Kael's life settled into a strange, tense rhythm. He was the protector of the slums, a silent,
"sturdy" guardian. And he was the subject of an intense, silent study by a cultivator prodigy. He
and Lin Yue were a truly bizarre sight: the man in plain, mended clothes, covered in dust from
his labors, and the ethereal "ice-goddess" who followed him, observing his every, mundane
action with the focus of a hawk.
Their philosophical battle was unspoken but constant. He would bind a cut on a child's knee;
she would watch, her expression unreadable, as if trying to understand the purpose of such a
low-stakes, low-reward action. He would mediate a fight, and she would stand by, a silent, icy
deterrent that did more to keep the peace than his words.
He was beginning to get used to her presence. He was beginning, in a strange way, to almost...
tolerate it. And then he arrived.
He came on a storm. Not a literal one, but a storm of Qi. He was a young man, barely older than
Lin Yue, but his power was loud. Where Lin Yue's was a deep, silent cold, his was a crackling,
bright, and arrogant lightning. He wore the immaculate, white-and-gold robes of the 'Raging Sky
Sect', a powerful sect second only to Lin Yue's own.
His name was Yan Fei, and he was, in every way, her equal. A Foundation-Establishment
genius, famed for his "Thunderclap" techniques. And, as Kael would soon learn, he was Lin
Yue's sect-approved, arranged suitor.
He found Lin Yue on her rooftop perch, watching Kael haul sacks of rice into the orphanage.
"Yue'er," Yan Fei's voice boomed, startling the entire street. He landed on the rooftop next to
her, his golden robes crackling with static. "My father said I would find you 'meditating' in this
wretched port. I see what 'meditation' you are engaged in."
Lin Yue's back went rigid. She turned, her face a mask of cold fury. "Yan Fei. You are not
welcome here."
"Not welcome?" He laughed, a sharp, barking sound. He looked down at the street. His eyes fell
on Kael, who had stopped, his hand on his sword, and was looking up at the new, overwhelming
power signature.
Yan Fei's gaze was one of pure, unadulterated disgust. "This... is what you are doing? Wasting
your talent? Staring at a... a cripple? A mortal ant?"
"He is not your concern," Lin Yue said, her hand moving to her flute.
"He is my concern!" Yan Fei roared, his voice now a crackle of thunder. "You are my betrothed,
Lin Yue! My partner! And you are embarrassing me. You are embarrassing your sect! This...
thing... is a stain on your honor. On my honor!"
Kael felt a cold dread. This was not a slum lord. This was not a 3rd-rank beast. This was a
prodigy. This was power on Lin Yue's level.
"I will cleanse this stain for you," Yan Fei decided, his voice dripping with condescending
magnanimity. "It is a simple matter. I will erase this 'ant,' and you and I will return to the Sect
Path, as it was meant to be."
Before Lin Yue could even form a protest, Yan Fei's hand crackled with golden light. He pointed a single finger down at Kael in the street below.
"Die, insect," he commanded.
A bolt of golden, fist-thick lightning, a power that could shatter stone and boil blood, shot from
his fingertip, aimed directly at Kael's heart.