Smoke and silence drifted over the broken stones of the tournament grounds.
The final match had ended just moments ago—Kai Jin's victory etched in every crack of the arena floor. His body, still faintly steaming, sat atop one of the benches, hands wrapped tightly as medical elders scrambled to tend to his deeper injuries.
Above, banners waved gently in the midday light.
The crowd remained standing—some in awe, others in disbelief.
On the high dais, sect elders and envoys began to speak in hushed tones. Recordkeepers unfurled scrolls. Names were inked with precision.
From the side pavilion, a lean elder from the Stormflower Sect muttered, "That boy from the Dawning Blades… too wild. But dangerous. One to watch."
A woman in indigo robes, the representative from the Iron Spirit Pavilion, crossed her arms. "Rank 5 is generous. He should've died in that last match. But he didn't."
On the imperial balcony, a figure cloaked in crimson and gold leaned over toward a messenger. "Send word to the capital. All top twenty are to be vetted."
Beneath the roar of the crowd, a gong sounded—deep, echoing, final.
A voice amplified by Qi rang through the stadium:
"By order of the Imperial Court, the final rankings of the Grand Martial Tournament are as follows!"
The crowd stilled.
"First Place: Lin Su of the Rising Thunder Sect."
"Second Place: Jian Hao of the Crimson Blaze School."
"Third Place: Yue Rin of the Dawning Blades."
"Fourth Place: Zhenya of the Cold Veil Pavilion."
"Fifth Place: Kai Jin of the Dawning Blades."
Whispers surged through the crowd.
Kai remained still.
His hands trembled slightly, wrapped tightly. But it wasn't pain—it was focus. His breath came steady. His body burned.
But his mind?
Quiet.
"The top twenty contestants have been granted provisional status as disciples of the Imperial Court. You are hereby summoned to the capital for further cultivation, training, and evaluation!"
Cheers erupted.
Yue glanced over at Kai from her seat across the inner sect benches. A faint smile touched her lips—but it was reserved, private.
She hadn't approached him since the match.
Not out of coldness—but out of awareness. Something had changed in him. In her.
Nearby, Lin Su stood watching Kai from the shadows, arms crossed, expression unreadable. She had placed first, but it was the fifth-ranked fighter who intrigued her most—and the mark inside her, the ancient thing that whispered in her bones, trembled with recognition every time he passed.
In the distance, someone approached the back of the benches—an older boy with cropped silver hair and sun-burnt skin.
"Didn't think I'd see you again," he said, grinning crookedly.
Kai looked up.
It was the quiet merchant's son—the one he'd helped in the city so long ago.
They locked eyes.
No words.
But something clicked into place.
Full circle.
That night, the sects returned to their camps.
In a high chamber atop the arena walls, the imperial envoy watched the tournament records being archived.
One of the scribes paused. "The boy… Kai Jin. No background. No formal records. Yet he bears… something strange."
The envoy didn't respond.
He simply stared at the parchment.
Then whispered:
"Send word to the capital. He may be the one."