The strategy hall was nothing like the combat arena. It was quieter. Hushed. Intense.
Massive jade screens floated in the air above the central chamber, projecting illusory battlefields while dozens of cultivators stood at the edges, watching. Each participant would face a randomized challenge—military, political, or spiritual. Each would be judged not by strength, but intellect.
And now, Kael stood beneath those floating screens.
Lin was in the observation gallery, her fingers tightly clenched. Even after everything she'd seen—Kael's strange alchemical prowess, his impossible movements, the mirror refusing to register his realm—this part still had her most on edge.
"Participant: Kael of the Azure Feather Sect," a voice echoed.
"Scenario: Border skirmish. The Northern Barrens. Your sect holds one fort. The enemy holds three. You have fewer troops, no reinforcements, and only one known passage through the canyons. Objective: Survive seven days or force retreat."
Kael's screen lit up, a full tactical map appearing before him. Time began to count down.
A whisper from the elders' gallery: "This scenario was designed to eliminate overconfident fools. Most don't last past Day 3."
Kael studied the battlefield, his eyes moving slowly. Carefully.
Three enemy forts. One friendly. A narrow canyon. The obvious answer would be to defend the fort and dig in—but it was a trap. The enemy would siege and starve them out.
So Kael didn't choose the obvious.
He abandoned the fort.
Gasps echoed across the chamber.
"What's he doing?"
"He gave up the only defensible position!"
But Kael had seen something: a secondary ridge, unmarked on the map but hinted by the terrain's elevation contours. An old passage, overgrown, forgotten.
He sent his troops there—left decoys at the fort—and then launched a feint ambush from behind the enemy's own supply line.
On Day 4, he used terrain illusions to mislead scouts.
On Day 5, he created false trails to suggest reinforcements were coming from the east.
On Day 6, he set fire to the canyon trees, forcing the enemy into the open.
By Day 7, the opposing army withdrew.
Not because they were defeated in battle… but because Kael had made them believe they had already lost.
The projection faded. The hall was dead silent.
Then the judges began to murmur.
"A flawless retreat scenario, executed without direct conflict…"
"He manipulated morale. That's not just strategy. That's warfare mastery."
The woman in black armor from the previous test stood. "Mark his record. Highest score in this bracket."
Kael bowed slightly and stepped back. He could feel eyes burning into his back—not just from the elders, but from the other participants.
One in particular: a youth dressed in golden robes with a hawk-shaped crest on his chest.
Kael met his gaze. The youth smiled—but it was sharp. Measured. Dangerous.
"You're clever," the man said in a low voice, approaching Kael in the corridor afterward. "But cleverness without backing… is suicide in this city."
Kael said nothing.
The man leaned closer. "I'm Yun Zhi. Second prince of the empire."
Kael didn't flinch.
Yun Zhi narrowed his eyes. "You're not from a noble clan. Not from an inner sect. And yet you're here. Which means you're either a pawn—"
"Or a shadow," Kael finished calmly.
Yun Zhi paused.
"Be careful, Kael of the Azure Feather Sect. The capital doesn't reward ghosts. It buries them."
He walked away.
Lin appeared a moment later, having witnessed the exchange. "You just made a powerful enemy."
"I didn't speak first," Kael replied. "He came to me."
Lin shook her head. "The second prince is known for eliminating threats early. And you? You're now a threat."
Kael turned toward the setting sun. "Then let's make sure I'm a threat worth fearing."
That evening, Kael returned to his temporary quarters within the outer ring of the Imperial Academy. The stone courtyard was empty, save for a quiet girl waiting at the steps.
She was beautiful in an understated way—slender, with storm-colored eyes and a sword at her back.
"You're Kael?"
"Yes."
She bowed. "My name is Yan Mei. I'm from the Cloudless Vale."
Kael's eyes sharpened.
That was the same sect whose forbidden movement art he'd used in the Trials.
"I've been watching you," she said simply. "And I know you've mastered one of our techniques."
He said nothing.
"But," she continued, "you used it better than most of our inner disciples. And without disgrace. That interests me."
She walked past him and placed a scroll on the bench.
"Consider this a gesture. Read it. You'll understand."
Then she left, not waiting for his answer.
Kael opened the scroll after a long pause. It wasn't a threat—it was an invitation.
To a secret gathering. Midnight. Within the ruins of the Old Library in the Shadow Quarter.
Beneath the signature was a symbol: half-moon over a dagger.
Kael recognized it.
The Circle of the Hidden Flame—a rogue network of cultivators and exiles who shared forbidden knowledge, challenged orthodox power… and occasionally burned empires from within.
Kael smiled to himself.
"Interesting."