The air in the training grounds was thick with tension.
Disciples gathered in tight clusters, their voices low, eyes narrowed, eager to witness what they thought would be a spectacle. Kai stood at the center of the sparring ring, still as stone, his gaze flat and unreadable. His robes fluttered slightly in the morning breeze, but his stance remained calm, grounded.
Across from him, three senior outer sect disciples wore matching grins. Their prior defeats at his hands still stung, their pride wounded deeper than they'd admit aloud.
"Thought you were untouchable, huh?" sneered the tallest of the three. He cracked his knuckles. "Let's see how long that pride lasts."
Kai said nothing.
The instructor overseeing the match raised a hand reluctantly. "This challenge is permitted. Three-on-one. Body tempering only. Weapons and Qi techniques are forbidden. Match ends on surrender or incapacitation. Begin."
The signal dropped.
They moved faster than expected—tighter formation, better timing. Kai weaved between two strikes, parried a third, and countered with a short elbow to the ribs. One opponent staggered.
But something was off.
A glint.
Too late.
The second disciple slipped a small weighted spike from his sleeve and struck Kai behind the knee. Pain shot through him as his leg buckled.
Gasps echoed from the crowd.
"He cheated!" someone whispered, but the voice was drowned by the renewed clash of fists.
Kai gritted his teeth and moved, relying on instinct and pain-hardened control. He struck one cleanly in the chin, knocking him back. But another came from the side, smashing a hidden reinforced bracer into Kai's ribs.
Something cracked.
He dropped to one knee.
Blood pooled at the corner of his mouth. Still, he pushed himself up, half-standing, eyes blazing now with restrained fury.
The trio circled him. The crowd said nothing. No instructor stepped in.
Kai raised his fists again.
But the blow came from behind—cheap, calculated. A strike to the temple.
The world tilted.
And then darkness.
---
When he woke, the ceiling above him was unfamiliar—smooth wood, painted with muted symbols of protection and healing.
He tried to sit up but a jolt of pain forced him back down.
"Stay still."
A cool cloth touched his forehead. He turned slightly.
Yue.
She sat beside him, her usual composure softened by the concern in her eyes. Her sleeves were rolled up, her hands stained faintly with the herbs she had ground to treat his wounds.
"They cheated," he rasped.
"I know."
Kai looked away.
Yue pressed a bowl to his lips. "Drink."
He obeyed. The bitterness of the tonic grounded him more than the warmth.
"They broke two ribs," she said quietly. "Bruised your kidney too. You'll heal."
"They'll pay for it."
She didn't answer right away.
Then, softly: "Everyone saw. Some looked away, but they saw. You don't have to fight them all at once. Not every battle is won with fists."
He looked at her again. Her face was close now, features framed by the lamplight. Calm. Beautiful. Strong.
"Why are you helping me?"
Yue hesitated. "Because someone should."
The silence between them stretched, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
Kai rested back against the pillow, the pain settling deep in his bones.
And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to rest