Deep within a primordial forest, where the distant, guttural roars of beasts were enough to paralyze ordinary men, a sliver of refuge lay hidden within a damp, jagged cave.

  Huddled inside were a handful of disciples wearing a mismatched array of uniforms—the frayed grey of the Outer Court, the pristine silks of the Inner Court, and even the heavy, ornate robes of a Core Disciple. Despite their differing statuses, they all formed a tight, protective perimeter around a single figure resting in the center.

  He was a young man of undeniable promise, though currently battered. His robes were torn and stained with mud, but his eyes—a relentless, churning sea of blue—burned with the fierce light of someone who had carved his path through betrayal and ruin.

  Footsteps echoed softly against the wet stone. An Outer Disciple hurried into the cave, his chest heaving as he dropped to one knee and folded his hands respectfully.

  "Young Master," the scout whispered, his voice echoing faintly. "While I was gathering herbs and hunting for game near the perimeter, I came across an Inner Disciple. He was moving stealthily, as if searching for something."

  The young man leaned forward, the weariness in his posture vanishing as his blue eyes sharpened. He pointed a dirt-smudged finger to the left side of his own chest, where a golden crest was intricately embroidered into the fabric. It read a single, heavy character: Han.

  "The crest he wore," the young man asked, his voice low and tight. "Was it the same as mine?"

  The scout shook his head firmly. "No. I apologize, I couldn't get a clear look at the exact design, but I am certain it did not bear the Han family crest, Young Master."

  The tension bleeding into the air instantly dissipated. The young man sank back against the cold stone wall, letting out a long, heavy sigh. It was the breath of a fugitive who had been running for far too long.

  "Then it is fine," he murmured. "As long as it's not them."

  From the edge of the group, a girl stepped forward into the thin shaft of sunlight piercing through the cave’s ceiling. She adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses, the lenses catching the faint light.

  "Young Master," she began, her tone pragmatic. "Shouldn't we utilize your friendship with that girl? We could be resting safely within her family's manor right now, gathering our strength. The Han Family wouldn't dare strike at us if we were under the direct protection of their greatest rivals."

  A soft scoff echoed from the young man. A hint of wounded pride laced the sound as he looked up at the cave ceiling.

  "No," he said, the word carrying a stubborn, unyielding weight. "I can't rely on her protection forever. If I hide behind her family's walls, when will I ever grow into a true man capable of standing on my own?"

  A few of the surrounding disciples exchanged glances, faint smirks of admiration touching their lips. This exact stubbornness was why they had forsaken their comfortable lives in the sect to follow him into exile. He wasn't a master who looked for the easiest way out. To them, he was the kind of leader who, if faced with the legendary, impenetrable Stone of Hajui, wouldn't turn back. He would claw his way through the solid bedrock barehanded until he reached the other side.

  For a few fleeting seconds, the suffocating gloom of the cave lifted.

  Then, the Core Disciple leaning casually near the cave's entrance suddenly went rigid.

  The ease vanished from his face. Before the others could even process the shift in the air, the Core Disciple’s hand dropped to the hilt of his sword, his Qi pulsing outward in a dense, hostile wave.

  "Speak," the Core Disciple commanded, his voice slicing through the damp air like a blade, directed at the pitch-black shadows just beyond the cave mouth. "Who goes there?"

  The relaxed atmosphere shattered. Every disciple in the cave shot to their feet, grips tightening on their respective weapons.

  In the center of the cavern, the Young Master rose smoothly. A dark-shafted spear materialized in his hand with a sharp hum, its tip gleaming with lethal intent as he stepped forward to face the darkness.

  Leaves rustled heavily, snapping under a pair of heavy boots. A figure emerged from the dense foliage, his arms buried elbow-deep in the matted fur of a giant beast. Blood coated his hands, dripping steadily onto the forest floor. With a dull, heavy thud, he let the massive carcass drop.

  He wore the robes of an Inner Disciple, but his demeanor belonged to a cornered beast. His eyes were blown wide, swirling with a dark, demonic fury that strained against his forced composure. His bloodstained fingers twitched rhythmically at his sides, itching for violence.

  "Relax," the intruder said, the word grinding through clenched teeth. "I'm not here to fight you."

  The Young Master’s blue eyes swept over the massive corpse, then snapped back to the man. An Inner Disciple... yet he incapacitated a beast of that caliber alone? Without a scratch? Even I would struggle against such a monster.

  Steel hissed against a scabbard. One of the Young Master’s disciples stepped forward, his blade gleaming in the dappled light. "How did you slaughter that beast alone without suffering a shred of backlash? It’s unnatural. Reveal your group. You can't be out here truly alone."

