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Chapter 7 - Chapter 7 – Wrong Place, Wrong Attention

The Acheron estate woke early, as always. Servants moved through the halls, carrying scrolls and gear. Young cultivators filled the side courtyards with clashing wooden staffs and bursts of light ki. Discipline came early in this family, and no one wanted to be the one dragging their feet.

Darius Acheron kept to the edges.

He showed up just past sunrise near the quiet eastern courtyard, a place mostly ignored by the stronger cousins. It was worn down, the tiles cracked in places, and the training dummies here were patched and forgotten. Fitting.

He stretched a little, keeping his movements controlled. He didn't release much ki, didn't draw attention. Just motion — slow, calm, almost lazy.

For most, Darius was that cousin with high talent and low effort. Strong roots, rare potential, and nothing to show for it. He didn't argue. He didn't explain.

A group of voices came echoing through the side path. Four figures approached. Revan walked in front, as usual, tall and loud, with three other cousins at his back. All of them wore that same confident Acheron posture — the kind that came from being trained, praised, and placed on a path with clear steps to power.

"Well, well," Revan said, stopping a few feet from the ring. "Didn't think you remembered this courtyard even existed."

Darius stood up straight but said nothing.

Revan pointed toward a nearby post where a sparring board had been pinned. His smirk grew.

"Looks like the system added your name to the match list."

There it was. Darius glanced at the board. His name had been paired—Darius vs. Kael.

Kael, another cousin from the wind branch, was already warming up. Not as skilled as Revan, but still Tier C. Above Darius's current level, at least on paper.

"You signing up now?" Kael called out. "Or trying to back out before anyone sees?"

"No pressure," Revan added, half-laughing. "Just a little test, cousin."

Darius didn't answer right away. His posture stayed neutral, his tone even when he finally spoke.

"One round. That's it."

The others backed off slightly, giving the two space. More cousins wandered over, curious. Not every day they saw Darius step into a ring.

The match started without fanfare. No formal opening, no call to begin. Kael charged in fast, wind ki pushing through his steps. His first strike was wild but direct—a blow meant to test defenses, maybe knock Darius off balance.

Darius didn't block. He ducked, slipping sideways with barely enough movement to avoid contact. A few in the crowd raised eyebrows.

Kael kept going. A second attack followed—a spinning kick, sharper this time. Darius didn't respond with a strike. He let it pass close, shifting his weight again, using just enough motion to stay out of range.

Some thought he was panicking. Others realized quickly he wasn't rushing at all.

The third move came. Kael leaned in, opening his left side just slightly in the process.

Darius reacted—not with power, but with precision. A short burst of ki directed low, just enough to tap Kael's ankle.

It wasn't strong. It wasn't flashy.

But Kael stumbled.

He caught himself quickly, but the crowd saw it. The moment passed in silence. Kael stared at Darius, confused for half a second.

"Lucky," he muttered.

The match ended without anyone declaring a winner. Darius didn't wait around. He gave a small nod and stepped off the ring, heading back toward the path he came from.

He didn't look proud. He didn't even look interested. Just calm. Detached.

But Revan didn't miss the change in mood among the onlookers. Some were already whispering. A few glances followed Darius's retreating back.

No one expected much from him. No one ever did.

Now, for the first time in a long while, they noticed something small—and couldn't explain it.

Back in his wing of the estate, Darius returned to his room. He stayed there most of the day, quiet, unseen.

He didn't speak about the match. He didn't talk to anyone. He barely moved from his spot on the floor.

What no one else saw was the faint shimmer in the air as a system screen flickered once, then faded.

The Boundless Nexus had recorded everything—his steps, Kael's imbalance, the observers' reactions. A soft warning hovered in the background.

Exposure Level: Increased

Suggestion: Minimize combat for 48–72 hours

Passive Concealment: Holding

Darius leaned back against the wall. His eyes stayed half-closed. He didn't relax. Not fully.

If anything, he seemed more alert than usual. Tense. Unsettled.

He didn't want attention. He had made that clear with his silence. But now, even with one harmless match, a few glances had turned curious.

That was the problem with places like this. They noticed small things. They remembered them. And they always came back later to test what they didn't understand.

Darius wasn't afraid. But he wasn't calm either.

He knew what came next.

And for now, he would keep quiet. As quiet as possible.

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