Mark closed the door immediately as soon as he saw the sword and heard those words. He wasn't tempted in the least.

"Not happening," he muttered.

He walked to the next door. This chamber held three disciples who bowed deeply, calling out, "Patriarch Lan! Please guide us. We need your wisdom!" Their eager faces held expectation and reverence.

Mark shut the door again.

A third door opened to reveal piles of glittering treasures, gold, elerium ingots, sparkling artifacts, wealth enough to buy a planet. By this time, he already understood the gist of this test. He didn't even step inside. The door was closed right away.

The fourth showed beautiful women sitting on silk cushions, smiling invitingly. They beckoned him softly, the scent of incense wafting out.

Mark closed that door too, faster than the others.

Fifth door. His former patriarch, Lan Yujin, was sitting on a throne, tapping his finger with annoyance. "Kneel," the illusion commanded. "Pay your respects properly."

Mark scoffed and shut it with a slap.

He continued opening door after door. Some contained disciples shouting insults. Others contained treasure. Some showed catastrophes waiting to be solved, begging him to intervene. At least two more held swords, demanding release. All were nothing but distractions, each crafted to ignite desire, fear, pride, greed, or responsibility.

By the time he opened the final door, he had seen every trick the trial threw at him.

The twelfth room held something different.

It was a swirling, stable portal that hovered silently in the center. No voices called. No illusions tempted. It simply… existed.

Mark stared at it for a moment, but still closed the door in the end and then walked back to the first one. He reopened it. This time, he stayed a few seconds and then closed it. He went on another round of door opening and closing, but this time, he spent time staying outside and watching each scenario behind the door for atleast 10-20 seconds before shutting them. Only when he was absolutely certain that every other option was a trap did he finally step cleanly into the portal.

The world rippled.

The colorful dimension returned as usual.

And the black, white, and red tribunals stood before him once more.

The black tribunal's voice was deep and steady as he said. "You chose correctly. But answer us this, why?"

His form leaned slightly forward, questioning. "If you knew the portal was the answer from the moment you saw it… Why did you close it? Why examine everything else first?"

Mark crossed his arms and gave a small, confident smile. "Because a leader can't make decisions blindly." He tilted his head toward the floating tribunal. "A leader must choose only after knowing all possibilities."

The tribunals remained silent, listening.

He gestured at the empty air around them. "Once I saw everything, the answer became clear. Only the portal had no trick. Only the portal offered no distraction. Only the portal was the path forward."

He finished plainly, "A leader must understand all options before choosing the correct one. That's why."

The black tribunal's towering cloth-like frame rippled faintly, as though a silent wind passed through it.

"Bravo," he said, his deep voice resonating like a distant drum as he praised. "A wise leader does not leap toward the first option nor cling blindly to expectations. Patience is the first step of wisdom." His shadowed form leaned forward slightly again, and his tone shifted from praise to inquiry. "Before I ask the next riddle, I must confirm something. Do you know what a river is? What is an ocean?"

Mark nodded. "Of course I do."

Mark didn't need to ask him why this tribunal asked him such a basic question. After all, this world is filled with snow and ice. Lakes exist, yes, but they lie frozen for ages and only melt during the summer. That's when most of the citizens and clans collect the water to store for the rest of the year. Of course, sects and high-ranking clans have no problem. They have the means to create water.

So, anyway, the reason why the tribunal asked him about rivers and oceans is that there are no such things on this current planet. And the tribunal wasn't aware whether Mark got out of the planet to other regions in the dominion.

Mark understood that and didn't point it out. he simply waited for the question.

The black tribunal then lifted an invisible hand, and the entire painted dimension darkened around them in the next second.

A landscape formed behind him with towering mountains, flowing rivers, and an endless sea in the distance. His voice then filled the space. "A river begins at the mountains, nourished by their springs. Eventually, it reaches the ocean and surrenders all its waters." His faceless head tilted slightly. "So tell us, Lan Zhen… who has the greater right over the river? The mountain that gave it birth? Or the ocean that claims it at its end?"

Mark remained silent.

Inside his mind, Ark spoke immediately.

[Master, the answer is the ocean. The mountains do not create the river. The water originates from the sea, which goes through evaporation, condensation, and formation of clouds and then rainfall on the mountains, thus the cycle begins with the ocean and returns to it.]

Mark almost chuckled inwardly.

He ignored the AI completely as he knew that it was the right statement but not the right answer.

He raised his gaze to the tribunal and let out a soft exhale. "None of them," he said loudly.

The black tribunal's shadowed head turned slightly. "None? Explain."

Mark took a step forward. "The mountain may be where the river begins. The ocean may be where the river ends. But neither owns the river. They only mark its starting point and its final destination. They were the River's Birth and death."

The tribunals remained eerily still, listening.

Mark continued, "What matters… is everything between those two points. The river chooses its own path. It twists, turns, breaks, crashes, flows, or dries depending on what it encounters: Like stones, valleys, sunlight, storms, forests, and even human hands. It is shaped by its journey, not its beginning or end. Just like people."

The air quivered faintly.

Mark raised his hand and gestured toward the illusion of landscape hovering behind them. "And beyond that… water sitting still in a mountain is not a river. It's a lake, the same as an unborn child in a mother's womb. Water in an ocean is not a river either, because it becomes part of the ocean, just like how our spirits become a part of the spirit realm. And then the sun evaporates the ocean waters with its intense heat, just like how our spirits go through the afterlife, through the judgement, through hell or heaven. And then those waters turn into clouds, before falling onto mountains to become the river, just like how our spirits, after passing through the trials in the afterlife, return to the world."

"A river is only a river while it is moving… only between the mountain and the ocean. That moving span… that changing journey… that is life. That is what belongs to no one but itself."

He finished quietly, "So my answer is simple. Neither the mountain nor the ocean has any right over it. Only the river's journey matters."

For a long moment, none of the tribunals spoke. The painted world around them flickered, colors drifting like ink underwater.

Finally, the black tribunal's voice rumbled, softer this time. "A rare perspective indeed. Few challengers have ever answered thus."

Mark, however, smirked in his mind, thinking, "Haah… such stupid philosophical riddles were filled all over the internet, back in my past life..."

Meanwhile, the white tribunal seemed to nod with an almost wistful sigh. The red tribunal, usually harsh and sharp, remained silent, as though weighing Mark's words that equated a river to a mortal's life.

The black tribunal's towering form leaned slightly forward. "Good. Very good. It has been a long time since a challenger with such clarity of self stood here. Most stumble. Many lie. You, at the very least, know who you are… and who you are not." There was a quiet pause before he said. "Now, the third test. Brace yourself."

The world shifted.

For a moment, Mark found himself standing between two silhouettes, one bathed in gentle blue light, and the other flaring with bright gold.