Chapter 85: Roots of Resistance
Point of View: Third Person Omniscient
Rumors sprouted like weeds in the imperial court.
They whispered in marble hallways, flowered in private pavilions, and snaked through the corridors of power—insidious roots ready to choke the Broken Sky envoy and his unconventional bond.
Within the Council of Twelve's chamber, Elder Jian leaned forward, voice low but sharp as a cleaver.
"His victories embolden the scandal. The factions rally behind him not for loyalty, but for spectacle. If we do not act, the entire order will fracture."
Elder Mo, silent until now, tapped his jade ring. His eyes glazed with cautious calculation.
"The people adore him," Mo intoned. "Common folk chant his name. They see in his defiance what we fear: change."
Jian's lips curled. "Then let us remind them why tradition endures."
⸻
Meanwhile, within the envoy estate, the four heroes felt the chill of courtly winds.
Yue Zhu stood at the mirrored window, her reflection framed by jadevine blossoms. Across the courtyard, couriers delivered sealed letters—invites to diplomatic teas, threats thinly veiled in gilded script, and ultimatums disguised as condolences.
She folded one note with calm precision. Its message: an imperial decree that Kai should abandon two of his companions to preserve 'sect harmony.'
Yue's breath caught. The weight of expectation pressed upon her like winter frost.
⸻
Kai Jin found them in the practice hall, swords resting against the polished floor.
He paused at the threshold, concern etching his features.
Yue looked up, meeting his gaze. "They demand sacrifice."
Bai Ru laid aside her healing herbs. "An imperial decree. They claim our bond undermines stability."
Lin Su's demon mark glowed faintly beneath her collar. She spat on the floor. "They mistake fear for wisdom."
Kai stepped forward. "Then we must show them strength."
⸻
That afternoon, Lin Su stormed into the Grand Library—a place of solemn silence and reverent study—unwilling to wait for ceremony. A hush followed her every step.
She approached the Council's emissary, a polished noble draped in silk and deceit.
"There's talk of limiting our envoy," he began, voice silk over steel.
Lin Su cut him off. "My place beside Kai Jin is not a favor. It's earned."
The emissary's smile faltered. "It's unprecedented."
"Unprecedented, yes," Lin Su agreed. "But we are not the first to rewrite history."
She turned away, leaves swirling at her heels.
His reevaluation echoed in silent halls.
⸻
Yue confronted Elder Mo beneath the ginkgo tree in the southern gardens.
"Tradition protects us," he said, voice measured. "But also binds us."
Yue's blade flashed. Not in violence, but in certainty.
"What binds me to him gives me freedom," she replied.
Mo studied her—her unwavering eyes, her resolute calm.
"Perhaps freedom needs its own tradition," he conceded quietly.
⸻
At dusk, Bai Ru hosted a small gathering in the healing pavilion. She offered tea infused with lotus petals, each cup a silent gesture of reconciliation.
The attending healers—once skeptical—found themselves moved by her sincerity.
"Your unity… it shows us another way," one elder confessed.
Bai inclined her head. "Healing begins when we break the mold."
Word of her words spread through servant corridors and noble tongues alike.
⸻
That night, the four convened beneath the moon-blossom tree in the envoy garden, their silhouettes entwined by silver lamplight.
"We've stirred the soil," Kai said softly. "Now we watch what grows."
Yue rested her hand on his chest. "Roots run deep."
Lin Su grinned, leaning against Bai Ru. "Let them try to tear us out."
Bai placed a hand on Lin's shoulder. "Even the sturdiest roots can flourish in rocky soil."
Kai closed his eyes. The World Eye pulsed behind his vision—steady, unwavering.
"When roots anchor, storms cannot sweep away the tree."
Their bond held fast.
⸻
Deep in the palace's hidden council room, Elder Song poured over raven-black ink.
"They adapt quickly," he murmured. "But young roots can be moved."
A younger minister nodded, disposing of a vial marked with Kai's sigil.
Song's eyes gleamed. "Let's see which way the wind blows next."
And beyond palace walls, the Crownless Tournament marched on—its trials and tribulations demanding more than any one heart could bear.
Yet in the envoy garden, four hearts beat in defiance.
[To Be Continued in Chapter 86: Threshold of Pain]