The wind was sharp in the imperial capital. Unlike the wild breezes of the Azure Feather Sect's mountains, the air here carried the scent of iron and smoke—metal from forges, smoke from chimneys, and something else… tension, brewing beneath the polished surface.
Kael stood on the edge of a vast courtyard outside the Imperial Cultivation Hall, where banners of crimson and gold fluttered under the overcast sky. Dozens of disciples, nobles, and cultivators from every corner of the empire had gathered for the annual Trials of Ascension—a high-stakes event that allowed unknown talents to earn imperial favor, sect recognition, or advancement into powerful inner circles.
He blended in, outwardly unremarkable. But even now, whispers followed him.
"Isn't that the one who defeated a core disciple with a single strike?"
"They say he used some forbidden technique."
"No. They say… he didn't use anything."
Kael ignored the noise. Lin stood nearby, wearing the silver robes of the Azure Feather delegation. She hadn't said much since they entered the capital, but her presence beside him spoke volumes. She stayed close—too close for someone still claiming not to care.
"Remember," she murmured, "the capital isn't like the sect. People here are sharper. Crueler."
Kael nodded. "And hungrier."
Their conversation broke as an imperial steward descended the central steps of the hall.
"Participants! Step forward. Registration begins now. No aliases. No disguises. Show your cultivation."
The cultivators lined up. One by one, they were asked to channel a wisp of qi into an imperial mirror—a sacred artifact that revealed not just a person's realm, but also their resonance, aptitude, and the nature of their energy.
Kael's turn came.
A few sect elders shifted in their seats. "Let's see if the rumors are true…"
He stepped forward, calm as always.
"Name?" the steward asked.
"Kael."
"Affiliation?"
"Azure Feather Sect, outer division."
Snickers rippled through the line.
The steward's lip curled. "Place your palm on the mirror."
Kael did.
Nothing happened.
The mirror flickered once, then went dark. No resonance. No glow. No realm revealed.
The steward frowned. "Malfunction?" He checked the artifact. "Try again."
Kael did. Again, no response.
A silence settled over the courtyard, uneasy.
"That's impossible…" an elder whispered.
"Not even Qi Condensation? Is he crippled?"
Lin tensed beside him.
Kael stepped back, unaffected. "Does that disqualify me?"
The steward glanced at the imperial judge—a cold-eyed woman in black armor.
She shrugged. "Let him proceed. Some tricks don't reveal themselves in light."
Kael bowed and moved to the side. A few more cultivators stepped forward, but the atmosphere had shifted. He had become the mystery. The void no one could read.
That night, Kael sat atop a quiet rooftop in the western district. Below, the city buzzed with anticipation for the coming trials.
"Kael."
He turned. Lin stood behind him, her hair loose in the wind.
"You hid your cultivation… again."
"I never said I wouldn't."
She sat beside him, her expression unreadable.
"Do you think you can win against all of them while staying hidden?"
"I don't need to win," he said softly. "I need to last."
A beat of silence.
"But why? What's your end goal?"
Kael didn't answer. Not directly. Instead, he handed her a jade slip.
"What's this?"
"A pill formula. Advanced. Rare. I saw your injuries from our last mission—you're not healing properly. This might help."
Lin blinked. "You refined this?"
He nodded.
"But… this is master-level alchemy. No one in our sect knows this grade…"
Kael looked away. "Don't tell anyone."
She stared at him, shaken. "Who are you, Kael?"
He stood, brushing dust from his robes.
"I'm just someone who listens more than he speaks."
The Trials began the next morning.
Hundreds of participants gathered in the imperial arena, surrounded by tall obsidian walls and guarded by gold-armored cultivators of the Emperor's Guard. Elders from multiple sects watched from elevated pavilions. Each participant would face two rounds: one for combat, another for strategy. Victory in both earned entry into the elite training program under imperial guidance.
Kael was placed in the second combat bracket.
The first matches were brutal. Swords clashed, qi explosions shook the stadium, and blood sometimes soaked the sand. No one held back. This wasn't a friendly sect spar—it was a battlefield of ambition.
When Kael's name was called, the crowd leaned forward.
"Opponent: Liu Shen, peak Foundation Realm."
A bulky man stepped into the ring, muscles bulging, flames swirling around his fists. He sneered at Kael.
"Did they throw a sheep into the lion's den? Don't blink, boy."
Kael stepped in, relaxed. "Let's not waste time."
The gong sounded.
Shen exploded forward, his flames roaring. He aimed a direct punch toward Kael's chest.
Kael didn't dodge.
At the last second, his foot pivoted. He turned with the blow, letting it pass, and struck Shen's wrist with two fingers.
Snap.
The crowd heard it—bone breaking clean.
Shen howled, but Kael was already behind him. A swift strike to the pressure point at his neck, and the man collapsed.
Silence.
Then cheers. Confused. Awed.
"Was that… internal movement art?"
"No way—did you see his steps? That's beyond Foundation…"
"He shattered a peak realm cultivator's wrist with just two fingers!"
The imperial judges leaned in, intrigued.
One of them—an elder from the Crimson Lotus Sect—turned to another. "Find out everything about this Kael."
Back in the waiting chamber, Lin approached him again. Her eyes narrowed, intense.
"I watched. That movement—Cloudless Vale style. Forbidden."
Kael didn't deny it.
"You could be executed for using such a thing in the capital."
"I used what I needed."
She sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. "You're playing a dangerous game."
"I know."
"But you're good at it," she added, voice quieter.
Their eyes locked—for the first time, without the usual distance. A flicker of something unspoken passed between them.
But before anything else could be said, a bell rang.
Round two: strategy trial.
Kael stood. "Time to move the board again."