A voice from an unimaginably distant place sounded plain and calm, vast and boundless, yet it did not pass through the teleportation array to reach Howard Gu's ears.
The transmission was truly far beyond reach.
It could not even be measured in light-years.
At the heart of the Yarlowe Sector, the massive diagram of white light continued to spin for more than three minutes before gradually stopping. This was the secret teleportation array leading to the Human Supreme Hall, personally guarded by a peak Cosmos Union Tier Sealed Celestial Ancestor.
The enormous diagram was located at the edge of a ring of ninety-nine stars. As the white light faded, the transmission was complete.
Howard Gu, the white-robed youth, stood calmly at the very front of the massive diagram.
“Andrew Han has already been transmitted away.”
“Then... the Xumi Assessment should begin now.”
He murmured softly, his gaze flickering with a trace of nostalgia, as if recalling the nervousness and unease of his own first entry into the Hall years ago.
If one had to divide the Human Territory—
Countless empires, hundreds of Ancient Kingdoms, and finally—the three great Human Halls!
Stellar systems, star sectors, star regions, and ultimately the unified Human Territory: thanks to Howard Gu's recommendation, Andrew Han has leapt over the dragon gate, soaring to the ninth heaven. He has risen from empire to Human Hall, from the stellar system level directly to the territorial level.
Andrew Han is destined to stand higher and see farther than ever before!
“I hope being a Genius is not your limit.”
“Besides, even among honored Geniuses, there are still ranks and grades.” Howard Gu gazed at the secret teleportation array where the white light had faded, lost in thought, unsure what was on his mind.
At that moment, voices came from the three black holes at the center of the ninety-nine stars: “Your Highness Howard, as long as Andrew Han does not emerge within three days, he will have passed the Xumi Assessment. In my opinion, you need not wait here; if there is any news, I will notify you immediately.”
“Alright.”
Howard Gu nodded and drifted away.
The so-called Xumi Assessment is in fact one of the most important ways the Human Hall screens lifeforms.
The Human Hall is the core of the Star-Sky Humans. Should other lifeforms ever infiltrate it, the result would be a catastrophically destructive blow to the Human Race... The shallow purpose of the Xumi Assessment is to intercept any non-Human lifeforms attempting to enter the Hall.
Of course.
The Xumi Assessment is not merely about screening; its true purpose is evaluation!
Leaving aside others for now, just speaking of Geniuses—the higher one's score in the Xumi Assessment, the greater the chance of receiving attention and cultivation.
——
Distant, unimaginably distant, inconceivably far away.
This was one of the three great Human Halls, governing thirty-six Cosmic Ancient Kingdoms; the Cosmic Ancient Kingdom was one of them.
This is the Human Hall.
It is the place countless people yearn for, pursue all their lives, and dream of for eternity. Most people will never have the chance to set foot in the Hall within their lifetime.
The entire Hall resembled a colossal wall; the pitch-black barrier had nine entrances arranged in sequence. From the outside, one could not see the interior—only a sense of vast, boundless awe.
At one of the Hall's entrances, a faint light flickered.
“Xumi Assessment initiated.”
“Starlight-tier Human Andrew Han has officially entered the Xumi World. Verifying... Verification complete. Starlight-tier Andrew Han's Human identity: no anomalies. No injuries detected. No special qualifications found. Life gene: Starlight-tier, level five. Soul-Will: Starlight-tier, level four.”
“Initial check passed.”
“Second sequence passed.”
“Third sequence passed.”
“Fourth review failed. Repeat: Fourth review failed. Please check the cause immediately.”
The mechanical voice echoed endlessly.
The grand entrance, towering a million meters high, was utterly deserted. After all, few ever teleport to the Human Hall; the cost is immense, and permission from the Hall is required. The entire process is quite complicated.
“Fourth review failed.”
“Please check the cause immediately.”
The endless repetition, mechanical and unfeeling, seemed to gradually awaken a mysterious presence, whose gaze reached across countless layers of space.
The mechanical reminders, drifting like a breeze, actually roused an ancient Human existence from slumber—like a blade of grass swaying on blue Earth, causing stars to erupt with light and heat, shaking the solar system to its core.
“The fourth sequence is just a routine check.”
“So many ages have passed; it's truly rare for the fourth sequence to fail... Well then, let me see what's going on.”
When he opened his eyes, the world was reborn!
When he awoke, chaos itself was parted!
No matter how one tries, exhausting all thought, this is an existence ordinary people can never imagine. With just a glance from his silver eyes, true stellar explosions are unleashed.
