In the upper halls of the Azure Spirit Sect, the evening air shifted. A tremor of qi rolled across the mountain like a distant thunderclap. Even the lowest disciples paused mid-meditation, eyes snapping open.
Within the Hall of Eight Pillars, runes carved into the floor shimmered faintly, echoing the clash from the gorge far below.
Elder Ji's snowy brows furrowed. "Such turbulence… from the Broken Fang Gorge?"
Another elder leaned forward, eyes sharp. "Not merely turbulence. That was no common clash of disciples. A Core talisman's imprint laced the wave."
Murmurs spread. To use such power in a disciple trial was unheard of.
The great bronze bell tolled, and elders gathered beneath the flickering lanterns. The hall smelled of sandalwood and old scrolls, a place where destinies were decided with words sharper than blades.
Elder Ji spoke first, voice calm but heavy. "Reports tell us Lin Xuan was sent to the gorge. And now this disturbance coincides with his presence."
A hawk-eyed elder scoffed. "Coincidence? Hardly. That cripple already stirs unrest with whispers of sorcery. Now he draws talisman fire into a disciple trial? He is a danger to the sect's balance."
Another elder shook his head. "Or he is the only reason the gorge has not claimed more lives. The Alpha's qi trace was within that clash. If it truly appeared, many disciples would already be dead without someone to hold the line."
The debate split swiftly:
"He copies techniques unnaturally.""Already he humiliates Meng Zhao's favored Core faction.""Geniuses that rise too fast invite calamity. Better to prune early than regret later."
"He commands in battle, binding even enemies into cooperation.""He redirected a Core talisman—who else among our Outer disciples could manage that?""If the sect abandons such talent, we will be feeding him to our rivals instead."
Elder Ji closed his eyes, listening, his silence heavier than any word.
At the edge of the chamber, Meng Zhao himself knelt, robes pristine, voice measured with practiced humility.
"Honored elders, I speak only of what I have seen. Lin Xuan breeds unrest. He bends disciples around him with unnatural speed. Already, some whisper that he is not one of us, but something else wearing our robes."
The hawk-eyed elder nodded grimly. "And your counsel?"
Meng Zhao lowered his head, eyes glinting. "Do not let his shadow grow unchecked. Let him remain in the Outer Sect—where his rise can be watched, and his fall, if needed, managed."
His words slid like poison into water.
One elder, her hair streaked silver, struck the floor with her staff. "Enough. Fear blinds you. If this Lin Xuan turned back a talisman, he is not a threat but an opportunity. Should he be suppressed, our sect will stagnate. Should he be nurtured, we may yet rise beyond our rivals."
Her words cut through the murmurs, leaving silence in their wake.
Elder Ji finally opened his eyes, snow-white gaze unreadable. "Both arguments hold weight. The boy lives—for now. But the gorge will tell us more. If he emerges alive, the sect must decide whether he rises… or falls."
The hall's lanterns flickered, casting long shadows across the debating elders. Beyond the sect walls, the gorge still raged with beasts and blood.
And Lin Xuan, unaware of the words spoken above him, stood at the center of a storm that could either crown him… or crush him.