## Chapter 28: Echoes of a Lost Name
The arena city, called Celestial Crossing, sprawled beneath banners of every hue, its layered towers and bridges swirling with energy. Sect banners snapped in the wind; disciples from all corners of the continent flowed through streets that seemed carved from the bones of ancient gods. The sky above shimmered with the wings of spirit beasts and the drifting smoke of prayer incense.
Kai Jin walked the city at dawn, his robes plain, his presence slipping through the crowd like a shadow that sunlight could not erase. No one recognized him—not truly—and he preferred it that way. Sword dancers warmed up in silent courtyards, alchemists haggled over rare herbs, vendors sold spiced buns and crystal wine. Beneath it all, tension built: everyone waited for the start of the Gods' Tournament.
He found his way to a memory garden beyond the central square—a quiet place shielded by willow trees and stone benches, with a koi pond at its heart. Here, even the city's noise faded to the hush of bamboo leaves and soft splashes of fish. Kai sat, letting the silence settle in.
Memories pressed in, unbidden. He remembered another world: the feeling of rain on glass, the hum of a subway, the loneliness of moving between places but never belonging to any. He remembered dying—the flash of pain, the spinning void, and the cold realization that no one would remember his name.
Now, in this world, he had a new name. But he wondered if he had truly changed, or if he was still that lost boy wandering through borrowed time.
*World Eye:* "Self-pity doesn't suit you, boy. Not with all these eyes waiting to see you bleed."
Kai's lips twitched. "They won't see much."
*World Eye:* "You hide from them. But you can't hide from yourself."
A flicker of motion caught his eye—a shadow passing between the garden gates. A man in deep blue robes watched from the path, face half-hidden by a broad-brimmed hat, his presence radiating calm power.
Kai met his gaze. For a moment, neither spoke. Something ancient and familiar passed between them. The man turned away, melting into the crowd. Kai's heart pounded. The past was never far behind.
---
When he returned to the Dawning Blades' temporary courtyard, the tension had shifted. Preparations for the opening ceremony were nearly complete. Disciples checked their weapons, elders whispered last-minute instructions, and spies from rival sects watched from every shadow.
Yue found him at the edge of the training yard, her expression open but shadowed by worry. "You wandered off," she chided, voice gentle.
"I needed air," he replied.
She smiled, but her eyes searched his. "Or were you running from something?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he reached for her hand—brief, almost accidental, but real. Yue squeezed his fingers in return, the contact grounding them both.
A bell rang, calling Dawning Blades to the first public duels—preliminary matches meant to showcase talent and establish rank.
Kai's name appeared on the dueling slate. He glanced at Yue. She nodded. "Show them who you are."
---
**The First Duel**
The arena was a bowl of noise and light—thousands of disciples, elders, and guests in the stands, the air humming with Qi and anticipation. A stone platform, inscribed with runes, rose at the center. Names flashed in fire above it, and as Kai's appeared, the crowd grew restless.
His opponent: Han Wu, late Foundation Stage, Crimson Lake Sect—tall, broad, confident.
Han Wu grinned. "I expected to fight someone interesting. Instead, I get a dog without a collar. You'll make a fine stepping stone."
Kai bowed, eyes half-closed.
The referee raised a hand. "Begin!"
Han Wu attacked first, a spear of crimson Qi slicing the air. Kai dodged, just enough to let it pass. Han Wu pressed harder, unleashing a flurry of strikes, fast but telegraphed.
The crowd shouted, urging Han Wu on. Every sect wanted Dawning Blades humbled, and Kai—a nobody—was the perfect target.
Han Wu's spear swept low. Kai leapt over it, landed softly, sidestepped the next attack. He waited, patient, letting Han Wu exhaust himself.
"Stand still!" Han Wu barked, lunging with full force.
Kai met him. He caught the spear shaft, twisted, sent Han Wu stumbling. Gasps rippled through the crowd. Han Wu gathered Qi, his aura blazing. Blows came faster, heavier.
Kai felt the strain—impacts reverberated through his bones. Blood trickled from his lip. He allowed himself to stumble, fall to one knee, inviting Han Wu to close in.
Han Wu seized the moment, aiming a crushing palm at Kai's chest.
But Kai moved. One pivot, a flash—the world froze. He struck Han Wu's wrist, then elbow, collapsing the guard, and with a spinning sweep sent him crashing to the stone.
Han Wu lay stunned, unable to rise.
Kai bowed and walked off the platform without waiting for applause.
---
**The Aftermath**
In the waiting area, disciples whispered. "That wasn't normal." "He's just lucky."
Yue found him, pride in her eyes. She pressed a cloth to his lip, her hand lingering on his cheek.
"You did more than win," she whispered. "You changed something."
"I only did what I had to," he said, voice rough.
Yue shook her head. "You showed them you belong. That we all belong."
A rival sect disciple stalked past, glaring. Kai met his gaze, unflinching.
*World Eye:* "Enjoy your peace, boy. Tomorrow, it gets harder."
He nodded, to the voice and to himself.
---
**A Night of Reflection**
That night, Kai sat atop the highest roof, overlooking the city. Lanterns drifted like dreams he could never quite catch. The air was thick with hope and dread.
He thought again of the man in the garden, the old life that lingered on the edge of memory, and the path that had brought him here.
He didn't know who he would be tomorrow.
But tonight, he was Kai Jin—silent, bloodied, and, for the first time, unafraid.