That Evening - Family Dinner
Aunt Mira had thrown herself into cooking with enthusiasm, preparing a feast using the mansion's professional equipment. The dining room—capable of seating twenty—felt enormous with just five people at one end.
"This place is ridiculous," Lyanna said, looking around at the opulent space. "We could host an entire classroom here."
"We'll grow into it," Uncle Torven said diplomatically. "And it's nice to have space instead of being cramped."
"I still can't believe this is our home now," Aunt Mira added, serving food with visible happiness. "A month ago we were worried about affording Lyanna's academy fees. Now we're living in luxury that most people only dream about."
"Vaelor's success changes everything," Thorne said, his tone carrying complex emotion. "Though I worry it happened too fast. Wealth and power without proper foundation can be dangerous."
"I'm managing," the clone replied. "And I plan to continue advancing responsibly."
"Just don't forget your humanity in pursuit of strength," Thorne cautioned. "I've seen too many talented warriors lose themselves to power."
"I won't," the clone promised. Because the main body is literally cultivating to save humanity. That's the entire purpose.
The dinner continued with lighter conversation—Lyanna talking about academy preparation, Uncle Torven describing workshop plans, Aunt Mira discussing meal ideas now that she had proper equipment.
The clone participated, smiled, engaged—fulfilling his role while maintaining awareness of the consciousness link showing the main body's progress.
Main body has reached 52nd stage already, he noted. Subjective hours for him, literal hours here. The advancement speed is insane even by his standards.
After dinner, the clone retired to his room and spent several hours in meditation—not advancing his cultivation (the clone couldn't progress beyond the main body's level when they split), but refining technique applications and maintaining combat readiness.
Tomorrow would bring confrontation with Thunder Martial Hall. Nothing serious by cosmic standards, but it required appropriate performance.
Strong enough to dominate completely. Limited enough to not reveal absurd capabilities.
Wang Thornbeak and his warriors are about to learn an important lesson about choosing their targets more carefully.
Next Morning - Journey to Thunder Martial Hall
The clone woke early, dressed in casual athletic wear, and prepared to head to Crimsonpeak Martial Hall. But as he was leaving, Kieran called his communication device.
"Vaelor? Change of plans. Wang isn't coming to my hall—he's holding the challenge at Thunder Martial Hall instead. Publicly. He's made it into a spectacle."
The clone's eyes narrowed. "He's trying to humiliate you in front of an audience."
"Exactly. There are even streamers setting up. He's building this into promotional event for his facility." Frustration colored Kieran's voice. "I'm on my way there now. Can you meet me?"
"Send me the address. I'll be there in twenty minutes."
"Thank you, Vaelor. Seriously."
The clone ended the call and headed for the mansion's garage. Four luxury vehicles waited there—he'd given specific ones to each family member, but one remained unassigned for general use.
He selected the sleek black sedan, activated it with biometric authentication, and pulled out onto the street.
Thunder Martial Hall. City center. Wang wants a public spectacle.
Fine. I'll give him a spectacle. Just not the kind he's expecting.
The drive through Thornhaven's morning traffic gave the clone time to think. Wang Thornbeak wasn't just corrupt—he was strategically corrupt. Turning this into public event meant he expected easy victory and wanted maximum exposure for his hall's "champion."
He probably has some talented student ready to dominate. Wants to build reputation while crushing a smaller competitor.
Unfortunately for Wang, he's vastly miscalculated.
Twenty minutes later, the clone pulled into Thunder Martial Hall's parking area. The facility was huge—easily five times the size of Crimsonpeak, occupying a full city block.
Crowds had already gathered. Streamers with hovering camera drones. Curious onlookers. Students from various halls watching for entertainment.
This is going to be interesting.
The clone parked and got out, immediately drawing attention.
He was nearly six feet tall now, athletic build radiating condensed power. His casual athletic wear somehow looked elegant on him. His light golden eyes caught and reflected the morning sun in ways that made them almost luminescent.
And there was an aura about him—the presence of someone who'd transcended normal limitations, whose very existence suggested power beyond mortal understanding.
Multiple conversations paused as people noticed him. Girls whispered to friends. Streamers' cameras turned to track his movement. Even casual observers found their attention drawn inexplicably.
"Who is that?" someone murmured.
