“You are truly great.”

A beam of light pierced the sky, wrapping around the falling crate.

[Trajectory curve… telekinetic deconstruction… compensate, replace…]

Yang Zicang’s gaze sharpened. At that moment, his thoughts drifted slightly, as if struck by a sudden notion, but the intensely flickering lines swiftly severed all reflections.

His focus, carried away by the vast computational load, had no room to wander.

The delicate wavebands surfacing from this immense mass of data felt as viscous as seawater yet as sparse as light—any distraction that led to neglecting their beauty would be nothing short of sacrilege.

Those who had been lying on the force field wall outside hadn’t yet reacted when the six roaring wooden crates had already landed steadily on the gradually illuminating floor tiles. Within only four or five seconds, new wooden crates began to fall again.

— “Wow, so amazing!”

— “It turns out that even watching from outside, without actually going in, is this fun.”

[The Barking Dog Gate tells me that my investor is anticipating my performance.]

Boom, boom, boom!

The eighteenth wooden crate landed steadily on the floor tiles. The figure standing in the middle, his face lifted with enthusiastic warmth, had already completed nearly one-fifth of the test without even touching the crates.

And that all happened within just half a minute!

Wei Zhenguo’s mouth opened wide and hadn’t yet closed when the next batch of wooden crates came raining down like falling meteors.

Crash, crash, crash!

This time, they carried a fierce blast of wind, and the expanding airwaves slightly pushed the pairs of falling crates apart in two directions.

“The difficulty’s been increased.”

Although the falling crates were just a bit more erratic than before from the blast of wind, Yang Zicang knew with a single touch that the telekinetic force needed to synchronize and rewrite the model’s lines had more than doubled. Apparently, that even a slight change to the trajectory demanded an enormous amount of energy.

“For someone else, maybe that would require a bit more effort. But…”

For his model, it was still within easy reach. There was still a long way to go before reaching the limit of a thousand-rank quadrilateral.

No, not for his model.

A tingling sensation rose within Yang Zicang; he recalled the words that echoed in his mind when he first obtained the model—”We are I.”

The image of Xingmiao’s bones, scattered as rocks across the earth, flashed through his mind.

Rocks, life.

The budding conjecture in Yang Zicang’s mind quickly sprouted a vigorous vitality, as if rooting itself deep within his memory.

Earth… Saint… Items… Decay… Halo!

“Could it be…”

Whoosh——

Three wooden chests, shot forth with force, cried out in a whirl of wind, creating explosive blasts.

They spiraled and dove simultaneously, their rotating gusts causing their positions to constantly shift, leaving those below uncertain of where they would land. On the ground, three square tiles lit up in succession, one after another.

In just a glance, they descended upon the head of the figure standing tall, gazing skyward in the vast plaza.

“Could it be that you… are also an existence like them!”

A flash of light shot upward.

Three wooden chests in midair moved with eerie grace: one veered diagonally with a surge, one traced a parabola falling behind, and one dropped directly underfoot—pushed by the young man two meters away to the second glowing tile.

At that moment, the last chest among these six groups slowly descended; the fourth group had been completed with ease.

A gentle breeze blew, and Yang Zicang looked down at the silver ring on his chest.

{So fast indeed.}

The voice echoed within the ring in his heart.

The man before the dilapidated ancient temple still kept his hand on the sword hilt, his eyes half-closed as he spoke:

{Completing four sets of challenges in just one minute. It seems those who entered this time have decent talent. With difficulty like this, it’s far from enough training intensity for you.}

—“Wow, he said new lines.”

The humanoid psychic bodies outside the force field exclaimed in surprise.

Yang Zicang glanced at the sky; no new wooden crates were falling. He steadied his mind and looked ahead at the Wind Blade Warrior image, which continued to speak.

{Are you alone? Hmm, for the mark I left to produce this phrase, it seems you truly are alone. Good, friendship from afar brings joy. My friend, do you know what kind of spiritual blessing I can bestow upon you?}

The man raised his hand.

A flame glow, akin to a red-hot iron wire, warped and rose, forming a simple, ever-rotating Celtic knot symbol.

As Yang Zicang’s gaze fell upon it, the information it contained manifested directly in his mind.

[Primary Mental Power Operation Pattern: Fierce Gale of Flames]

[Fierce Gale of Flames: Stabilizes the third psychic ring for psykers below the third ring, and enhances high-speed energy perception by one to three levels.]

{I have grasped the essence of the scorching wind from battling flames. This “Mental Power Operation Pattern” can help you, my friend, improve your perception and neutralization of them.}

As soon as he finished speaking, the dark orange Celtic knot in his hand rapidly faded, and a cyan-green symbol appeared in his palm in an instant, replacing the previous pattern.

“Two… there are actually two of them?” Yang Zicang thought in surprise.

As if responding to his thoughts, the slow voice of the mental imprint left by this Wind Spirit Warrior began to resonate in his mind.

{These two imprints suit different people. Once you obtain the so-called SUPER rating, you may choose one to imprint into your sea of consciousness, aiding you in building the foundational knowledge to bear a Three-Circle Bloodline!}

Holding this mark in his hand, he took two steps to the left amidst the increasingly fierce wind.

