Ramsey had gone to the only elder he could trust, Elder Popas, one of the most skilled martial artists in the Reed clan. Among all the seniors, Popas stood apart. He was not only formidable in strength but also straightforward in character, the kind of man Ramsey believed would not hide behind tricks or schemes. When they began training together, Popas assumed Ramsey was simply another Reed trying to claw his way upward with average talent and ambition. He had expected something simple.
He was mistaken.
Within hours, Popas felt his chest tighten as his old heart pounded faster than it had in years. Ramsey had comprehended the essence of cosmic energy in a single session. It was a feat so rare that even skilled warriors required days, sometimes weeks, to achieve it. What he was witnessing shook him to the core. This boy was not ordinary, and perhaps he was not even the same boy Popas thought he knew.
While Ramsey trained, news began to spread across the region. What started as a whisper became a storm. From villages to bustling towns, from taverns to merchant halls, the same story was told in countless voices.
Ramsey Reed, the bastard son of Corlannius, patriarch of the Reed clan, had been healed.
The cripple who had been mocked for years, the boy who had never been able to hold a sword, was no longer broken.
At first, people laughed at the absurdity of the claim. Yet as the rumor traveled from ear to ear, its persistence forced many to wonder. Within the Reed clan itself, members whispered uncertainly. Servants exchanged worried looks, and elders spoke behind closed doors. None of them truly knew the details.
Some swore that a mysterious expert had appeared in secret and healed Ramsey as a gesture of goodwill toward the clan. Others insisted that one morning he had simply walked out of his room, healthy and whole, as if by some miracle.
No one knew the truth.
The mystery fueled endless talk. Guards murmured during their shifts, and servants whispered in dark corners. Tavern keepers told the tale to their patrons with gleaming eyes. Hope stirred among the common folk, for if someone like Ramsey could be cured of what was believed to be an incurable affliction, perhaps others burdened by illness might also be saved.
The region buzzed with restless curiosity. And then a second rumor arrived, even more unbelievable than the first.
It was said that Ramsey Reed would join the Midnight Trial.
The Midnight Trial was no ordinary event. It was a rite of passage reserved for the strongest youths of the clans. Its dangers were so great that many who entered never returned. For a cripple to participate was unthinkable.
At first, the claim was dismissed as nonsense. But as the rumor refused to die, doubts began to take hold. Perhaps Ramsey was no longer the broken youth people remembered. Perhaps something extraordinary had indeed taken place.
The whispers spread to the Snow clan. They passed from guards to servants until they finally reached the ears of a certain young woman.
Vera Snow sat in her chamber, the dim glow of a lantern casting shadows across the room. She hummed a soft melody as she brushed her long white hair, each stroke of the comb smooth and deliberate. Across the room, another young woman lounged lazily on the bed. She was Lucy Tyrell, daughter of the powerful Tyrell clan, her beauty radiant even in her casual repose.
"Vera," Lucy said, her voice carrying a playful lilt, "have you heard the rumors?"
Vera frowned, her comb pausing mid-stroke. "Which rumors? There are so many these days that I cannot keep track."
"You know the one I mean. Do not pretend otherwise."
"What if I truly do not know? Do you think I waste my days listening to idle gossip the way you do?"
Her words were sharp, and Lucy pouted as if wounded.
"Do not tell me you have not heard that Ramsey Reed has been cured."
For a moment, Vera's face remained unreadable. Then she burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the chamber.
"Ramsey? Cured? That is the most ridiculous tale I have heard all year. You saw him yourself. He is nothing but a broken shell of a man. How could such a person suddenly stand tall again?"
Her laughter faded into anger.
"And to think my family once tried to betroth me to him. Me, Vera Snow, married to a cripple? All for the sake of securing the Reed clan's favor? I would sooner die."
She flung her hair to the side, her movements filled with pride. Lucy, realizing she had made the mistake of believing the rumor, rushed to amend her words.
