The dawn of the next day painted the Verdant Sword Sect in golden and orange tones.
The gigantic trees that blended with the constructions cast long shadows over the almost hidden buildings.
The atmosphere of the sect, even in the morning, seemed more restless than usual, heavy. And above all, filled with expectation.
On this day, the entire inner sect was awaiting a single event.
The battle was between the already recognized Mo Tianhai and Kyrian, the new direct disciple whom the vast majority only knew by name.
In the silent courtyard where Kyrian was, the calm contrasted with the bustle occurring in the sect.
He had awakened before the sun rose and then sat in the center of his courtyard. Legs crossed, the sword resting upon his knees.
His eyes were closed, breathing slowly, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm.
