Elsewhere in the city, young disciple Renli strode ahead of his small entourage, his dark robes flicking in the evening breeze. He had been charged with guiding the junior disciples back to their inn after training, and though his legs were weary, he walked with the quiet confidence of someone determined not to lose face.
Behind him came Mei, Jin, Yun, and two others, all novices in their sect, trusting Renli's lead. The lanterns hanging from archways cast a dim golden glow on the slick stone streets, the city murmuring in hushed tones as night began to settle.
"Did you see them?" Jin whispered, half to himself, half to Mei, as they rounded a corner into a slightly broader street.
Renli turned his head. Ahead, pacing slowly toward them, were four women in flowing silks of pale silver and muted blues. Their hair was artfully arranged, their eyes bright, their bearing graceful: unmistakably disciples of the Boundless Yin sect. The moonlight seemed to cling to their forms, accentuating their features.
Jin's eyes widened. "They're beautiful," he said, his voice low but loud enough for the others to hear. He nudged Mei with his elbow. "Have you ever seen ladies so fair? The Boundless Yin disciples must be unmatched in grace."
Mei snorted, rolling her eyes. She glanced sharply at Jin, her lips curling in disdain.
"Why do you sneer? Are you jealous?" Jin asked, almost mocking, a little too eagerly.
Mei's gaze hardened. "If you know what's good for you, stay away from those vixens," she said softly, but with enough volume to reach Renli and the others.
"Vixens?" Jin echoed, a flicker of confusion and amusement mixing in his tone. He gave her a puzzled look. "Why would you say that?"
Mei shifted her stance, eyes flickering to the approaching women. "Those 'beautiful' ladies of the Boundless Yin sect are not as noble as they pretend to be. They feed on desire. They lure innocent young men into their beds… then devour them."
Renli, overhearing, frowned. He glanced at the approaching disciples and then back at Mei. "That's a strong claim," he said. He coughed, trying to push the tension down. "Do you… Really believe that?"
Mei's lips tightened. "I don't just believe it," she said stonily. "I've heard stories. Several from traveling disciples. Men who got involved and lost more than just their pride."
One of the juniors, Yun, wrinkled his nose audibly. "They even reek of men," he muttered, barely under his breath, but loud enough for Renli to hear.
Renli's eyes flashed, half with surprise, half with irritation. He shot a sharp glance at Yun. "Be careful what you say," he warned.
The Boundless Yin disciples drew nearer. The one in front, her eyes shimmering silver, paused and offered a polite (but cool) nod at Renli's group.
Renli bowed respectfully. "Greetings, fellow cultivators," he said. "May your path be illuminated."
The woman nodded again, but her lips didn't curve into a smile. "May your qi flow steadily," she replied, voice soft and controlled.
As they passed, their silk skirts whispering along the stone, Mei watched them go with narrowed eyes. Jin, still struck by their beauty, recovered first.
"That was… extraordinary," he murmured under his breath.
Mei's stare lingered on the departing backs. "Yes," she said quietly. "Extraordinary at disappearing the moment things go wrong."
With that, the group resumed their walk to the inn, the quiet night now heavy with unspoken suspicions, and the seeds of distrust already planted.
....
The city of Starfall was more alive than usual. Every street glimmered with banners and streamers, and the usual calm had given way to energy and excitement.
Cultivators from every region filled the avenues, their robes brushing against one another as they moved toward inns, restaurants, and arenas. Merchants had set up temporary stalls, hawking trinkets, spirit stones, and charms promising luck in the upcoming tournament.
Kyle walked calmly through the streets, his hands tucked loosely behind his back. His black hair caught the dying sunlight, glowing faintly as the wind stirred. Beside him was Nuna, quiet and elegant, her eyes sweeping across the busy streets with calm awareness. Behind them followed Sebastian, the old butler of the Ravenshade family, his posture straight despite his age, hands clasped neatly behind him.
He could hear the loudness coming from across the city, in the coliseum.
"It would have been easier if Father had come," Kyle said quietly, his gaze lifting toward the distant towers rising above the city's rooftops. "With an entourage, at least we'd have been received like the other noble families."
