The sun was already high when the courtyard finally emptied.
Everyone had collapsed in various states—sweaty, cursing, legs shaking like newborn deer. Tano lay flat on his back staring at the sky like he'd seen death. Mira sat against a pillar, sword across her lap, breathing hard but glaring at me like this was all my fault. The younger ones were scattered like discarded rags.
I didn't feel much better. This body still sucked. Core barely holding a flicker. Legs burning from holding stances longer than five minutes. But I could feel the tiny threads of qi starting to weave—slow, stubborn, pure.
Good enough for day one.
I wiped sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. "That's it for morning. Eat. Rest. Back here at noon. We do it again."
Groans rose like a chorus.
"You're kidding."
"Again?!"
"I think my thighs are on fire again…"
I cracked my neck. "You think? Good. Means they're waking up again. Then... dismissed."
They dragged themselves away, muttering. Mira shot me one last look, half irritation, half something else—before she left.
I stayed behind. Alone in the dusty courtyard. The fog had burned off, and below us the megacity shimmered like a fever dream. Towers. Lights. Drones. A whole world I hadn't seen yet. A world that had moved on without the Ashen Sovereign.
I was about to head to the herb shed, maybe force some qi circulation while lying down—when the main hall door creaked open.
Heavy footsteps.
An old man stepped out.
Gray hair wild like he'd fought a storm and lost. Robe stained with old spills. Eyes bloodshot but sharp. In one hand: an empty soju bottle. In the other: nothing. Just the weight of too many years.
Elder Goro Thal.
He stopped at the top of the steps. Looked down at me. Squinted.
"…Lynch?"
I straightened. "Elder."
He scratched his stubble. Voice rough like gravel.
"You… you look different today. Less like a kicked puppy. More like you want to kick someone."
I smirked. "Maybe both."
He snorted. Came down the steps slowly, bottle swinging.
"Heard the kids whining. Said you made them hold horse stance till their legs gave out. Said you're suddenly some kind of drill sergeant."
"Someone has to be."
Goro stopped in front of me. Close enough I could smell the liquor and old sweat.
"I know I'd already told you this, you're been here two years. Two years of sweeping floors, hauling trash, hiding in corners. Gloomy little shit who wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. Now you're barking orders like you own the place?"
He leaned in. Eyes narrowing.
"What changed?"
I met his gaze. Steady.
"I woke up."
He stared for a long moment. Then barked a laugh, short, harsh.
"Woke up, huh? Convenient."
He turned, gestured with the bottle toward the overgrown bamboo grove.
"Walk with me."
I followed. We moved past the training grounds, past the sagging wooden halls, toward the cliff edge where the mountain dropped away to the city below.
Goro stopped at the railing, half-rotted wood barely holding. He leaned on it anyway. Looked out at the glowing sprawl.
"You ever been down there, Lynch? Into the city proper?"
"No."
"Didn't think so. Old Lynch never left the mountain. Too scared. Too weak. Too… nothing."
He took a swig from the empty bottle. Realized it was empty. Cursed under his breath and tossed it over the edge.
It disappeared into the fog.
"Me? I used to go down. A lot. Tournaments. Rift hunts. Sponsors. Women. Liquor. Thought I was somebody."
He laughed again—bitter this time.
"Then Varkis fucked us. Sold the vein. Got caught. Iron Phoenix laughed us out of every contract. Sponsors vanished. Kids left. Now we scrape by on scraps. Herb sales. Low-rank beast cores nobody else wants. Cleanup jobs in the slums."
He turned to me.
"And you want to fix it? With what? Breathing drills and stances?"
"With everything," I said.
Goro studied me. Long. Hard.
"You talk like someone who's seen worse."
"I have."
He snorted.
"Bullshit. You're what—sixteen? Seventeen? What the hell do you know about worse?"
I didn't answer right away. Just looked down at the city.
Then I said, quiet:
"I know what it feels like to lose everything because you thought you didn't need anyone."
Goro went still.
I kept going.
"I know what it's like to watch people die because you were too proud, too stubborn, too fucking alone. I know what regret tastes like. And I'm done tasting it."
He didn't laugh this time.
He just stared.
Then he sighed. Rubbed his face.
"You sound like an old man in a kid's body."
"Maybe I am."
He chuckled—low, tired.
"Alright, kid. You want to play savior? Fine. But if you're bullshitting me, if this is some phase, some fever dream—you're gonna regret it more than I will."
He straightened. Looked back at the compound.
"The kids hate you right now. Mira thinks you're possessed. Tano wants to bury you under the herb shed. Kaelin's probably hacking security cams to figure out what drugs you're on."
I grinned.
"Good. Hate means they're listening."
Goro shook his head.
"You're trouble. Capital T."
He started walking back.
"Training at noon. Don't be late. And Kai?"
I turned.
"If you're really serious… don't hold back. These kids have been drifting too long. They need someone to drag them. Even if they scream the whole way."
He paused at the hall door.
"And if you break them… you fix them."
I nodded.
"Deal."
He disappeared inside.
I stood there a moment longer. Wind off the city carrying faint neon hum and distant horns.
The old man wasn't strong anymore. Wasn't fierce. But he'd stayed. When everyone else left, he stayed.
That was enough.
For now.
I cracked my knuckles.
Noon couldn't come fast enough.
These kids thought they were trash?
They had no idea what real trash looked like.