It was stumbling, arms outstretched. Lin Tian froze, pressing himself against a rock wall. The disciple muttered something under his breath, a terrified, "Where... where am I?"

The moment the words left his mouth, two other green dots on Lin Tian’s map changed. They stopped their random wandering. They turned. They began to move toward the sound.

Voice is a beacon.

The talking disciple must have heard the scuff of approaching feet. He fell silent. It was too late. The two moving dots. Lin Tian’s map didn’t show the fight, only the movement. The three dots merged into a chaotic swirl. There was a thump, then the sound of something being dragged over stone. One of the attacker dots moved away, its color flickering slightly. The other stayed, crouched over the now-still dot of the talker. There was a tearing sound.

Lin Tian turned and moved away. This wasn’t just a trial. It was a feeding ground.

He chose a tunnel mouth on the eastern side of the chamber, one that seemed to slope downward. The map extended ahead of him as he moved, revealing the path in increments. The tunnel was narrow, the ceiling sometimes so low he had to duck. The only sounds were the drip of water somewhere in the distance and the soft scuff of his own boots.

After fifty feet, his map flickered. A new icon appeared ahead, pulsing with a white light. It was off the main tunnel, in a small side room.

The objective? The Frost Core?

He move forward. The room was just ahead. He could hear a low clicking, like two stones being tapped together. His map showed a single, large green dot in the room, but it was different. It had a faint red outline.

He peered around the corner. His map gave him the shape of the space, but not details. The clicking stopped. The red-outlined dot turned toward him.

It launched itself.

Lin Tian threw himself backward. Something whistled through the air where his head had been. He hit the tunnel wall, his map showing the creature as a blur of motion. It was humanoid, but with a twisted long thin limbs. A Cave Ghoul, his mind supplied, remembering a bestiary he’d skimmed in the library. Blind, but with hearing like a bat.

Lin Tian didn’t draw his sword. The metallic ring would echo for miles. He dropped into a low stance as the ghoul lunged again, its claws scraping against the stone where he’d been. He could see its arc on the map. He sidestepped, letting its momentum carry it past him. As it stumbled, he drove his elbow down into the junction of its neck and shoulder. There was a sickening crunch. The green dot on his map spasmed, then went dark.

He stood over the still form, breathing hard. The curse in his arm throbbed in time with his heartbeat. In the room, the white light remained. He stepped over the ghoul and felt around in the darkness. His fingers closed over something about the size of a goose egg. It hummed with a gentle, frosty energy.

A Frost Core.

He’d found one, just like that. It seemed too easy. He tucked it into an inner pocket of his robe. The moment it settled against his chest, his map changed. A new, golden line appeared, tracing a path back through the tunnels, leading out.

An exit guide.

And simultaneously, every green dot on his map within a certain radius, dozens of them , paused. Then, they all began to move. They were all moving toward him.

The core. Carrying it was like a signal in the dark. It drew every disciple who could sense spiritual energy, and everything that hunted them.

He started to run, following the golden path on his map. He had to get out, now. The tunnel twisted and turned, branching often. His map showed the pursuing dots closing in from multiple side passages. He was faster; he could see the path. They were blind, but they could sense the core, and they were funneling toward him like water toward a drain.

A green dot appeared directly ahead, blocking the narrow tunnel. It stood still. As he got closer, the dot on his map resolved a name: Lu Cang.

Of course. The disciple he’d defeated to reach rank twenty-seven. Lu Cang couldn’t see him, but he could feel it coming. He’d planted himself in the only exit.

Lin Tian didn’t have time for a duel. He could hear the scuffling footsteps of the mob behind him getting closer. He poured on speed, his feet silent on the stone. Lu Cang must have heard the faint rush of air. He brought his sword up in a guard position, his body tense.

At the last second, he dropped onto his back and slid between Lu Cang’s legs, the disciple’s sword swishing through empty air above him. Lin Tian was up and running again before Lu Cang could even turn around.

The golden path led to a steep, natural chimney in the rock, leading upward. A sliver of grey light filtered down from far above. The exit. But standing at the base of the chimney, a unmoving green dot on his map, was a disciple he didn’t recognize. The dot had a designation next to it: Frozen Sword Faction. And it was labeled Feng Jian.

The assassin wasn’t hunting. He was waiting at the door.

Lin Tian skidded to a halt twenty feet away. Behind him, the tunnel echoed with the sounds of pursuit. Feng Jian stood in silence, his sword already drawn. He couldn’t see Lin Tian, but he knew he was there.

Lin Tian’s mind raced. He couldn’t fight his way past Feng Jian, not with a mob at his back.

Feng Jian took a single step forward. He lifted his sword aimed in Lin Tian’s general direction, and waited.

End of Chapter 68