"You are right. This must be a ploy, nothing more than a trick to make the Snow clan reconsider its decision."
Vera nodded sharply. "Exactly. They underestimated me. I will never marry that useless fool. Even if my father throws me from the clan, I will not allow myself to be humiliated in that way. Fortunately, Ramsey was a cripple, so even Father supported me in rejecting the match."
With a huff, she rose from her seat, her snow-white hair flowing behind her like silk.
"Let us not speak of such people again. Talking about him ruins my day."
While idle gossip filled the chambers of noble daughters, a more serious conversation was taking place elsewhere. Inside the high chamber of the Craster clan, Patriarch Xavier Craster sat among his elders. The chamber was solemn, its torches casting long shadows across the stone walls.
"The spies have confirmed it," one elder reported gravely. "The news is not false. The boy has truly been healed."
Patriarch Xavier slammed his hand onto the armrest, the sound cracking like thunder.
"Impossible. I always suspected the Reed clan harbored secrets, but this? Do they truly possess a medical expert of such ability? We cannot allow ourselves to underestimate them."
Another elder leaned forward, his expression grim. "If such an expert truly exists in their ranks, then even if we united with the Snows and the Tyrells, we could not match the Reed clan. None of us have the power or the wealth to rival such strength."
The chamber erupted in anxious whispers. Fear mingled with suspicion. The balance of power among the four clans was fragile, and any shift could prove catastrophic. If the Reed clan had gained the support of a hidden master, then the future of the region itself was uncertain.
Speculation swirled endlessly, yet none of them could grasp the truth. The cripple had not been healed at all.
Ramsey Reed had died.
And in his body, Lue had been reborn.
Days later, on the training field, Lue continued his rigorous practice. He remained oblivious to the storm of rumors raging across the land. His world was narrowed to the clash of fists, the sharp intake of breath, and the measured instructions of Elder Popas.
From time to time, the elder's eyes lingered on him with suspicion. He could not understand how such talent had remained hidden. Lue absorbed each technique with frightening ease. Where others stumbled, he flowed. Where others hesitated, he adapted instantly.
"There it is again," Popas muttered under his breath. "This boy is no ordinary Reed. His talent surpasses the average by far. If Corlannius discovers this…"
He let the thought trail away. Then he barked, "To your left!"
Lue spun, blocking the strike with precision.
"Aha!" he exclaimed.
Popas snorted. "Still as slow as a turtle. Perhaps not a pregnant one, but still far too slow."
The words were harsh, but they carried purpose. Popas knew the value of criticism. Praise might soften a boy, but sharp words would temper him like steel. Lue pushed himself harder, his movements growing sharper, his focus deeper.
The clang of armor suddenly cut through the air. A guard sprinted across the yard, his face pale and breath ragged.
"Elder Popas," the guard called urgently, "the patriarch has summoned you."
The elder stiffened. Something in the guard's tone told him this was no simple call. He turned to Lue.
"Wait here," he ordered. Straightening his robe, he walked away with the dignity of a man untouched by exertion, not a drop of sweat upon him.
Lue sighed as he watched him go. "I wonder what that is about."
He threw a few more punches, testing his balance, though unease lingered at the edge of his thoughts.
At the gates of the Reed clan, a luxurious carriage rolled to a halt. Four armored soldiers stood at attention as the door opened. Two young women stepped out, their robes swirling in the morning breeze. Their eyes gleamed with sharp purpose.
One leaned close to the other and whispered, "If this is truly a trick, do you think they will let us see him?"
Her companion narrowed her eyes. "They have no choice. Either they show us this miracle, or their reputation collapses. I came here to expose the Reed clan for what they are. Once I reveal the truth, they will never be able to raise their heads among the other clans again."
The carriage behind them gleamed in the morning sun, but all eyes were on the Reed gates. Whatever awaited them inside would decide whether the rumors of Ramsey Reed were lies, or whether something far more complicated had taken root within the clan.