Nuna smiled faintly, her tone teasing but soft. "Would that have changed how people look at you? You'd still prefer to stay unnoticed, wouldn't you?"
Kyle chuckled under his breath. "Perhaps. But unnoticed is not the same as unacknowledged."
Sebastian let out a low hum, the kind that spoke of quiet agreement. "Your father had his reasons, young master. The invitation to participate in the tournament was—"
"A formality," Kyle finished for him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yes, I know. No one expects a Ravenshade from this generation to fight in the tournament, let alone win it."
They walked in silence for a few moments, weaving through the crowd. Vendors shouted, children darted between legs, and the scent of roasted chestnuts drifted through the air.
"Let them underestimate you," Nuna said finally, glancing at him with eyes that gleamed like polished obsidian. "It will make your victory taste even sweeter."
Kyle's expression softened. "You sound very confident."
"I am," she said, unbothered. "For both of us."
He laughed quietly, the sound blending with the hum of the streets. "You're strong, Nuna. Stronger than me, perhaps."
She tilted her head slightly, considering. "Perhaps," she said. "But strength isn't always about power. Sometimes it's about control. And in that, you are learning quickly."
Sebastian smiled faintly from behind them, watching the two with fondness. "If I may be so bold, you both argue like old companions already."
Kyle turned, a hint of humor flickering in his eyes. "You make it sound as if that's a bad thing, Sebastian."
"On the contrary," the old man said, his tone light. "It is a comforting thing. Familiarity breeds strength."
The trio walked on until the street narrowed, giving way to a quieter part of the city. The noise dimmed; here, the air smelled faintly of woodsmoke and lavender from nearby inns and bakeries. Signboards hung above doorways, some painted with bright colors, others faded from years of weather.
Kyle slowed, scanning the signs. "We'll stay in this district. Mid-tier inns, away from the noise, but close enough to the Coliseum."
Nuna nodded. "Practical as always."
They passed one inn, too noisy, filled with laughing disciples. Another, too grand, its steps crowded with servants tending to wealthy nobles. Kyle stopped before a third, smaller building tucked between two tall houses. Its sign read: The Evening Lights Inn.
The entrance was framed by vines and tiny lanterns. Warm light spilled from inside, golden and calm. Through the open doorway came the soft scent of freshly baked bread and polished wood.
"This one," Kyle said simply.
Sebastian inclined his head. "A modest choice, but clean. Sensible."
They stepped inside. The interior was cozy, with wooden floors, tables neatly arranged, and a small counter at the front where a young woman was scribbling something in a ledger. A few travelers sat at tables, eating or quietly talking. The atmosphere was peaceful, a gentle refuge from the bustle outside.
The young woman looked up at the sound of the door. She was about Kyle's age, dressed in plain work clothes, her brown hair tied back with a ribbon. Her eyes widened slightly when she saw the trio.
Kyle approached, polite as always. "Good evening. Do you have any rooms available for the week?"
The girl, whose name tag read Rachel, opened her mouth to respond, but her words caught in her throat.
He was handsome, more than handsome, really. His face was finely cut, his expression calm yet kind, his eyes sharp but gentle. For a moment, Rachel forgot what she was supposed to say. He looks like a prince, she thought helplessly. 'Like someone out of the old stories.'
She realized too late that she had been staring. Kyle's lips moved; he was speaking again.
"Miss?" he repeated, his tone soft but questioning. "Do you have any rooms available?"
Rachel blinked, color rushing to her cheeks. "O-oh! Yes! Yes, of course!" She fumbled for the ledger, nearly dropping her quill. "Forgive me, I—ah—the prices are higher this week, because of the tournament."
"How much?" Kyle asked.
"One silver per room, per night," she said quickly, still flustered. "Usually, it would be a tenth of that, but—"
"The tournament," Kyle finished with a faint smile. "Understandable."
She nodded, her blush deepening. Her eyes darted toward him again, only to catch sight of the woman standing beside him.
