The dawn of the next day painted the Verdant Sword Sect in golden and orange tones.
The gigantic trees that blended with the constructions cast long shadows over the almost hidden buildings.
The atmosphere of the sect, even in the morning, seed more restless than usual, heavy. And above all, filled with expectation.
On this day, the entire inner sect was awaiting a single event.
The battle was between the already recognized Mo Tianhai and Kyrian, the new direct disciple whom the vast majority only knew by na.
In the silent courtyard where Kyrian was, the calm contrasted with the bustle occurring in the sect.
He had awakened before the sun rose and then sat in the center of his courtyard. Legs crossed, the sword resting upon his knees.
His eyes were closed, breathing slowly, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm.
Kyrian had learned a breathing technique from Feng Yuan, and although it had no effect on him, Kyrian learned it with ease, and it was perfect for calming the mind.
He was, in truth, slightly bored. Now he had to wait about fifteen days before cultivating again.
The morning wind passed through the leaves of the trees, making a natural soft sound. But as it touched him, it seed like several blades trying to pierce him. Instead of the slight uncomfortable sensation, now it felt extrely comfortable to him.
The wind seed to align with his breathing. And it was at that mont that his eyes opened. The green brilliance in his gaze flickered like sharp blades.
The sword-shaped irises reflected on his sword below, forged by old Wang.
Kyrian then raised his hand, running his finger across the blade.
"Only the sword..."
Kyrian knew that the battle would be raw. Nothing hidden, nothing disguised, only the direct clash of experiences and understandings.
There was no fear on his face, but, in truth, a spark of expectation. After today, those with doubts should leave them behind.
And then no one would care to bother him.
In another courtyard of the central disciples, Mo Tianhai was already adjusting his dark-green robe as he descended the steps of his courtyard. The robe was the sa color as the elders’, but the difference lay in the details.
He had already trained lightly before the sun rose, performing hundreds of thrusts against the empty air. A training he had done daily for several years, whether sun or rain.
His arms were already accustod to the effort, and his eyes were more burning than ever.
He set out toward the inner sect. His expression was colder than usual, his features hard, and his presence made the inner disciples on his path avert their gaze.
He walked while his hand rested firmly on the hilt of his sword.
As he walked through the inner area, the conversations rose to his ears like inevitable echoes.
"Did you hear? Mo Tianhai challenged Kyrian, and he actually accepted."
"Who in their right mind thinks Kyrian can win?"
"And why couldn’t he? He was chosen by the leader for so reason. Besides, just his presence makes swords tremble."
"Nonsense. His cultivation is extrely low, how would he stand a chance against the central disciples?"
The voices reached Tianhai’s ears like fuel.
Every word sounding like doubt of his victory and not certainty truly irritated him. It reinforced his anger even more.
He walked quickly, his figure cutting through the crowd. Wherever he passed, disciples looked and stopped to observe. So bowed slightly in respect, others rely whispered.
Tianhai, as he drew closer to the arena, clenched his fists even tighter, for this was more than a duel. It was the chance to crush Kyrian in front of everyone, to show the leader that he had made a mistake.
The main arena of the inner area rose at the heart of the inner sect.
It was a wide circular space, made of stone, surrounded by natural bleachers carved into the surrounding stone mountains.
It was early morning, but every seat was already taken. Almost all the inner disciples were there, others arriving and remaining standing nearby to watch.
Even so curious elders hid where the disciples could not sense them.
The rumor had indeed spread like fire, and no one wanted to miss it.
A collective roar swept through the place when Mo Tianhai finally arrived.
Without wasting ti, his imposing figure, to many, advanced straight to the center of the arena, his robe swaying with the wind and his sword firm at his side.
The look he cast upon the bleachers was icy, slightly silencing the confusion.
"It’s Mo Tianhai."
"He’s really angry, I fear he won’t hold back."
"Heh! It will truly be humiliating if Kyrian loses right in the first days after becoming a direct disciple."
The conversations echoed again. But Mo Tianhai paid no attention. His eyes fixed only on the opposite entrance. Waiting.
And then, after what seed like an hour, Kyrian appeared, walking calmly.
His black hair swayed gently. There was no haste, no arrogance. Only a strange tranquility.
Silence fell, and all gazes turned to him.
And as always, beyond his hypnotizing beauty to so, what drew everyone’s attention were his eyes.
They caught attention imdiately. The eyes with sword-shaped irises shone faintly.
"It’s true..."
"He really does possess a special physique."
"Whatever, he’ll fight Mo Tianhai, it won’t help at all."
Kyrian did not respond or care about anything. He only walked to the center of the arena, stopping in front of his opponent.
Their gazes crossed, neither of them blinking.
Then a figure suddenly appeared in the arena. i Ran appeared in everyone’s sight.
She landed lightly in the center of the arena, her presence making the crowd’s murmur cease completely. Her eyes analyzed the two like a blade.
She then raised her hand, and her voice rang clear.
"This duel will be conducted under the sect’s rules."
"The use of techniques will not be permitted, nor will the use of Qi."
"Only your swords will speak for you. Only your comprehension and experience on the path of the sword will decide the winner."
A murmur swept the bleachers, but it was silenced with a single look from the elder.
She turned to Mo Tianhai first.
"Do you accept the conditions?"
He raised his chin with a smile, his voice laden with confidence.
"I accept."
Then, she looked at Kyrian.
His green eyes seed to grow sharper by the second.
"I accept."
Silence fell once more.
i Ran raised an arm.
"Then, let your swords speak."
The two drew their swords at the sa ti, with the tallic sound echoing in everyone’s mind.
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