To be precise—
The space at the Hall's entrance was hidden in countless layers, innumerable twisted dimensions folded together like sheets of paper. This ancient being lay at the deepest point of these layers, sleeping in comfort, occasionally awakening.
He must be so, and could not be otherwise.
His soul remained Human, but his body had become countless stars—like an entire stellar system spanning the depths of layered space.
He was the Sealed Celestial Ancestor!
One of the highest achievers in history on the Sealed Celestial Path among Humans!
“Normally, all entrances to the three Halls are managed by my avatars. But to prevent star-spirits from evolving autonomously, these avatars are typically mindless and cannot determine the cause of a failed fourth review.” His awe-inspiring silver eyes slowly opened, piercing through layer upon layer of space to focus on Starlight-tier Human Andrew Han.
At that moment, Andrew Han's body floated at the entrance.
He had no consciousness, no thought, for all space and time were utterly distorted.
Time was nearly frozen, space on the verge of collapse. The silver eyes paused in rare surprise, revealing a look of genuine interest.
“Power of destiny.”
He pondered for a moment, then stood up.
As he rose, the entire stellar system shifted upright... When he fully awakened, all the stars within his internal system, previously extinguished, began to light up one by one, reigniting with power and heat... When he left the deepest layer of space, the stellar system returned to silence, leaving only this celestial avatar manifesting before Andrew Han.
This awe-inspiring being had long, flowing hair.
He had silver eyes, silver hair, and a tall, slender frame, resembling a mysterious immortal shrouded in mist.
“This child is called Andrew Han.” He gently lifted his chin, gazing at Andrew Han, his eyes able to probe Andrew’s very essence: “This child’s life is saturated with the Power of Destiny—or perhaps it’s more accurate to call it Traces of Destiny.”
(Irrelevant system message skipped.)
The Power of Destiny touches upon cosmic mysteries beyond the ultimate arcana.
Even the peak existences among Humans dare not lightly meddle with it.
“Interesting.”
His gaze carried a trace of puzzlement: “Of the three thousand laws of the starry sky, time and destiny are but paradoxes. Aside from the Shenro Clan and the Nether Clan, who dares to touch or even comprehend them?”
It must be the interception of the Power of Destiny.
Yet, with so many chaotic and tangled Traces of Destiny, it is astonishing that Andrew Han survived.
“Enough.” He mused, “Human identity confirmed—let’s see what this child thinks about being Human... The Xumi environment isn’t real enough. Very well, you’ll take the assessment inside my body.”
With those words spoken—
He smiled, half turned, and led Andrew Han into the deepest layer of space.
“Hmm, let me pick a planet for your assessment.”
“A planet isn’t quite right. As it happens, I once created a starry sky continent—for experiments with the Shenro Clan, Nether Clan, Light Clan, and Starry Sky Fiends... This land will do. Child, don’t disappoint me.”
......
Mingor Continent, Tutz Principality, a small town.
Cool, damp air filled the space, with gentle, pure rain falling, carrying the earthy fragrance of soil. Occasionally, birds chirped crisply, and strange gurgling sounds could be heard.
“Where is this?”
Andrew Han’s consciousness returned and he opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was a little girl with a distinctive ponytail, wearing a vest. Her tender skin was smeared with black mud, but a hint of snowy white showed through.
“Ah!”
The little girl jumped in fright.
“Are you awake?”
She stepped back, her big eyes filled with curiosity.
Nearby, two or three middle-aged people rushed over, all staring at Andrew Han.
Andrew Han frowned and sat up. He was lying on a pink lawn, with fine rain drizzling from the sky. The air temperature was about twenty-nine degrees Celsius, and the gravity was nearly ten times that of Earth.
“This isn’t the Human Hall.”
“Xumi Assessment? Xumi World?” Andrew Han mused, looking up at the three wary middle-aged people and the curious little girl, clicking his tongue in wonder. “No wonder it’s the Xumi Assessment—the environment is so lifelike, and even the illusory beings are so realistic.”
Howard Gu had mentioned the Xumi Assessment in passing.
Although Howard Gu hadn’t been specific, Andrew Han had mostly figured it out.
The little girl asked, “What does ‘human-like’ mean?”
Andrew Han smiled, “Human-like means you can speak universal language, and you have emotional fluctuations, like fear, joy, or sadness.”
Hearing this, the three middle-aged people exchanged glances.
“He must be crazy.”
“The capital of the Principality is holding the Hurricane Church’s assessment right now. He probably failed, got discouraged, and then lost his mind.”