Nuna's presence was striking, her beauty quiet but commanding, the kind that could silence a room. Her short blue hair framed her face perfectly, her posture effortless and graceful. When Rachel's gaze met hers, the truth hit all at once.
'Of course', she thought miserably. 'Someone like him wouldn't be alone.'
A pang of disappointment settled in her chest. Whatever brief fantasy had been brewing in her mind crumbled as quickly as it had appeared. She lowered her eyes, focusing on the ledger, willing her thoughts back to her work.
"That will be for the week," she managed. "If you'll just—"
Kyle placed a small gold coin on the counter. "Two rooms. One for me and dear, and another for the gentleman."
Rachel froze. She looked at the coin, her eyes wide. "S-sir, that's far too much—"
"Keep the change," Kyle said easily. "You'll have many guests this week, I imagine. Consider it goodwill."
Rachel's lips parted in surprise. Her hands trembled slightly as she bowed deeply. "Th-thank you! Thank you very much, sir!"
She fumbled with the keys, selecting two from the wooden rack behind her. "Your rooms are on the second floor. I'll show you."
As they followed her up the stairs, Nuna glanced sideways at Kyle, her lips curling faintly. "You're very generous," she said softly.
Kyle shrugged lightly. "It costs nothing to be kind."
Sebastian, behind them, murmured approvingly. "A fine sentiment, young master. It is always wise to leave a good impression where one stays."
Rachel led them to a hallway lined with simple doors, the air faintly scented with herbs. She unlocked the first door, revealing a modest but clean room, a soft bed, a washbasin, and a small writing desk near the window.
"This will be yours, sir," she said, then turned to the next room for Sebastian. "And this one, for your attendant."
"Perfect," Kyle said.
Rachel hesitated in the doorway, fingers tightening around the keys. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask. Meals are served downstairs at dawn and dusk. There's a bathhouse in the back, shared but clean."
Kyle inclined his head politely. "Thank you, Miss Rachel."
Her blush returned at the sound of her name. "Y-you're welcome," she stammered, then bowed again before hurrying down the hall.
When she was gone, Nuna let out a soft chuckle. "You realize you make it difficult for people to breathe around you?"
Kyle blinked, amused. "Me?"
"Yes," she said. "That poor girl nearly forgot how to speak."
Sebastian cleared his throat delicately. "If I may say, young master, the lady is correct. Your face causes… disruptions."
Kyle laughed quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can't help how I was born."
Nuna smiled, crossing her arms. "No, but you can help being oblivious."
He raised a brow. "Are you jealous?"
Her smirk deepened slightly. "Should I be?"
He looked at her for a moment, then smiled. "No."
She turned away, hiding the faint warmth that touched her cheeks. "Then let us rest. Tomorrow, we should visit the registration hall early."
Sebastian bowed and excused himself to his room, leaving the two alone. The inn had grown quiet now, the noises from below fading to a soft murmur. Outside, the city was settling into its nighttime rhythm, the distant hum of music, the occasional call from a street vendor, the faint clatter of carriages.
Nuna removed her cloak and folded it neatly over a chair. "Do you think anyone will recognize you tomorrow?" she asked.
"Maybe," Kyle said, sitting by the window. "Rumors of my duel with Noah have spread faster than I expected. But most people think it is exaggerated."
Nuna's voice was calm, confident. "Let them think that. It will be amusing to watch their faces when you prove them wrong."
Kyle smiled faintly. "You have a lot of faith in me."
"I've seen what you can do," she said simply. "And what you're becoming."
He looked out the window. Lanterns swayed gently in the street below. "Still, I wish Father were here. Even if he disapproves."
Nuna's expression softened. "He'll hear of your victories soon enough."
They fell silent for a time. The soft glow of the lantern cast a warm hue across the room. Kyle leaned back, letting the quiet settle around them.
Finally, Nuna spoke again. "Tomorrow begins the first test. Are you ready?"
He turned to her, eyes calm. "More than ready."
She smiled, that same confident curve of her lips that always seemed to steady him. "Good. Then rest, Kyle Ravenshade. The world doesn't yet know your name, but soon, it will."