Chapter 254: Test Concluded
“For the final test, there’s nothing I can tell you in advance.”
After escorting Xu Zhi to the door, the guide left her with only that sentence.
Nothing to disclose?
Xu Zhi grew even more curious.
Without hesitation, she maneuvered her wheelchair straight into the room.
When the door shut behind her, she was still wondering what exactly this test was meant to examine.
The room was completely empty—no furniture, no objects at all. Only the fluorescent light tube overhead had any real presence.
Then the lights gradually dimmed. Faint patterns began to emerge along the surrounding walls, the floor, even the ceiling. The lines seemed to carry no obvious attribute; they were simply inscribed there. But after a single glance, Xu Zhi’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.
This was the most exquisite and complex circuit she had ever seen in the real world.
“What kind of circuit is this?”
She pondered inwardly. But soon, as the circuit lit up with a glow that did not belong to any known attribute, she immediately sensed something unusual.
The center of her palm—the place where Midnight had once left its mark—began to warm faintly, as if responding to a call.
Unlike the intense sensation she had felt when interacting with her kin before, this time it was subtler… more concealed.
It felt as though something in the room was acting as a medium, connecting to Midnight—and through that connection, she too was being perceived.
As the circuit’s light grew brighter, the warmth in her palm intensified. Yet Xu Zhi sensed no danger.
Instead, she felt a pull—something like an invitation. It seemed to come from Midnight, yet not entirely the same.
She began to guess what this test was measuring.
So she relaxed deliberately, gazing at the circuit etched along the walls. She even took the initiative to follow that tugging sensation, letting her thoughts drift along the thread of connection.
In a haze, she thought she saw moths again—but no longer the vivid gray ones of before. These were golden, formed from clusters of pale golden light.
The glowing motes circled around her. Her vision blurred. Guided by the pull, she seemed to travel to a mysterious, unknown place.
No.
Not unknown.
Even in her half-dreaming state, Xu Zhi felt a flicker of recognition. She had been here before—had seen it—just never so completely.
Yes.
She knew this place.
It was Mansus—the Sea of Dreams—the dwelling of the Sun, the far shore of the Great Dream.
Unlike the fragmented forest she had once glimpsed in the Federation, this was whole, vast, and boundless.
Not a broken path with no visible future, but the true gateway every aspirant to divinity must pass through.
—Snap.
It was as if someone had flicked their fingers beside her ear. Xu Zhi jolted awake. The lights in the room had returned to full brightness, and the circuits along the walls had dimmed without her noticing when.
She had no idea how much time had passed.
But to her astonishment, the Lamp-attribute circuit within her body had expanded noticeably.
It was as if… she had swallowed some invisible elixir.
Even her body felt lighter, clearer—like the refreshing clarity she used to experience after leveling up in her supernatural rank.
[Congratulations, student Xu Zhi. Test concluded. Results will now be announced:]
A clear announcement sounded once more.
[Based on your performance:
Your affinity with the Mansus is rated: Excellent.
Current academy ranking for this category: No.1.]
[Congratulations. As you are ranked first in the Great Dream test, you will receive an additional 100 academic credits per month.]
As expected. That was what the test had measured.
But why test this?
Wasn’t this a place every supernatural would enter when advancing?
What was the purpose of measuring affinity?
Xu Zhi pondered. Could it be that in the real world, entering the Great Dream was not as simple for others as it had been for her?
As it turned out, her guess was unexpectedly close to the truth.
“One of the greatest frustrations for any supernatural is finding the entrance to the Great Dream at the right moment before promotion.”
At the top floor of the academy, the principal gazed at Xu Zhi’s figure and spoke softly—perhaps to himself, perhaps in awe.
“In this stage, most students struggle even to sense the pull of the Mansus. Only a small minority can feel it at all, and even then only faint mental disorientation.”
“Those who can successfully enter the Great Dream through a medium are exceedingly rare!”
“She’s only at Level Four—Comprehension. How long did she take? Not even ten minutes!”
Someone added, “The Great Dream favors her. It willingly accepts her. Incredible—she encountered almost no resistance!”
“Could it be… that Radiance also blesses her?!”
Someone inhaled sharply at the speculation.
“What nonsense are you talking about? She’s Lamp-attribute. If Radiance doesn’t favor her, should it favor you?”
“Any true genius must possess fortune to match their talent. Those arrogant brats should come see what real destiny looks like!”
“It’s unbelievable. She’ll likely be able to enter the Great Dream smoothly at every future promotion—without excessive rituals or materials as assistance!”
The speaker’s tone brimmed with envy. Nearly all supernaturals required the aid of invisible arts to access the Great Dream during advancement, often at enormous financial cost.
Xu Zhi, by contrast, could save not only resources—but something even more precious: timing.
Most supernaturals had to wait for inspiration to accumulate before faintly sensing the pull of the Mansus. Even then, they required ritual assistance to detach from the mundane world and cross over.
Every step was complicated—and crucial.
The higher one’s affinity with the Great Dream, the easier promotion became. This, more than anything, determined a supernatural’s upper limit. No matter how talented one was, if the Great Dream rejected them—if they could not enter the Mansus—everything else was meaningless.
Fortunately, those with great talent rarely had poor affinity.
“All tests are finished. Three first-place rankings… is the heavens joking?”
“Even a joke wouldn’t go that far.”
“Let’s go. We’ve watched long enough. Time to meet this extraordinary new student.”
One person rose, and the others followed.
For an ordinary freshman, meeting them would be nearly impossible. But Xu Zhi was different. None of them felt it beneath their dignity to go see her. On the contrary—they were all looking forward to meeting this prodigy.
Some even secretly hoped to leave a good impression on her.
“The results are posted. The rankings have refreshed. The academy forums must be in chaos by now.”
“Chaos won’t matter. What matters is whether we can restore her health before the next Lost Land selection. Missing it would be such a waste.”
See how quickly perspectives changed?
Just days ago, Xu Zhi’s request for a Lost Land slot had been dismissed as wishful thinking. But in a single day, after her talent had been laid bare, the concern had shifted entirely.
No one called her delusional anymore.
Now they only worried whether her body would prevent her from seizing the opportunity.
