The medic tent smelled of crushed herbs and dried blood. Pale lanterns hung from above, swaying slightly in the breeze as the night deepened around the camp.
Ash lay still on the cot, wrapped in spiritual bandages, his chest rising and falling slowly. His skin was pale, and every inch of him screamed with damage—but he was alive.
And the word had spread.
"He killed the Golden Bone Ape."
Disciples came in groups—some quietly offering fruit or flowers; others simply peeking in to see the one who did the impossible.
Unwelcome Attention
A pair of girls from another team entered the tent, whispering between themselves.
"He's the one? He doesn't even look that strong…"
"You didn't see him fight. Like a madman on fire."
They left a small tray of spirit-warming soup and bowed before stepping out, giggling as they walked.
Two more came after. Then another.
And all the while—Lian Rou and Yan Qing watched from across the camp, standing behind a tree.
Yan Qing's arms were crossed. Her lips were pressed into a tight line.
"Look at them. Like moths to a flame."
Lian Rou raised an eyebrow. "You're jealous."
Yan Qing scoffed. "Jealous? I just think they're being too obvious."
But her glare lingered.
Lian Rou smirked slightly. "That's not an answer."
A pause.
"Fine," Yan Qing said, finally. "Maybe I am. A capable man is always… desired."
Lian Rou blinked at the honesty.
"My grandmother told me that," Yan Qing continued. "She said women with strong bloodlines must seek warriors with strong spines—even if their roots aren't noble."
Then she turned to Lian Rou, eyes sharp.
"What about royal lineages like yours? Do they care about capability—or just the bloodline?"
Lian Rou looked away, silent for a moment.
The night wind stirred her hair as she answered quietly:
"It's… complicated."
The Weight of Legacy
Lian Rou didn't elaborate.
Because how could she explain that her family had years of arranged marriages with noble sons, most of whom couldn't fight their way out of a sparring ring?
That her status chained her, even as her instincts screamed that Ash was different?
"He's dangerous," she finally said. "Not because of what he's done. But because… I don't understand him."
Yan Qing tilted her head. "Maybe that's why you're watching him so closely."
Lian Rou didn't answer. They stood together in silence, staring at the light flickering from inside the tent.
Inside the Tent – A Flicker of Consciousness
Ash stirred.
His fingers twitched, and his breathing hitched slightly.
Shen Mu's voice echoed faintly within.
"They're watching you, boy. The world's eyes are turning."
Ash didn't wake yet—but somewhere deep in his spirit, the Obsidian Throne pulsed again, gaining shape. A faint silhouette now sat upon it—unmoving, waiting.
Closing Scene – The Storm Gathers
Outside the camp, far beyond the forest, within the gilded halls of a major sect headquarters, an elder received the report.
"Ash… direct disciple… Qi Condensation… defeated Tier 5."
He closed the scroll.
"Summon the Shadow Mirror Pavilion," he said.
"Someone like him doesn't rise from nothing. And those eyes—they've seen more than they should."
Far above, in the Upper Realm, a corrupted sect elder chuckled softly as another message arrived.
"So the necromancer's heir breathes after all…"