The courtyard still buzzed with energy long after the tournament had ended, yet the chosen six were quickly ushered away from the sea of disciples. Three days were granted for them to rest, recover, and prepare for the path ahead.
For Li Wei, the hours passed both swiftly and unbearably slow.
The academy that had once seemed vast now felt small, its familiar courtyards and training grounds suddenly distant, as though he were already half a step removed from them. Wherever he walked, whispers followed: admiration, jealousy, disbelief. Some disciples bowed respectfully, while others turned away, unable to accept that he had risen where they had fallen.
That night, as the moon cast silver across the academy roofs, Li Wei was summoned.
The principal of the academy, an elder whose back was slightly bent with years but whose eyes remained sharp, awaited him in the quiet of the ancestral hall. Incense curled toward the rafters, the air thick with the scent of sandalwood.
"You've walked far, Li Wei," the principal said, his voice steady. "Farther than any student of this academy has in decades."
Li Wei bowed deeply. "Without your guidance, Principal, I would not have had the chance."
The old man smiled faintly. "Guidance is but a lantern. You carried your own flame. But remember this — Heavenly Dragon Sect is a mountain beyond mountains. Your victories here will weigh as lightly as feathers once you arrive."
Li Wei straightened, his expression calm but resolute. "I understand. But I will not falter."
"Good." The principal studied him for a long moment, then his tone softened. "When you walk among them — princes, bloodline heirs, those with fortunes greater than kingdoms — do not measure yourself by what you lack. Measure yourself only by how far your sword can reach."
Li Wei absorbed the words in silence, his chest tightening faintly. Then he bowed once more. "I will remember."
The following days were a blur of small moments that carved themselves deep into memory.
Liang Fei could often be found in the training yard despite his injuries, laughing loudly as he threw punches at wooden posts reinforced with iron bands. His knuckles bled anew each day, but he seemed to revel in it. "If I can't fight until my fists split, how will I know I'm alive?" he declared to anyone who questioned him.
Jian Tao, by contrast, carried himself with aloof silence. The humiliation of his loss lingered, though he wore his princely mask as though nothing had changed. He exchanged few words with the others, yet when his gaze fell upon Li Wei, there was a sharpness there — not of hatred, but of a pride that refused to die.
Xu Feng was less subtle. He scoffed openly at the academy disciples, his crimson patterns faintly glowing whenever his temper rose. "Enjoy your pride while it lasts," he sneered once, his voice pitched low but carrying. "In Heavenly Dragon Sect, your kind will be forgotten before the first season ends."
Li Wei did not rise to the bait, though Liang Fei barked a laugh. "Then I'll make sure you remember me, Ironblood pup. My fists don't forget faces."
Even Mei Yun, quiet as she often was, seemed to carry a new gravity about her. She avoided unnecessary conversation, yet whenever Li Wei passed, her eyes lingered for a moment longer than before, as if measuring the calm steadiness he carried after victory.
On the final evening, Li Wei stood alone atop the academy wall. The city stretched beyond, lantern lights flickering like stars scattered across the earth. Above, the heavens stretched vast and unbroken.
For the first time, he felt the weight of departure not as triumph, but as farewell. This place had raised him, tested him, shaped him. Yet it was only the first step of a journey that stretched toward horizons he could not yet see.
He closed his eyes, letting the night wind brush against his face. His qi flowed steady in his veins, late-stage refinement burning bright. But somewhere deep within, he felt it — the faint tremor of a greater mountain yet ahead.
When dawn broke on the third day, the courtyard was prepared once more. The golden-robed elder of Heavenly DRagon Sect waited, his presence alone stilling every whisper.
"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice like rolling thunder.
Li Wei, Liang Fei, Jian Tao, Shen Mu, Mei Yun, and Xu Feng stepped forward together. Their paths could not be more different, their hearts not more distant, yet for this single moment, they stood as one.
The elder's sleeve stirred, summoning forth a jade vessel etched with countless runes. It hovered in the air, casting long shadows across the courtyard. Gasps rose from the watching disciples.
"This vessel will carry us to Heavenly Dragon Sect," the elder intoned. "From this moment on, your lives belong not to kingdoms or clans, but to the Dao you carve within the Sect's walls."
The six exchanged brief glances. Then, one by one, they boarded.
Li Wei stepped onto the vessel last, his hand brushing the rail. He looked back once at the academy grounds — familiar stone walls, rooftops, courtyards filled with faces he knew. Then he turned away.
The vessel rose.
The wind swept past, carrying them higher, further, until the city below became a patchwork of roofs and streets. The academy grew small, then vanished entirely.
Ahead, the horizon stretched vast and endless.
The wind howled past, sharp and pure, carrying scents of mountain and river as the land blurred below. Li Wei gripped the railing, eyes wide as the world unfolded in ways he had never imagined. Valleys that once seemed boundless shrank to cracks in the earth. Mountains he had thought eternal were but pebbles beneath the horizon.
Jian Tao stood tall at the vessel's prow, crimson robes billowing, but even his princely air could not conceal the awe flickering in his gaze. Liang Fei laughed like thunder, his voice stolen away by the rushing wind. Mei Yun and Xu Feng remained silent, though both stared forward — one with calm serenity, the other with something darker twisting in his eyes.
Days passed in hours. The vessel cut across distances no horse could traverse in months. Forests gave way to endless plains, plains to deserts, deserts to mountain ranges so vast the sky itself seemed to rest upon their peaks.
And then — Heavenly Dragon Sect.
It did not rise upon a mountain. It was the mountain. A range of peaks bound by clouds and light, each crowned with palaces that gleamed like jade, waterfalls spilling down into rivers of qi. Immortal cranes wheeled in the skies, their cries clear as bells. The very air was thick with spiritual energy, so pure that breathing it felt like drinking from a spring.
Li Wei drew a steady breath, the true journey had begun.