The sky was barely bright when Lin Xuan stepped into the Sword Hall training grounds for the first time.
Morning mist floated around the stone pillars, each one carved with ancient sword patterns that glowed faintly from the rising sun. Rows of young disciples stood in formation, practicing swings in unison. Blades cut through the air, leaving crisp echoes across the courtyard.
Lin Xuan walked in silently, his expression calm, unreadable. Despite his plain gray robe and youthful appearance, a quiet pressure appeared the moment he stepped past the gate—one that made several disciples glance at him in surprise.
They didn't know why, but something about him felt… sharp.
A few whispers spread through the group.
"Isn't that the kid who awakened Silver Rank talent yesterday?"
"He looks so ordinary…"
"Silver Rank? Probably just luck."
"Yeah. Let's see how long that arrogance lasts."
Lin Xuan ignored them and moved to the back of the formation.
He had no interest in recognition.
Not yet.
After a few minutes, the air trembled faintly. A man stepped forward from the inner hall.
Tall. Straight-backed. His hair tied in a simple black ribbon. His eyes cold and deep like a sheathed blade.
Instructor Zhao, Sword Hall master of the outer disciples.
Even the troublemakers straightened immediately.
"In today's training," Instructor Zhao said, his voice crisp and cutting, "we will evaluate the new disciples. Your standing in the hall will depend entirely on performance."
Several older disciples smirked.
They were already eyeing Lin Xuan.
Fresh meat.
Instructor Zhao's gaze swept across the group and stopped on Lin Xuan.
"You," he said.
Lin Xuan stepped forward calmly.
"Yes."
"You awakened Silver Rank Sword Talent yesterday."
"Yes."
Zhao nodded once. "Then we will see if your talent is real… or if your display was a fluke."
He turned toward the weapon rack and pointed.
"Take a wooden sword and join the sparring circle."
A cluster of disciples perked up immediately.
"Perfect!"
"Let's see how 'genius' he is!"
"He looks weak. I bet he can't even take one hit."
Lin Xuan selected a wooden practice sword. The moment his fingers touched the handle, something subtle changed. The wooden blade seemed to vibrate faintly, as if responding to him.
A few sharp-eyed disciples frowned.
"That… was strange."
"The sword reacted?"
Lin Xuan stepped into the sparring ring.
Instructor Zhao raised his voice.
"Which disciple volunteers to test him?"
Half the circle's hands shot up at once.
Before Zhao could select someone, a loud voice cut through the air.
"I will."
A tall, muscular youth stepped forward, smirking with confidence. His name echoed across the hall—
Li Shen, the strongest outer disciple.
Several disciples whispered excitedly.
"This is great!"
"Li Shen will crush him!"
"Silver Rank? Useless in front of Li Shen's strength."
Li Shen cracked his knuckles.
"I'll make this quick. A little genius shouldn't waste Instructor Zhao's time."
Instructor Zhao didn't react. He simply nodded.
"Begin."
Li Shen lunged forward instantly, swinging with explosive force. His wooden sword whistled through the air, aiming directly at Lin Xuan's ribs.
A blow that would break bone if it landed.
Lin Xuan did not move.
At least, not visibly.
Just as the sword was about to hit him, his wrist flicked.
A single motion.
Unseen by most.
Wood clashed softly.
Before Li Shen could understand what happened—his own sword exploded out of his hand, spinning across the courtyard.
It landed far behind him with a clatter.
The training grounds fell silent.
Li Shen froze, staring at his empty hand.
"What…?"
He never saw the counter.
He never felt the impact.
He only realized he lost his sword after it was already gone.
A few disciples blinked rapidly.
"What happened?"
"Did Lin Xuan… move?"
"I didn't see anything."
Instructor Zhao narrowed his eyes slightly.
His gaze sharpened.
Interesting.
Li Shen regained his senses and growled.
"You little—!!"
He grabbed another wooden sword from a nearby disciple and charged again, this time faster, more violent.
Lin Xuan didn't even raise his blade.
As Li Shen swung—a gust of air surged backward, stopping Li Shen mid-step. His body jolted as if hitting an invisible wall.
He stumbled, completely off balance.
Before he could recover, Lin Xuan tapped the wooden sword lightly on Li Shen's wrist.
Tap.
It looked like nothing.
But Li Shen screamed, dropping his sword again and falling to his knees as if struck by a hammer.
His hand trembled uncontrollably, fingers locked in place.
"What… what did you do?!"
Lin Xuan's voice was quiet, almost bored.
"You overextended your grip. The flaw was too large to ignore."
Li Shen stared up at him, humiliated, furious, but unable to speak.
Instructor Zhao raised a hand.
"Enough."
His tone was calm, but the hall could feel the shift in atmosphere.
Zhao stared at Lin Xuan for a long time, eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to understand what he just witnessed.
"Your technique…" Zhao murmured, "contains traces of Intent."
Several elders who were watching from a distance stood straighter.
Intent?
This early?
Impossible.
But Zhao seemed convinced.
It shocked the disciples even more.
"He used Intent?"
"Already? But he's twelve…"
"That's absurd!"
Zhao's voice carried across the courtyard.
"Lin Xuan. Step to the side."
Lin Xuan nodded, returning to the sidelines as if nothing happened.
But the disciples were no longer whispering insults.
They watched him with a mixture of fear… and fascination.
Two more sparring rounds took place between other disciples, but no one's mind was on them. Everyone kept glancing toward the silent boy whose movements they still couldn't fully comprehend.
After training ended, Instructor Zhao spoke again.
"Disciples. I will be reporting today's evaluations to the elders. Outstanding performance will be recorded."
He looked directly at Lin Xuan.
His voice deepened.
"Lin Xuan. Follow me."
Gasps spread.
An instructor never took a personal interest in a new disciple.
Zhao led him toward the inner courtyard—a place only advanced disciples could enter.
As they walked, Zhao spoke without turning.
"That technique you used."
"It was not something you learned from this clan."
Lin Xuan remained silent.
Zhao continued.
"It was clean. Sharp. Without hesitation. Even the elders hesitate when applying Intent."
"Yet you used it on instinct."
He stopped walking and turned toward Lin Xuan, expression unreadable.
"What exactly are you hiding?"
Lin Xuan met his gaze calmly.
"Nothing."
Zhao stared at him for several seconds before laughing softly.
"Lying at your age takes courage."
He stepped closer.
"Lin Xuan. I don't know what your background truly is, but I sense one thing clearly."
His eyes sharpened like blades.
"You are far more dangerous than a simple Silver Rank talent."
Lin Xuan's expression didn't change.
Instructor Zhao didn't push further. He simply turned and opened the door to the inner courtyard.
"From today onward, you will train under me."
Lin Xuan blinked.
That was unexpected.
Zhao continued.
"Your potential is too large. I will not let it rot in the outer sect."
He looked back one more time.
"And remember this, Lin Xuan. In Sword Dao… talent matters."
He paused.
"But mindset matters more."
Lin Xuan stepped inside, the door closing behind him.
The disciples outside whispered wildly, but he paid them no mind.
Everything was proceeding perfectly.
As planned.
He would rise slowly at first, accumulating strength quietly.
Then—
He would strike.