The Lotus Blossom Sect had always stood upon three immovable pillars: tradition, power, and silence. Tradition kept the disciples obedient, power kept enemies at bay, and silence... protected the secrets that should not be touched. But now, something had begun to change. The elders sensed it like a sour scent in the air.
Patriarch Hua Qingshan, a man over 300 years old with hair white as frost, meditated in the Hall of the Everlasting Flame, surrounded by the grand elders. His eyes remained closed, but his voice rumbled like the wind through bamboo: "The spiritual flow from the underground has been altered."
One of the elders nodded seriously. "And rumors are spreading, Patriarch. Disciples are changing their attitudes, informal alliances are forming among minor pavilions, and there are reports of brief disappearances... as if someone is moving without leaving a trace."
Another elder chimed in: "The Hall of the Sleeping Flame... its formation was partially activated a few days ago. No spiritual presence was detected, but there was a rupture in the illusionary energy."
Qingshan finally opened his eyes. His pupils, milky white, seemed to have replaced sight with pure clairvoyance. "Someone is playing with the invisible threads. And they are doing it well."
On the other side of the sect, Li Wei was privately coughing up blood. Despite his victory against the spiritual puppet, his body hadn't fully recovered. He used breathing techniques to hide the damage, but the pain was still there, like a knife lodged in his side.
"I fought with everything... but I'm still physically weak," he admitted, applying a mixture of herbs to his wounds.
Ryuna had offered him brutal, relentless physical training, but he had rejected her with a smile: "First, I must train my mind to withstand another level."
In truth, he didn't want anyone to know that he had killed something that shouldn't exist. Not yet.
But while he plotted in the dark, others were already moving in the light. Zhao Ren, a core disciple and direct protege of the Quartz Spear Elder, was known for two things: his arrogance and his contempt for the "useless ones who crawl." And someone had spoken to him about Li Wei.
"That bastard not only humiliated others in the tournament, but now the weak disciples follow him as if he were a sage," Zhao Ren told his master.
The Elder said nothing, but his brow furrowed. "If we allow a manipulator to rise... it will bring chaos. The sect has been sustained by order, not by the poison of words."
"Do I have your permission, Master?"
"Do it."
Zhao Ren smiled.
News of the "Formal Challenge" spread like wildfire. Zhao Ren vs. Li Wei. An official combat, in front of disciples and elders. The rules were simple: whoever was challenged could not refuse, and whoever did not show up was considered a coward and expelled from the core cultivation ranks.
Li Wei read the letter with a twisted smile. "I see... so the board has awakened."
That night, Ryuna confronted him. "Will you accept it?"
"I have no choice."
"He is two realms above you."
"And you are three above him. Will you come hug me if I survive?"
She did not smile. "If you die... I'll be bored."
Li Wei nodded with feigned solemnity. "Motivation enough."
Xue Lan watched from a distance. Things were no longer a simple game. She didn't understand how, but Li Wei had ignited a spark. The sect was no longer the same. And now someone powerful wanted to crush him.
"If he survives..." she murmured. "...then I can't keep underestimating him."
On the day of the combat, the Northern Celestial Ring was packed. Inner and core disciples, and even three assistant elders, watched from the balconies. The combat would be not just a test of strength but a silent judgment: could the mind challenge the spear?
Zhao Ren descended first, his spear shining and his posture impeccable.
Li Wei, unarmed, wore only his gray robe and had empty hands.
"Are you not afraid to die?" Zhao Ren asked arrogantly.
"I'm only afraid of being bored."
The signal was given. Zhao Ren charged, his spear like a bolt of lightning.
And Li Wei smiled, blood on his teeth. Because he had memorized Zhao Ren's spear style beforehand. Because he had sown rumors for a week about the young man's arrogance. Because he had infiltrated fear and insecurity into one of his followers, who betrayed him with critical information. And because, just before the combat, he had used his Mental Silk to implant an echo of doubt in his opponent's mind: "What if he knows your secrets?"
Zhao Ren's first strike missed. The second was deflected. The third, Li Wei redirected with his empty palm. And on the fourth... Li Wei trapped him.
It was an illusion. A mental trap. A blind spot created not by speed... but by emotional manipulation. The spear fell. Zhao Ren stumbled.
And then, Li Wei placed his palm on his forehead and publicly humiliated him with a slight push. The disciple fell to the ground. Defeated.
Silence.
And then, chaos.
An outer disciple, without a weapon or formal combat technique... had defeated a high-ranking core disciple. The elders murmured. The name "Li Wei" could no longer be ignored. Not by the disciples, not by the sect, and not by the Patriarch.