  "That is none of your business," the intruder snapped.

  The blunt dismissal caused the disciples in the cave to grit their teeth. The tension snapped. An Inner Disciple from the Young Master's side lunged forward, his fists erupting with a dense, hardened layer of Qi.

  Before he could close even an inch of the distance, the Young Master moved. His hand clamped around the back of the charging disciple's collar. With a sharp heave, the Young Master tossed his own man aside.

  "Hold your anger!" the Young Master commanded, leveling his dark-shafted spear at the intruder. "We cannot afford blind enemies at this critical time. Look at his robes—he bears the crest of an Elder’s Family." He locked his relentless blue eyes on the blood-stained man. "Reveal your intentions! If not for malice, why seek us out? Speak your purpose, and we will decide if your words hold any benefit to us."

  The intruder let out an exasperated sigh, the demonic rage simmering down to a low, unstable boil. "I sought you out because your story is quite familiar to someone I know. Someone who might be of use to you now, since you both harbor a deep hatred for the Grand Families."

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  The Young Master raised his chin. Another person like me? An outcast? "How do I know if your words hold truth? And why should we take this person you speak of under our mantle?"

  "Isn't your goal to overthrow the hierarchy of those at the top?" The intruder reached into his robes. "He desires the same. It will serve you well to upend the inner workings of the entire sect by his side." He tossed a small, heavy object through the air. "If you have any more questions, take this emblem and show it to the Ke Family."

  The Young Master caught it—a polished emblem bearing the character Ke.

  The intruder smashed his bloodstained fist into his open palm. "May we meet again, whether as foes or allies. Just know this: if you ever stand in my way, your head will end up crushed against the pavement."

  "You speak awfully brazenly for someone who does not even belong to the Ke Family."

  The Core Disciple, who had been leaning silently against the cave wall, finally pushed off the stone. He stepped out of the shadows, his own crest obscured by the gloom, but his presence was heavy and undeniable.

  The intruder tilted his head. His eyes narrowed at the hidden Core Disciple. His knuckles popped as his fists clenched tight, but he forced a long, unsteady exhale, wrestling his anger back down.

  "I hope we do meet again," the intruder rasped.

  Without another word, he turned and vanished back into the lush bushes, leaving the massive beast carcass behind in the dirt.

  The heavy silence broke a moment later. "W-Well, at least we have game, right?" a bald Outer Disciple called out, a toothy smile breaking through his nerves. "I'll get to cooking!"

  The Core Disciple clicked his tongue, his eyes lingering on the rustling bushes where the man had disappeared. "Whatever art he is trying to master, it will do him far more harm than good." He turned to the Young Master. "It all depends on you now."

  The Young Master stared at the Ke emblem in his hand, deep in thought, before looking back at the handful of loyal disciples behind him.

  "Let's take a break first," the Young Master said, lowering his spear. "We shouldn't make decisions on an empty stomach."

  Cheers erupted in the damp cave. Fists punched the air, the lingering tension washing away at the promise of a hot meal and momentary peace.

  The tension in the Han Family dining hall reached a boiling point the moment Xia laid out her terms.

  "First and foremost, I am not a tool for your political games," she declared, rising slowly from her chair. Her jade eyes locked onto the Elder, unblinking. "I want the freedom to make my own choices, whether you like them or not. If you can't accept that, then consider this negotiation finished." She tilted her chin up, exposing her neck. "So you either let me go, or kill me now."

  A Junior Elder slammed his hand onto the table. A violent hum of Qi condensed around his fist, forming a jagged, shimmering blade. "Then it was nice having you for dinner, arrogant brat!" he snarled, launching himself across the room.

  "Brace yourself!" Han Weidao shouted. His dark-shafted spear materialized in his palm in a flash of light, sweeping out in a heavy arc that completely blocked the charging Junior Elder's path. Sparks rained down onto the marble floor as Qi clashed against metal.

  The Elder merely stroked his white beard. He eyed Weidao’s defensive stance for a moment before leaning forward, his gaze settling heavily on the girl.

  "You have to be more specific, Ying Xia," the Elder said, his voice a calm rumble that easily overpowered the ringing steel. "Freedom? You make it sound as if we intend to keep you in chains once you join us. Please, elaborate. What do you mean by making your 'own choices'?"

  Xia chuckled, rubbing the back of her head in a sudden, theatrical display of bashfulness. "Well, I guess I was being a bit broad." She planted her hands flat against the polished table, her demeanor shifting back to business. "Then I'll lay out the real conditions. Much more specific than the last time."

  Testing the waters, are you? Han Yao thought, taking a slow, measured sip from his porcelain cup.

