Even hiding deep in the mountains and ancient forests, one still had the bright moon, stirring wind, murmuring springs, and that faint thread of connection to this vast, boundless world.
That exceedingly shallow connection could still give even cultivators a slight sense of having their feet on solid ground in such a state.
Yet enveloping people was only one of this formation's abilities.
It stripped away that thread of connection to the world, leaving only a small space—one person, a desk, chair, and examination paper. Beneath their feet was no longer the ground they knew, and there was no sunlight before their eyes. Only the pen and paper in their hands kept panic from rising in their hearts.
This was also a test meant to temper their Dao hearts.
Song Wen's gaze rested upon the three examination halls. No one knew which disciple his eyes would ultimately settle on.
The other elders were the same. Compared to this examination hall, they were more eager to see the disciples' practical abilities afterward.
Yet as time passed, some disciples within the space could no longer endure the loneliness. They handed in their papers before finishing, while others wore ashen faces, as though they had fallen into scenes born from their own imaginations.
The faces of several elders darkened like charcoal upon seeing this.
"What a disgrace! Elder Song has come today, and you've thrown away all of this old man's dignity." An elder beside them suppressed his fury, for several of the mentally fragile disciples inside had once been taught by him.
"Old Liu, calm down a little. Most of the disciples are still good," another elder said gently, trying to console him.
The next moment, however, he saw a disciple actually fall asleep on the spot. The gentle elder immediately flared