The shift across the threshold of the Thousand-Floor Pagoda was fully seamless. One second, Senior Student Wu was sprinting across the sun-drenched flat stone slab plaza surrounded by cheering crowds. The next second, the warm morning breeze was replaced by the damp, earthy aroma of crushed fern fronds, wet bark, and ancient, mossy loam.
Above them, the open sky vanished, replaced by an arched canopy of gnarled iron-oak branches and dense briar thickets that filtered surrounding spiritual light into dappled emerald beams. Soft, knee-high mist drifted over the damp forest floor, parting around moss-draped boulders, rotting logs, and winding game trails.
“Floor 001,” Wu declared, coming to a halt on a damp patch of peat moss. He swept his long canary-yellow silk robes back with a flourish. He held his five-foot golden steel sword at a ready, aggressive angle. Behind him, his four junior students emerged from the sapphire mist, chuckling with arrogant amusement.
“Is this it?” sneered Disciple Qian, twirling his light dress sword with casual disdain. “Just a dark clump of trees? The Sovereign spoke of terrifying trials. But this looks like the back garden of our clan’s summer estate. I bet the beasts in here are tame sheep placed here to entertain children.”
