Dawn broke over the Ascendant Grounds with a thin veil of mist, the kind that made the white stone of the Central District glow faintly. It should have been peaceful.
It wasn't.
Not for Chen Yuan.
Not for Gu Long.
Not for Elder Zhao.
The Tribunal Hall—an immense building with seven marble pillars—loomed over the plaza like a silent judge. Disciples murmured in corners, guards stood stiffly with spears, and even the birds avoided the roof as if sensing storm clouds gathering invisibly.
This was not an ordinary hearing.
It was a spectacle.
Rumors had already spread:
"A disciple is accusing a Sect Elder."
"Impossible. He'll die."
"No, he has a lawyer from outside—the University."
"Elder Zhao won't let this pass."
Chen Yuan walked beside Gu Long, each step measured.
The scrolls were tucked tightly under his arm.
Gu Long, insanely calm for someone who nearly died last night, straightened his robe and stretched his fingers like a musician preparing for a performance.
Lu Fu limped behind them, bandaged but determined.
When they reached the entrance, two Tribunal guards lowered their halberds.
"State purpose."
Gu Long answered before Chen Yuan even inhaled.
"Filing case Z-113: Misconduct, extortion, falsification of records, illegal disciplinary directives, and attempted suppression of witnesses, all committed by Elder Zhao of the Zhao Clan."
The guards' expressions shifted subtly.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Recognition.
They had heard.
The halberds lifted.
"Proceed."
Inside, three Judges sat on elevated seats—two elders from neutral clans and one scholar from the Sect's Judicial Department. Cold, authoritative eyes assessed the trio as they stepped forward.
And at their right—
stood Elder Zhao.
His robes immaculate, his beard neatly combed, his expression completely neutral.
Just as Chen Yuan remembered—
a mountain of silent cruelty.
But there was something new.
Behind Elder Zhao stood two figures from the Zhao Clan.
One held a small case.
The other, a sealed scroll.
Gu Long's eyes narrowed instantly.
They brought counter-evidence.
The air got thicker.
The lead Judge spoke:
"Chen Yuan of the Chen family. You seek to open a case against Elder Zhao. Present your accusations."
Chen Yuan stepped forward.
His heart hammered like a drum, but his voice came steady.
"I accuse Elder Zhao of eight counts of debt extortion, three counts of falsifying disciple records, two counts of illegal disciplinary punishments, and one count of attempted witness suppression, occurring last night."
A ripple ran through the room.
The Judges leaned forward.
Elder Zhao didn't move.
The Judge signaled.
"Provide your representative."
Gu Long stepped forward and placed a hand on the table.
"I, Gu Long, external legal practitioner of the University of Qiu Chen, will represent the accuser."
Another ripple—this time shock.
External legal practitioners rarely stepped into sect affairs.
This meant war.
The Judge nodded.
"Elder Zhao, your representative?"
A man stepped forward—a middle-aged cultivator with a stern face.
"Xun Rui, internal lawkeeper of the Zhao Clan."
A hush fell.
Two prodigies.
Two blades.
The Judge raised a hand.
"Present your proofs."
The moment had come.
Chen Yuan set the three scroll boxes on the table. Gu Long opened them with slow, deliberate grace. He unrolled the first scroll.
"Here," Gu Long said, voice smooth, "is a requisition order demanding the Chen family pay for cultivation resources they never received. Irregularity level: high."
The Judges examined it, whispering among themselves.
Gu Long unrolled the second.
"And here, Elder Zhao forced disciples to pay for nonexistent beast cores, inflating debt taxes by over 500%. Forbidden by Sect Code 12."
More whispers.
Gu Long slowly unrolled the third scroll, the buried one.
"And this—disallowed on every level—is a hidden disciplinary directive ordering the public punishment of Zhao Ming, age 15. Without cause. Without review. Without witnesses."
A cold shock spread across the Tribunal.
Xun Rui finally spoke.
"Fabrications. The Zhao Clan retains our own records. We will present the correct versions."
He opened the case.
Took out three gleaming scrolls.
Laid them beside Gu Long's.
Gu Long didn't flinch.
The Judges unrolled the Zhao Clan versions.
Their brows tightened.
One spoke:
"These documents… contradict each other."
Xun Rui smiled. "Then the Tribunal must decide which is legitimate."
Gu Long stepped forward, lips curling in a precise, deadly smile.
"I anticipated this."
He placed a fourth scroll on the table—one the Tribunal had not seen.
A scroll sealed in gold wax.
The official Sect Registry Seal.
Gu Long tapped it lightly.
"This is the original archive record of the disciplinary directive. Retrieved yesterday from the Judicial Hall. Impossible to forge. Impossible to alter."
The Judges' eyes widened.
Xun Rui's face paled.
Elder Zhao's fingers twitched once.
Gu Long continued:
"And these," he tapped the Zhao Clan scrolls, "contain inconsistencies in handwriting, timestamp, and ink composition. All three are forged."
One Judge slammed a palm onto the table.
"Bring the ink master!"
A man rushed forward, examined the scrolls, and bowed deeply.
"These three are forged. The one produced by the accuser is the original."
The Tribunal erupted.
Gasps.
Shouts.
Voices rising like waves crashing in the hall.
Elder Zhao finally raised his head.
His eyes locked on Chen Yuan.
Cold.
Murderous.
The Judge's voice boomed:
"Elder Zhao, do you deny these charges?"
Elder Zhao smiled.
Calmly.
Softly.
Horrifyingly.
"Yes," he said. "Because none of it matters."
He stepped forward.
His qi flared—
an invisible pressure like a falling mountain smashed through the hall.
Chen Yuan staggered.
Lu Fu collapsed to his knees.
Gu Long clenched the table to stay upright.
Elder Zhao's voice rumbled like thunder.
"You think the Sect will punish me?
You think scrolls matter?
I am the Zhao Clan.
I choose which disciples live or die.
And today—
I choose this one."
He pointed directly at Chen Yuan.
The Judges shouted for order—
but Elder Zhao moved.
Faster than a whip.
Faster than Chen Yuan could react.
His hand reached for Chen Yuan's throat—
But before it could close—
The Conquest screamed.
A blinding red aura burst from Chen Yuan's side, cracking the marble floor.
Elder Zhao recoiled as if struck by lightning.
Gasps filled the hall.
The Judges froze.
Gu Long's eyes widened in fear and awe.
Chen Yuan stood trembling, but unbroken, The Conquest pulsing fiercely.
Elder Zhao hissed:
"You…"
The entire Tribunal fell silent—
as someone stepped into the hall's entrance.