"I don't know, but he's gorgeous..."
"Those eyes... they're so unusual..."
"Is he a professional martial artist? Or maybe an idol?"
The clone ignored the attention, scanning the crowd for Kieran. He spotted her near the entrance—a red convertible sports car parked nearby, Kieran standing beside it wearing sunglasses despite the morning hour.
He walked toward her, and more heads turned to follow his progress.
Near a new-model air shuttle, two young women were having a conversation.
"Yuwei, look at that boy! Is he from around here?" The speaker poked her friend's arm excitedly.
Her companion—wearing a hat and glasses to cover distinctive purple hair and eyes—followed her gaze and paused, studying the approaching figure with sudden intensity.
"I think I've seen him before... but I can't remember where."
"He's so handsome! Way more attractive than those celebrity martial artists!" The first girl was practically vibrating with excitement.
"Can you stop fangirling for five minutes?" the purple-haired girl replied with fond exasperation. "We came to watch a martial challenge, not scout for attractive people."
"Look, look! He's walking this way! That lazy, confident aura is just..."
The purple-haired girl—Luo Xi—looked up properly as the golden-eyed boy passed nearby.
Their eyes met for just an instant.
Luo Xi's breath caught.
Mental power fluctuation!
She could sense it clearly—subtle but unmistakable. High-quality spiritual energy radiating from him in controlled waves.
He's a spiritual-type awakened! Like me!
That was extremely rare. Spiritual-type talents were considered some of the most valuable and difficult to develop. Meeting another practitioner randomly was...
The boy's gaze lingered on her for just a heartbeat longer than casual, as if he'd also sensed her spiritual power. Then he continued walking toward the woman by the sports car.
"Xixi? You okay? You look stunned," Yuwei asked.
"I'm fine," Luo Xi replied, though her mind was racing. Who is that boy? Why haven't I heard of another spiritual-type in Thornhaven? And why did his mental power feel so... refined? So controlled?
He can't be just a student. That level of spiritual development takes years...
She watched as he approached the woman by the red car, the two clearly knowing each other.
Crimsonpeak Martial Hall Representative Meeting
"Vaelor!" Kieran greeted him with visible relief. "Thank god you're here. This situation is even worse than I thought."
She gestured toward Thunder Martial Hall's entrance. "Wang has turned it into a full promotional event. There are at least three major streamers here, dozens of spectators, and he's been building up his 'champion' all morning."
"Who's the champion?" the clone asked.
"Some guy named Liam Glade. Class S student from Thornhaven Academy, apparently. A-rank talent, rare profession. Wang's been hyping him as the next rising star."
The clone searched his inherited memories—the main body's knowledge before the split. "Never heard of him."
"Doesn't matter. Wang picked someone talented specifically to make this humiliating for me." Kieran's expression was grim. "If we lose, I forfeit the hall according to martial tradition. Wang gets everything—the facility, the techniques, the reputation."
"We won't lose," the clone stated with absolute confidence.
Kieran studied him. "You're really not worried at all, are you?"
"Why would I be? This is just local politics. Small-scale posturing." His golden eyes gleamed. "I've seen what real power looks like. This is... entertainment."
Before Kieran could respond, a commotion at the entrance signaled that things were beginning.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" A voice boomed through external speakers. "Welcome to Thunder Martial Hall! Today we witness an exciting challenge match between our rising champion and a representative from Crimsonpeak Martial Hall!"
The crowd stirred with interest, cameras focusing on the entrance.
"This is it," Kieran said quietly. "Whatever happens, thank you for standing with me."
The clone smiled—cold, confident, absolutely certain.
"Don't thank me yet. Wait until you see what I do to their champion."
They walked toward the entrance together, the clone's presence drawing every eye as they approached Thunder Martial Hall's grand doorway.
Inside, Wang Thornbeak waited with his warriors and his carefully prepared champion.
And outside, cameras recorded everything, ready to broadcast this "promotional event" to anyone interested in local martial hall drama.
This is going to be educational, the clone thought with anticipation.
For everyone involved.
TO BE CONTINUED...
[Main Body Status: Advancing through early stages, subjective hours passing]
[Clone Status: About to enter Thunder Martial Hall challenge]
[Time Until Confrontation: Minutes]