Ashen Sect (1)

After some time observing, Kyle mentally mapped his thoughts, forming a clear picture of the Ashen Sect's structural flaws: poor leadership, incompetent public presence, and an obvious lack of internal trust. Ironically, these flaws only increased the sect's value in his eyes. Joining would be effortless—they might even beg him to join just to boost their numbers.

Their biggest issue wasn't power—it was desperation. All they seemed to want was to increase their member count. That, however, wasn't necessarily a flaw.

A weak army of sheep led by a lion can defeat an army of lions led by a sheep.

It was an old saying. And in a way, Kyle believed it—leadership and vision could turn even the most pathetic group into a real force.

But that ideal didn't quite apply here.

Not in a society where status, power, and connections were everything. In this Academy, where students were evaluated on cold numbers and alignment, narratives didn't win wars—raw strength did. A lion couldn't drag sheep into battle if no one took them seriously. So while the saying had its charm, it wouldn't carry him far unless he had both strategy and results.

As Kyle pondered these thoughts, he failed to notice two things.

First: Eddie had just entered the training grounds.

Second: he had missed morning classes and breakfast entirely.

Eddie spotted Kyle immediately—it was impossible to miss him. He was the only student in the Academy with stark white hair, standing out even at a distance.

He approached slowly, his expression tight and serious, like someone who had just overcome a major internal conflict.

Stopping beside him, he spoke quietly:

"So you're really serious about joining a sect, I presume?"

Kyle didn't move. He recognised the voice and didn't feel the need to turn. His reply came in a flat, unaffected tone:

"Obviously."

Eddie glanced at the Ashen table, where the two timid students still sat, barely noticed by anyone. They looked fragile and uncertain—exactly the opposite of what most would look for in a faction.

"Well," Eddie said after a pause, "if your goal is to protect the weak by getting stronger, then I'll join you in doing so. And… which one are we joining? I assume you're done researching."

'That was fast,' Kyle thought, mildly surprised.

He had expected Eddie to resist for at least another day or two.

'Also, that's not my goal. I'm only doing this to protect myself. Defeating the Beast King is the major goal for the Kingdom. Getting strong to protect yourself and the ones you love is the goal in this Academy. Two different worlds and law in the same land. Quite ideal.'

A short grin crept onto his face.

"I knew you'd come around. In that case, we're joining the Ashen Sect—the weakest sect of them all."

Eddie nodded and made a move towards the table, but Kyle grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back.

"Not so fast. We wait for them to come to us."

"Eh?"

"And how do we do that?" Kyle asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Smart move,' Eddie thought inwardly.

Then, with confidence, he answered what he believed to be the "obvious" solution:

"We demonstrate combat prowess on the training field, so they'll be desperate to have us, yeah?"

Kyle stared at him blankly.

'That's the dumbest idea I've heard all week. He's definitely watched one too many secret agent films… idiot.'

He shook his head.

"Wrong." His voice was firm. "That'll attract attention—but not from them. The top sects will come for us instead. And then Ashen will hesitate. First, because they'll assume we're out of their league. Second, because they'll be scared of offending the bigger sects by competing."

Eddie blinked. "Ah…"

"So," Kyle continued, "we do nothing. We stand somewhere near them. Quiet. Unthreatening. On their level. That'll make it easier for them to approach us. They're desperate for numbers, and we'll look like we belong—just strong enough to interest them, not enough to scare them off."

Eddie chuckled and, with a playful smirk, reached out to ruffle Kyle's hair.

"Knew you were smart, but damn—this gives you extra points."

Kyle slowly turned to him with a deadpan expression of utter disgust, his sharp eyes sending a very clear message: Get your hands off my head.

Eddie immediately got the hint.

"Right, got it. No head-touching."

As the two boys stood within sight of the Ashen Sect's corner, Kyle casually leaned against a nearby marble pillar, while Eddie remained beside him, trying to seem as indifferent as possible, but occasionally stealing glances at the two seated students.

A few minutes passed.

Then, as expected, one of the Ashen recruiters stood up—the pale girl with short blonde hair. She took a deep breath and slowly walked towards them. Though her posture seemed fragile, her eyes carried a surprising clarity—like someone used to rejection but not broken by it.

She stopped a few paces in front of them, hesitated for just a second, then bowed politely.

"Um... excuse me."

Kyle turned his head lazily, barely acknowledging her at first.

"Yes?"

"I—" she began, then straightened up slightly, adjusting her collar. "I noticed you two weren't speaking with the other sects. I just thought... maybe you're still deciding. So I wanted to introduce our sect—Ashen—and ask if you'd consider joining us."

Eddie looked at her, surprised by how honest and soft-spoken she was. No flair. No overpromising. Just honesty.

Kyle, however, kept a neutral expression.

'Time to play a game of catch...' Kyle said inwardly.

"Ashen," he said slowly. "The sect everyone's avoiding?"

The girl didn't flinch. "Yes. We're aware of the reputation. That's why we're here, trying to change it."

"And you thought two random students might be the solution?" Kyle's tone was dry.

She clasped her hands together in front of her, clearly nervous, but pressed on.

"No, not the solution. But maybe... a part of the process. Look, I know what we look like. Weak. Small. New. And honestly, most of that is true. We don't have sponsors, we don't have flashy relics, and we don't have a Grade II prodigy leading us."

She paused. "But we do have room. Space to grow. And people who are tired of being overlooked."

Kyle narrowed his eyes, studying her. "You make it sound noble. But power wins here, not good intentions."

"I know." She nodded. "But power can come later. Intentions come first. And not everyone wants to be someone else's pawn in a big-name sect."

Kyle remained silent, the corners of his mouth tightening slightly, then loosening again—as if weighing whether to dismiss her or entertain her further.

He looked away deliberately. "We're not interested."

Her eyes dropped slightly. She looked hurt—but only for a moment.

'Huh? What does he mean~ Oh. A game of chess?' Eddie wondered.

"I understand," she said, turning slightly, preparing to leave.

But Eddie stepped forward.

"Wait," he said. "I want to join."

Kyle looked at him sideways.

"You sure?"

Eddie nodded. "You said it yourself—weak doesn't mean worthless. If we're going to grow somewhere, it might as well be from the bottom up. No politics. Just progress."

Kyle sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, "Emotional decision-making… always predictable."

The girl blinked.

"So, you're... reconsidering?"

Kyle stared at her for a moment, then gave the softest hint of a smile.

"We'll join."

The girl's eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Yes. But on one condition," Kyle said, stepping forward now with more weight in his presence. "I want to meet your Sect Leader. Before we commit to anything further."

There was a pause. She exchanged a glance with the dark-skinned boy still at the table, who gave a subtle nod.

"Alright," she said. "Follow me. I'll take you to our leader."

Eddie gave Kyle a light punch on the shoulder.

"That was smooth. You acted like you didn't care at all. Some real player you are, man."

"That was the point," Kyle replied coolly, eyes narrowing. "She showed honesty. That's rare. But I'm not here to be recruited—I'm here to understand who's leading this failure of a faction... and whether they're worth rebuilding."

Together, the two followed the girl past the edge of the training grounds, leaving behind the laughter, noise, and the mocking echoes of power.

"Watch it be some nerdy bloke in specs..."