The sect buzzed with noise, alive with excitement as the Mist Festival prepared to kick off. Cheers erupted from every corner, laughter filled the air, and the atmosphere crackled with celebration. Elders from the second dojo called out recommendations for their disciples in the first dojo, praising their talents and predicting victories. Senior members exchanged bets, tossing coins into small piles as they debated who would bring back the rarest treasure. Everywhere Kale looked, there was energy—joy, rivalry, and anticipation.
But Kale only watched, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. Last night had been a revelation, a quiet triumph that no one else knew about. He had already gleaned the necessary knowledge to navigate the wilderness, fight if needed, and survive whatever challenges lay ahead. Now, his goal was clear: find the rare flower that bloomed under the light of the full moon. It wasn't just any flower—it was said to possess magical properties, coveted by alchemists and mages alike. But timing was key. The flower would only bloom atop a high mountain peak when the full moon reached its zenith in the sky. Until then, patience was his ally.
The announcer stepped onto the stage, silencing the crowd with a wave of his hand. All eyes turned toward him—and more importantly, to the figure standing beside him. She was a member of the third dojo, an elder whose power radiated like a storm waiting to break. Her presence alone commanded respect, her aura so overwhelming it felt as though she carried the weight of a mountain on her shoulders. Wrinkles lined her face, evidence of decades spent traversing the Deep Currents, mastering knowledge most could only dream of accessing.
Kale couldn't help but smile faintly at the sight. This, he thought, is what true mastery looks like. This is a mage—a person who has walked through the depths of the Ocean of Knowledge and emerged stronger, wiser, and untouchable.
The Grand Elder raised his staff, the crystal embedded in its tip glowing softly. "This festival," he began, his voice carrying over the gathered crowd, "is not merely a competition for glory or riches. It is a trial—an opportunity for each of you to push your limits, enhance your abilities, and grow stronger for the sake of our sect. Only through challenge can we rise above ourselves."
His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he declared, "Let the festival… BEGIN!"
Cheers erupted once again, shaking the very ground beneath their feet. Sect members surged forward, eager to begin their quests, while others lingered briefly to strategize or boast one last time. Kale stayed where he was, watching silently as the chaos unfolded around him. He didn't need to rush. His plan was simple: wait for the full moon, climb the highest peak, and claim the flower.
For now, all he had to do was step into the fray—and disappear into the mist.