The Grand Elder did not reside in the opulent main hall, but in a simple, elegant pavilion nestled in a grove of whispering bamboo. The air here was serene, the only sound the gentle rustling of leaves.
Inside, Grand Elder Wen was a surprisingly diminutive figure, seated on a simple cushion. He looked ancient, his face a web of wrinkles, but his eyes held the light of countless stars and the depth of silent oceans. His Qi was not a roaring force, but a vast, still presence that filled the pavilion, making the very air feel heavy with wisdom.
He observed the four of them as they entered and bowed. His gaze lingered on each, seeing past their physical forms, perceiving the weapons they had forged within their spirits.
"Li of the Swift Gale," he said, his voice like the rustling bamboo. "Your path is one of freedom and cleverness. Do not let it become recklessness."
His eyes shifted to Kael. "Kael, the Unmoving Peak. Your foundation is solid. Remember, the strongest mountains are those that can weather change."
He looked at Jian. "Jian, the Untouchable Blade. Your focus is a weapon sharper than any steel. But a blade that cannot be sheathed will eventually break."
Finally, his ancient, knowing eyes settled on Wang Chen. A long moment of silence passed. The weight of his gaze was immense, and for a second, Wang Chen felt as if the Grand Elder could see the very system interface in his mind, the chaotic core of his spirit root, the memory of the Primal Forge.
"Wang Chen," the Grand Elder said, and the name sounded different on his lips, no longer a label of scorn but a statement of fact. "The boy with the Useless Spirit Root." He paused. "The mountain has given you a new name, has it not? The Adaptable Core."
Wang Chen's breath hitched. How could he know?
"The paths you have walked are not unknown to this sect," Grand Elder Wen continued, answering the unspoken question. "Though few have walked them so deeply, and none as one. The Convergence Platform, the Sunken Aviary, the Heartstone Chamber... and the Primal Forge." He said the last two words with a tone of deep reverence. "You have been blessed. And you have returned changed."
He steepled his fingers. "This presents both an opportunity and a problem for the sect. Your power is no longer easily categorized. Your allegiance, untested beyond your small group."
"Where do your loyalties lie?" he asked, his question directed at all of them, but his eyes remained on Wang Chen.
It was the question Wang Chen had been asking himself. His loyalty to a sect that had scorned him was thin. His loyalty to the friends beside him, forged in the mountain's crucible, was real.
Before he could form an answer, a commotion erupted outside the pavilion. Raised voices, one of them belonging to Liang Jin.
"Grand Elder! I must protest! This... this trash has used demonic tricks! He consorts with outsiders! He—"
"Silence."
The Grand Elder did not raise his voice, but the word carried the force of a divine decree. The commotion outside ceased instantly.
The Grand Elder's gaze finally left Wang Chen and swept over all four of them. "The upcoming Inter-Sect Tournament is in one month. All major sects will be present. You four will represent the Muay Thai Sect."
The announcement landed like a thunderclap. It was an immense honor, one that would usually be fought over bitterly by the most elite core disciples.
"It will be a chance to prove your worth, to show the world what the mountain has wrought," the Grand Elder said. "And for the sect, it will be a chance to see where your loyalties truly fall."
He waved a dismissive hand. "Go. Prepare. You are excused from all menial duties. The resources of the inner sect are available to you. Use them."
Dismissed, the four of them filed out of the pavilion. Outside, they saw Liang Jin being firmly escorted away by two other elders, his face a mask of pure, incandescent rage.
As they walked back into the heart of the sect, the weight of the Grand Elder's gaze and the promise of the tournament hung over them. They were no longer just four individuals who had survived a trial. They were a unit, an anomaly, and a focal point for the hopes, fears, and jealousies of the entire Muay Thai Sect.
The quiet journey was over. The storm of the outside world was about to begin.
(To be continued...)