  "I don't want to live here full-time. I refuse to have my movements restricted or be constantly watched," Xia stated, ticking the points off her fingers. "I'm doing just fine living in the Outer Sect. That doesn't mean I shouldn't have my own quarters here—I might stay from time to time—but that depends entirely on the situation!"

  Han Weidao nodded, seamlessly speaking on the Elder's behalf. "You wish to avoid being caged within the Manor against your will. That can be arranged."

  "Okay... now for my second request..." Xia cleared her throat, opening her mouth to speak.

  A second passed. Then three.

  A bead of sweat traced a slow path down her temple. Her fingers began to tap a frantic, erratic rhythm against the hardwood table. The confident aura she had projected just moments ago began to visibly splinter.

  The Elder raised a single, snowy eyebrow. "Hm? Ying Xia, please, continue. We are more than happy to listen to your requests."

  The Five Bright Stars leaned in, their collective gaze boring into her.

  Could it be? Han Xingyue scraped her fork slowly across her plate, the screeching sound grating on the nerves. Is her request something that could spark a fuse within the manor? What could it possibly be?

  Han Yao and Han Jing quietly observed, their faces unreadable masks of aristocratic calm.

  Does she want to request a duel first? Han Shuo grinned to himself, folding his hands together under his chin. If so, I'll be the first to do the honors and bash her down into the floorboards.

  Han Chen, however, simply rolled his eyes. "Cat got your tongue, girl? Have you forgotten your lines?"

  Beside her, Bi Kan cleared his throat softly and delivered a sharp, discreet nudge to her ribs.

  "E-Eh..." Xia jerked, a nervous, dry laugh escaping her throat. "Well, my friend here actually wrote down my list of requests! My throat is just a little dry, is all. Hahaha..."

  She ducked her head quickly, her cheeks flushing a furious pink, and hastily held up a crumpled piece of paper filled with Bi Kan's neat, meticulous handwriting.

  As the crumpled paper unfurled in Xia's hand, it just kept unrolling, dropping all the way to the marble floor.

  "That is more of a scroll than a piece of paper," Han Chen noted dryly, adjusting his posture. Around the hall, several disciples ground their teeth at the sheer audacity of the lengthy list.

  "This is outrageous!" Han Xingyue spat, her chair scraping harshly as she rose to her feet once again. "Is she even worthy of making such demands? We have to confirm if her talents are truly unparalleled before we agree to any of this!"

  Bi Kan pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead, letting out a silent, exhausted breath. Another test? Didn't you already gauge her reaction speed with the array trap earlier?

  "To truly make it fair," Xingyue sneered, taking a provocative step forward, "why don't you face one of our brawlers? He rests at the early stages of the Body Tempering Realm." She pointed a challenging finger at Xia. "Prove your martial prowess without relying on your prized golden spear. Then, we can truly acknowledge your worth in this family."

  Bi Kan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms tight against his chest. Xia relies entirely on her raw instincts. In all her time here, she hasn't taken a single lesson in formal martial arts techniques. Without her spear... she might actually lose.

  Xia didn't hesitate. "Do I have to prove it again? Fine. Who will it be?"

  She casually tossed her spear into the air. The heavy golden weapon dissolved into a flash of light, vanishing safely back into her spatial ring.

  "I'll show you that even someone beyond my realm level is but a stepping stone for me!"

  She smashed her fists together in anticipation. The sudden gust of wind caught the long scroll of demands, sending it fluttering away until Bi Kan’s hand shot out, snatching it from the air.

  "Xia, don't be reckless," Bi Kan warned, his voice low and urgent. "You don't need to prove anything—"

  "Your arrogance knows no bounds, Pink Whirlwind."

  The heavy voice echoed from one of the side dining tables. An Inner Disciple rose to his feet, cracking his thick knuckles. The sound was like snapping tree branches. He was built like a mountain, his uniform straining against the sheer, condensed mass of his muscles.

  "I'll show you how wide the gap is between realms," the brute rumbled, stepping confidently into the open space between the tables. "Do not be ashamed when you lose. It is only natural that you fall to someone from the Han Family."

  He dropped into a grounded, heavy martial stance, a condescending grin stretching across his rugged face. "I'll end this in three moves. Don't worry, you won't die. I'll hold back just enough so you only end up with a few bruises."

  Xia watched him, dropping into a loose, entirely unorthodox stance of her own. A wide, mischievous grin split her face, her green eyes glinting with pure, unadulterated battle-lust.

  "Hahaha!" Xia’s laughter rang clear across the tense dining hall. "Then I promise to cripple you! You'll never be able to touch martial arts again!"