the back ranges of the Dawning Blades Sect were a forgotten place. Carved between craggy hills and thick groves of shadowpine, the area was mostly used for solo meditation or quiet punishment drills. But tonight, it was anything but quiet.
A circle of outer disciples had gathered under the dim haze of moonlight, their figures lit by lanterns staked into the earth. The ground was worn from years of use, the stone tiles beneath their feet cracked and mossy.
Kai stood at the edge, watching.
Most of the group ignored him. A few scoffed when they noticed him arrive alone. He caught snippets of whispering—familiar words by now.
"He showed up? Thought he'd keep hiding."
"Watch him fold after the first round."
"Probably hoping to impress Lin Yue."
Kai let the words pass. They didn't matter.
Lin Yue stood near the opposite end of the circle, arms folded, speaking quietly with another senior disciple. She hadn't looked at Kai yet. Or maybe she had and just didn't show it.
An older disciple stepped forward, someone Kai vaguely recognized as one of the tournament regulars in the outer sect. His hair was tied back, and his arms were thick with training scars.
"Alright," he said, voice cutting the murmurs. "Tonight's rules are simple. No weapons. No Qi techniques. Body tempering strength only. You get knocked out, you're out. You give up, you're out. Injuries are your own responsibility."
He scanned the faces.
"This is for pride. And maybe for recognition. Don't disgrace either."
Disciples began stepping forward in pairs. Each bout lasted only a few moments. A few strikes. A sweep. A clash of muscle and precision.
Kai watched closely. Not the winners. The patterns. The rhythm.
When his name was called, a ripple passed through the crowd.
"Finally."
"He'll fold. Watch."
He stepped into the ring.
His opponent was broad-shouldered and smug—the same boy who had whispered taunts during drills.
Perfect.
The match began with a shout.
Kai dodged the first blow with a subtle shift, letting it brush past his ribs. The boy charged again, throwing a kick.
Kai ducked.
Then moved.
One step forward. A turn. A hand at the shoulder. He redirected the momentum, twisted the other boy's body with practiced control, and dropped him to the ground in a single, fluid movement.
Silence.
The match had lasted three seconds.
Kai stepped back without expression.
The boy groaned on the ground.
Yue's gaze finally met his from across the ring.
He didn't look away.
---
More matches followed. Kai fought twice more.
Both opponents lasted longer. But not by much.
He didn't dominate. He didn't grandstand.
He dismantled.
Every strike had a purpose. Every dodge was effortless. He never looked like he was trying. And that, more than anything, unsettled them.
Whispers changed.
"Is he holding back?"
"No one moves like that without technique."
"He hasn't even broken a sweat."
The final round was called.
To no one's surprise, it was Kai versus another top body tempering disciple—someone with years in the outer sect, known for his aggression and endurance.
The fight began with a roar.
Fists flew. Kicks cracked against stone.
Kai took two hits on purpose.
Then he stepped forward, slipped under a guard, and drove his elbow into the side of the disciple's ribs. The sound it made wasn't loud.
But the boy dropped.
Hard.
Kai stood still as the referee disciple checked the condition.
He was fine.
Just winded.
Just broken.
Yue didn't applaud. She simply nodded once.
And then turned to leave.
Kai stood there, surrounded by silence.
The whispers would start again tomorrow.
But they would sound different.
Sharper.
Harsher.
Not respect. Not awe. But suspicion.
Jealousy.
A few disciples turned away too quickly. Others lingered just long enough to glare. Some spoke quietly in corners, their tones hushed but bitter.
He'd humiliated too many. Exposed too much. Too fast.
They wouldn't forget.
Some wouldn't forgive.
Kai walked from the ring alone, the echo of the crowd silent behind him.
And the cold inside his chest grew just a little deeper.
---