This Junior Sister is a bit Introverted

Other POV:

The Mirror Viewing Platform was abuzz with activity.

Over a hundred elders from various sects gathered, each intently watching the mirrors displaying scenes from the ongoing third trial. The platform, a grand circular room lined with large, hovering mirrors, reflected different scenes of the trial, allowing the elders to assess the abilities and potential of the participants present.

The atmosphere was one of anticipation and evaluation, as the elders watched carefully, their voices a low murmur of commentary and analysis.

The participants, unaware of the trial’s true purpose, were pushing their limits, each action observed and scrutinized by the powerful figures who would ultimately decide their futures.

"Look at the lad from the Verin clan, his talisman skills are quite impressive, especially for one so young. The way he activated that defensive talisman against the spiritual beast—swift and precise. He has a sharp mind for such things." 

An elder from the Verdant Blade Sect remarked, his eyes fixed on the mirror displaying a young boy deftly handling talismans. If Rinne were here, she would have recognized this elder. His sect was the origin of the Verdant Meridian Pill, a recipe she was currently trying to reproduce.

Another elder from the Crimson Sun Sect agreed, his gaze shifting to a different mirror.

"Indeed, but take a look at the girl from the Leirin clan—she's manipulating fire with exceptional control. Her technique is refined beyond her years. If she continues at this pace, she could be a top contender for an inner disciple position."

"And what about the boy with the hammer? The one from the Tyren clan. His brute strength is one thing, but the way he's shaping that spiritual ore—it's almost like an art form. He has the potential to be a formidable blacksmith."

The elder from the Verdant Blade Sect nodded, but his attention was drawn to the boy who carried a hammer. 

Another elder, this one from the Emberglow Sect, pointed to yet another mirror. 

"Don't overlook the girl from the Shorn clan. Her agility and speed are remarkable, especially in that last bout against multiple opponents. She outmaneuvered them effortlessly, and her blade work is precise. If trained properly, she could become a deadly swordsman."

The elders continued to observe, each one making mental notes on the participants who caught their eye. The discussions were punctuated with nods of approval and occasional frowns of disappointment, as the elders weighed the strengths and weaknesses of each participant.

A gray-haired elder from the Earthshaker Sect noted. 

"There's also that boy from the Halkon clan, he’s not as flashy as the others, but his understanding of earth-based techniques is solid. He just used a terrain manipulation skill to trap a spiritual beast—simple, but effective. A reliable talent, if you ask me."

Elder Soryn from the Azure Sky Sect also sat among the gathering, though he remained silent.

His thoughts were elsewhere, specifically on Roran, whom he had recruited as soon as the second trial concluded. It was rare to find someone with a 90% purity single spiritual root of the fire attribute, and he was relieved that he had acted quickly. He watched the mirrors but didn’t comment on the participants, content with his recent acquisition.

'It’s a good thing I acted swiftly. If I had delayed even a moment, this boy might have entered the third trial, and who knows which sect would have claimed him? There’s no telling how many others would have fought over him once they saw his potential.'

While Elder Soryn was absorbed in his thoughts, Roran's eyes remained glued to the mirrors, taking in the participants' actions. This was exactly as his memories had shown him: being recruited by Elder Soryn. As he scanned the faces in the mirrors, he recognized a few participants—some were rivals, others potential allies from his previous life.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind: Could the Calamity Witch be among them?

'The Calamity Witch... could she be here?'

Roran wondered, feeling a chill run down his spine. His grip tightened as he scanned the mirrors for any sign of her. The mere thought of her sent a wave of fear and anger through him. But then, as quickly as the thought came, he pushed it aside.

'No, that’s impossible. The witch was an evil cultivator, feared and loathed by all. There’s no way she would appear in a trial meant for future sect members. Besides, this is not the place for someone like her.'

Yet, despite his attempts to dismiss the idea, Roran couldn't shake the lingering unease. The Calamity Witch was a figure of terror in his memories—a dark presence that had brought ruin and despair to countless lives. Roran knew that if she ever resurfaced, she would be a threat to everything and everyone he held dear.

Roran resolved, his eyes hardening with determination.

'I must become strong, stronger than anyone. If she ever returns, I’ll be ready. I’ll protect everyone I care about from her... from any threat. I won’t let the past repeat itself.'

His thoughts were a whirlwind of resolve and fear, but one thing was clear: Roran would do whatever it took to ensure that the horrors of the past would never touch his future.

As he watched the participants in the mirrors, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. His journey had only just begun, and he knew that the path ahead would be fraught with challenges. But no matter what, he would forge ahead, becoming the protector his memories urged him to be.

The elders continued to watch, their discussions revealing the unspoken goal of the trial.

Unbeknownst to the participants, this was their chance to prove themselves, to display their skills and abilities in hopes of catching the eye of a sect elder. Those who excelled might be recruited as an inner disciple, where they would receive superior resources and training. And those who perform exceptionally, might be recruited as a personal disciple, trained directly under the guidance of a powerful elder. Either way, they managed to secure their place in a powerful sect. 

But for those who failed to catch the eye of any elder, the future was less certain. They would be relegated to the ranks of the outer disciples, a place of limited opportunities and minimal resources. It was a path fraught with challenges, where only the most determined could hope to rise above their peers.

As the elders discussed the merits of each participant, the focus of Elder Maelis from the Frostfire Sect shifted to one particular scene that had caught his interest. His attention had been drawn by his personal disciple, Faylen, who seemed particularly absorbed in the actions of one participant.

Faylen murmured, surprise evident in his voice as he watched the mirror intently.

"That beggar boy... he's still in the trial," 

Elder Maelis, who stood beside him, caught wind of Faylen's murmured words. Curiosity piqued, he shifted his attention to the mirror that had captured his disciple's focus.

"Oh? This is the one you've been watching?" 

Faylen nodded, still somewhat in surprise.

"Yes, master. I thought for sure he’d fail. Yet here he is, still in the trial and making his way through it."

Elder Maelis' interest piqued as he observed the participant more closely. The beggar—or rather, the boy Faylen believed to be a beggar—was indeed moving with a surprising level of caution and skill.

"He may not have the refined tools or techniques of others, but he makes do with what he has. That shows resourcefulness, something we value highly in the Frostfire Sect."

Elder Maelis mused, he observed the figure more closely.

The way he blended into his surroundings, using the beast-repelling powder to keep spiritual beasts at bay, collecting carcasses left over by other participants, and how he meticulously stored the collected herbs in makeshift bamboo bottles and wooden boxes, was impressive.

Faylen nodded slowly, still watching intently.

"But what kind of stuff is he gathering? Some of them don't seem to be particularly valuable."

He still hadn't studied Alchemy in depth, so of course he didn't know the uses of the materials collected by the beggar.

Elder Maelis shrugged.

"The specifics of the plants don't matter as much as his knowledge and application of them. He knows what he’s doing, even if the materials are common. That shows a certain level of understanding." 

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the trial grounds, the boy—who, unbeknownst to them, was Rinne—approached a waterfall.

The powerful rush of water concealed a hidden cave behind it, a secret haven where the boy could seek refuge from prying eyes. The mirrors, however, could not penetrate the veil of the cascading water, leaving them oblivious to the boy's next move.

Faylen muttered, disappointment evident in his tone.

"A shame, I wanted to see what he does next."

Hearing his disciple's disappointed murmurs, Elder Maelis advised.

"Patience, there are plenty of other participants to observe. But keep an eye on him. There’s potential there, even if it's hidden beneath a rough exterior." 

With the mirror no longer showing Rinne's actions, both of them gradually shifted their attention to other participants, each searching for that one spark of talent that could elevate their sect’s future.