Tian's room was cut into the stone like an afterthought. No bed, no lanterns, just a mat on the floor and a narrow slot where dry rations slid in each morning.
The air stank of sweat and cold iron.
He sat against the wall with his knees drawn up, breathing slow. Not in meditation. Just trying to stop his bones from shaking. The trembling wasn't from fear. It came from something deeper. Something starting to wake.
He remembered what Rohen had said during their last drill.
You fight like someone trying not to feel.
Tian looked at his hands. No glow. No glyphs. Just skin. But something had moved beneath it when he faced that last blade. A flicker. A throb.
He didn't reach for it. Not yet.
Trial Blades didn't wait for anyone.
The next morning, the bell rang twice. Combat rotation. No weapons. No breaks.
The fighters lined up in the sand pit. Rohen stood above them, arms crossed.
"Pairs. Rotate every hit. No repeating forms. If I see a copy, you run until your heart gives up."
