The Hierarchy of Power

The Draconic Sect wasn't just a place where the strong gathered—it was a fortress of power, prestige, and deadly secrets. Anyone who entered knew one thing: survival wasn't guaranteed.

Draven stood at the massive gates of the Draconic Sect, his expression as cold as ever. Towering stone dragons coiled around the gate, their eyes glowing with a faint, mystical light. Beyond the gates lay the sprawling sect grounds, a maze of buildings, training areas, and ancient halls where legends were born and weaklings were discarded.

"Welcome to the Draconic Sect," a voice came from behind him.

Draven turned slightly, his crimson eyes narrowing as he recognized the figure approaching—Kara. Her expression was neutral, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes.

She had bested him in the duel, but he wasn't concerned with that now.

"This place," Kara continued, glancing around with a slight smirk, "is where the real training begins. And trust me, not everyone makes it."

Draven's gaze drifted back to the towering structures in front of him. The air here felt different, thicker, almost suffocating with power. Dragons, real dragons, flew overhead, their scales gleaming in the sunlight.

Their roars echoed through the sky, a constant reminder of the sect's dominance over this world.

Kara stepped closer, her voice lowering. "You've made it as an Outer Disciple, but that's the bottom rung. You'll need to work your way up if you want to survive here."

The Draconic Sect was divided into three ranks of disciples: Outer Disciple,Inner Disciple,and the elite Core Disciple.Each rank determined your standing within the sect—and how much you mattered.

Outer Disciples like Draven were the lowest. They handled menial tasks, from cleaning the dragon stables to maintaining the training grounds. Their cultivation resources were limited, and most would never rise above this rank. Failure was common, and those who couldn't keep up… disappeared.

Inner Disciples, on the other hand, had proven their worth. They trained under the sect's elders, received better resources, and were given more dangerous missions outside the sect.

They had access to powerful cultivation techniques and were the true strength of the sect's fighting force.

Then there were the Core Disciples—the chosen few who stood at the peak of the sect's younger generation. They trained directly under the Sect Leader and Vice Sect Leaders.

Their strength was unmatched, and their potential was limitless. Core Disciples were destined to become the future leaders of the sect, or at the very least, its most feared warriors.

"Your goal," Kara said, breaking Draven's thoughts, "is to survive long enough to become an Inner Disciple. Then, if you're lucky—or ruthless—you might just become a Core Disciple."

Draven didn't respond. He wasn't interested in luck. He would carve his own path, just like he always had.

...

As they walked through the sect grounds, Kara explained the daily duties of the Outer Disciples.

Every morning, they were expected to attend training in the sect's martial arts hall, where they would practice basic sword techniques, body tempering exercises, and qi manipulation.

"Training starts at dawn," Kara continued. "Miss a session, and you'll be punished. Fail too many times, and you'll be expelled. Or worse."

Draven raised an eyebrow. "Worse?"

Kara smirked. "This sect has no patience for the weak. Those who fail to meet expectations are… dealt with. Sometimes they're sent on impossible missions. Other times, they simply vanish."

As they passed a group of Outer Disciples sparring in one of the courtyards, Draven noticed the harsh discipline in the sect. Every movement was scrutinized. Every mistake was punished.

"You'll also be assigned tasks outside of training," Kara added. "Things like gathering herbs from the mountains, hunting beasts for materials, and even delivering messages to other sects. It's dangerous work, but it's a necessary part of your training."

.

.

Draven's silence didn't go unnoticed. Kara sighed and slowed her pace. "You're not much of a talker, are you?"

"I don't have time for idle chatter," Draven replied, his voice cold.

Kara chuckled. "Fine. Let me give you some background on where you've found yourself."

The Draconic Sect was one of the most powerful sects in the entire realm, known for its mastery of both swordsmanship and dragon cultivation.

Its origins stretched back thousands of years to the time of the Dragon Kings, ancient beings who ruled over the skies and controlled the elements.

It was said that the first Sect Leader of the Draconic Sect had tamed a dragon of legend, forging an unbreakable bond that allowed him to ascend to immortal realm.

Since then, the sect had cultivated both warriors and dragons, passing down the secrets of dragon taming and elemental manipulation through generations.

"Not that it matters to you," Kara said with a sly grin, "but the Draconic Sect is considered the ruler of this continent. No one dares to challenge them. And if you're smart, you won't either."

Draven glanced at her, his expression unreadable. He had no intention of challenging the sect—not yet, at least. But he knew that if he wanted power, real power, this was the place to get it.

Just as they reached the Outer Disciple quarters, a sect elder approached them. His eyes narrowed as he looked Draven over, his mouth curling into a sneer.

"You're the new recruit," the elder said. "Outer Disciple Draven, correct?"

Draven nodded silently, his gaze never leaving the elder's face.

"Good. You'll be accompanying a team to the Black mist Forest tomorrow. The sect needs more beast cores for cultivation, and you'll be gathering them. Make sure you bring back enough, or don't bother coming back at all."

Without waiting for a response, the elder turned and left, leaving a tense silence in his wake.

"Looks like they're already testing you," Kara muttered. "Black Mist Forest isn't exactly a welcoming place. If you're not careful, you'll be eaten alive by the spirit beasts that roam there."

Draven's cold eyes flickered with a faint glint of excitement. He welcomed the challenge. This would be his first real test as a disciple of the Draconic Sect, and he had no intention of failing....

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