News did not travel loudly through the Hollow Bone Sect.
It seeped.
A name appeared in ledgers.A number changed beside it.A few conversations paused half a breath longer than usual.
Feng Azazel.
Bone Forging Realm.First Stage.Registered on the ninth day.
At first, it was treated as nothing more than curiosity.
Outer disciples talked. That was expected. But the name did not remain in the outer court.
It moved.
Within the inner sect, attention came differently.
No whispers.No excitement.Only brief glances at records and silent recalculations.
An inner disciple paused while reviewing the updated registry, eyes lingering for a moment longer than necessary.
"Outer sect," he muttered. "Nine days?"
He said nothing more.
The page turned.
But the name stayed.
In the core disciple courtyard, the matter surfaced during routine discussion.
Not announced.
Mentioned.
"There's an outer disciple," one of them said casually, setting down a cup of tea. "Bone Forging on the ninth day."
Another scoffed.
"Unlikely."
"Recorded," the first replied. "Elder Wei confirmed it."
That gave them pause.
Elder Wei was not careless.
Still, no one rose from their seat.
"Ninth-grade spirit root," a woman said, tone dismissive. "Fast, but not impossible."
"Especially if he used external aids," another added. "Spirit fruits. Temporary catalysts."
"Which would explain the speed," the first concluded. "And the shallow realm."
They nodded.
Impure Qi was common.
Fast breakthroughs were rarely free.
The conversation moved on.
Higher still, in the sect's upper halls, a man sat alone.
Lu Shen.
Sect Master of the Hollow Bone Sect.
He held a thin jade slip between two fingers, eyes unfocused.
The report had been brief.
Feng Azazel.Outer disciple.Ninth-grade spirit root.Bone Forging Realm, First Stage.Nine days.
Lu Shen frowned slightly.
Not deeply.
But enough to show thought.
Too fast, he considered.
Even in better sects, such speed would attract attention. Here, it bordered on implausible.
His mind sifted possibilities.
Mutated root?No—too rare.
Hidden background?Unlikely.
External aid?
That was more plausible.
Spirit fruits circulated often enough. Crude ones. Powerful enough to force a breakthrough if used recklessly.
The price was always the same.
Impure Qi.Unstable foundations.Early brilliance followed by collapse.
Lu Shen exhaled slowly.
Another short-lived talent, he decided.
He dismissed the thought.
There were too many matters that required real attention.
The jade slip was set aside.
Among the elders, reactions were similar.
Measured.
Controlled.
A few raised brows. A few quiet discussions.
"Nine days is fast," one elder said.
"Fast doesn't mean lasting," another replied. "Especially at ninth grade."
"If he used spirit fruits, he'll stagnate."
"Or burn out."
Agreement followed.
The sect had seen this pattern before.
Many times.
They did not intervene.
Back in the outer court, Azazel felt none of this directly.
But the environment had changed.
Disciples moved differently around him now.
Some avoided him outright.Some lingered too long.Others watched from a distance, eyes sharp, calculating.
A few inner disciples passed through the outer court more frequently than before.
None spoke to him.
None needed to.
Observation was enough.
Azazel noticed all of it.
And said nothing.
Inside his hut, he sat motionless.
The lotus within his dantian remained quiet.
He understood what the sect thought.
Fast advancement meant shortcuts.Shortcuts meant flaws.Flaws meant a natural ceiling.
They had categorized him.
Dismissed him.
And that was exactly what he wanted.
Let them believe it, he thought.
Impure Qi.
Temporary brilliance.
A wasted seed.
Those assumptions bought him time.
And time allowed strength to grow without interference.
Azazel opened his eyes.
Outside, the sect continued as it always had.
Elders calculated.Disciples competed.The strong watched for weakness.
None of them saw the foundation beneath his bones.
And none of them sensed how still it was.