{In the vast forest, I realized another form of life’s essence—mind and nature aligning perfectly—forging this imprint. It can help you enhance the efficiency of mental recovery.}

As the voice faded, a stream of information that could directly resonate in the mind emerged on the imprint.

[Primary Mental Power Circulation Mark: Wood Song’s Soothing]

[Wood Song’s Soothing: Stabilize the mental foundation for Tri-Circle and below, anchoring thoughts like a deep forest unwavering, and enhance the restorative power of the mind.]

So the reward for this training was a choice between the two.

Wei Zhenguo’s faint shout came from behind the force field: “Xiao Zang, congratulations on unlocking the preview of the Perfect Clear assessment early. It means your current score is already very close to the GOOD level!”

Yang Zicang turned his head to look at everyone cheering behind the force field and nodded.

The Wind Spirit Warrior said:

{Come now, let me see how far you can go, young friend. I’m about to turn up the difficulty.}

Yang Zicang’s eyes slightly narrowed as he felt a sudden surge of immense force pushing against his back, causing his body to sway. The gale lifted his shoulder-length black hair, and the weathered wooden crates scattered across the plaza began to violently sway and creak in the intensifying scorching wind, as if they could be blown apart and swept into the air at any moment.

Suddenly, a deep, muffled groan echoed from the distant mountain range—boom!

Flames appeared on the horizon. As the wind swept through, the forest caught fire, clouds were scorched, and countless ashes rolled across the sky and earth like snowy waves.

So beautiful…

—”Wow, a hidden scene has appeared!”

Outside the energy field, some eyes full of longing gazed at the blazing flames rising from the other end of the land.

—”So, there’s a lot more content in this Psi-kat Cassette.”

—”It’s really a hidden level. Could it be… that this newcomer can trigger a reward above SUPER level!”

Wind and fire swept over his body. Yang Zicang felt his perception of the air rapidly diminish. The external projection of his mental power was already highly sensitive to the elements of heaven and earth, and now this raging gale made the sensation extremely uncomfortable.

The Wind Warrior, trailing a mark, looked up and turned his gaze over.

{Friend, have you clearly seen this description? It’s about to begin.}

As the Wind Warrior’s words fell, Yang Zicang’s eyes instinctively dropped to the mark on his hand. Within the interlocking circular pattern formed by energy lines reminiscent of greenwood, a deep green hue flowed slowly.

At this moment, rolling flames and dust swept through, surging past the two like a drawn-out curtain flowing across the scene horizontally.

Precisely at that instant, the cyan-like energy reached the exact center of the symbol, and the brief description of the pattern suddenly rippled with an uncanny fluctuation.

Yang Zicang felt a faint trance—an incredibly fleeting moment, possibly less than 0.001 seconds.

Yet, with his externally released mental power, he was acutely sensitive enough to capture it, leaving an unforgettable impression.

Yang Zicang stood frozen in place.

In that instant, he glimpsed a world.

In the square before a ruined temple, hundreds of refugees had gathered. They were tattered and ragged, some bearing physical deformities, yet all of them shared a single posture—gazing up at the sky.

What were they hoping for? Yang Zicang wondered.

He followed their gaze toward the horizon. The first wave of smoke had already been hurled away by the wind, and the second wave was approaching, hotter than before. Then he saw it—just like the fleeting glimpse of those refugees he had witnessed moments ago—he saw it clearly.

Wooden crates of food were plummeting from the high sky.

“Did this really happen?” Yang Zicang murmured to himself.

{Silence, speak no more! Training begins now!}

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Five massive crates rapidly crashed down from the heavens.

[Barking Dog Gate informs me that I have triggered a hidden training level.]

[The Barking Dog Gate informs me that Group Leader Jiaoma is watching her team member—myself.]

In Yang Zicang’s vision, silver trajectories touched each descending box. As he dodged the scything flames, he kicked apart the broken crates on the ground, revealing partially concealed golden floor tiles beneath.

Wham! Wham!

Two boxes landed perfectly, but behind the remaining three, six more wooden crates materialized in quick succession. No longer did one wave end before the next began—now they came wave after relentless wave!

[Officer Montai is watching me.]

[My colleagues are observing my performance.]

[The leader of Action Department First Cleaning Team is watching me.]

More and more people at the Lost Illusion Company took note that someone was tackling a hidden training level. Yang Zicang had no time to register these voices.

[These people—I, the Great Quadrilateral—know none of them.]

—”Whoa, such intense flames—he must be in agony.”

The crates fell from the sky with mounting frequency. After the seventieth, the wooden boxes suddenly grew much larger, striking like boulders with heavy, howling descents.

{A martial artist without a sword will find this challenge nearly impossible.}

The Wind Spirit Warrior’s figure flickered, and with a swift motion, she planted a sword into the center of the plaza.

Was this a test of swordsmanship?

After a moment’s hesitation, Yang Zicang hobbled quickly toward it, awkward and limping.

Yet in his mind, he was still dwelling on that fleeting image he had glimpsed.

Was it that coincidental? At the moment that fleeting image flashed, the sky and earth were shrouded in fiery clouds, as if blocking the eyes of the outside world. A sudden inspiration struck Yang Zicang.