Trial of Strength and Strategy

The hall fell silent as Xue Mor met Torra Zhen's gaze. The weight of the moment settled between them, unspoken but undeniable. This was not just a test—it was a declaration. If she failed, her father's proposal would lose all credibility, and the Ancient White Tiger Clan would remain neutral or, worse, refuse outright.

Torra Zhen's smile remained as he finally spoke. "Your test will be twofold. First, you will face Shinryu in combat. But brute strength alone does not determine a leader." He gestured toward a large map on the table before him. "Afterward, you will be given a scenario—one that will test your ability to navigate war itself."

Xue Mor nodded, unfazed. "I accept."

Shinryu exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Looks like I'm in for a fight after all." He smirked, his silver hair shifting as he stepped forward. "Don't hold back, Xue Mor. If you do, I'll crush you."

Xue Mor smirked. "Funny. I was about to say the same thing."

—

The Trial of Strength

The training grounds of the Ancient White Tiger Clan were carved into the mountain itself, a vast open space surrounded by towering cliffs. Warriors gathered around as Xue Mor and Shinryu took their positions, the anticipation thick in the air.

Torra Zhen stood at the edge of the arena. "The fight will end when one of you yields or is unable to continue."

Shinryu flexed his fingers, his Death Arms—white leather gloves with retractable claws—forming around his hands. Golden markings along his jawline glowed faintly, a sign of his connection to the Celestial Tiger's blessing.

Xue Mor reached behind her, drawing her Death Arms—twin needle-like daggers attached to nearly invisible wire. The cold air around her shifted, frost forming at her feet.

"Begin."

Shinryu moved first. He was fast—faster than most—but Xue Mor had expected that. He closed the distance in a blink, his claws slashing in a diagonal arc.

Too direct.

Xue Mor twisted her body, dodging with minimal movement, her daggers flashing as she countered. Shinryu barely avoided the slicing wires that followed, flipping backward and landing gracefully.

He grinned. "Not bad."

Xue Mor didn't reply. She lifted her hand, and in an instant, the ground beneath Shinryu's feet was coated in ice. His stance shifted as he adapted, but she had already moved. A flick of her wrist sent her wires snaking toward him, aiming to entangle his limbs.

Shinryu responded with raw force. A burst of golden energy shattered the ice, his claws glowing as he lunged again, his strikes coming faster. Xue Mor deflected with calculated movements, keeping just out of reach, forcing him to expend more energy.

Minutes passed. The fight became a dance of speed and precision—one testing raw power, the other testing control.

Then, Shinryu made a mistake.

He overcommitted on a strike, and in that moment, Xue Mor struck. Her wire looped around his wrist, yanking him forward as she spun, her dagger pressing lightly against his throat.

The crowd tensed.

Torra Zhen raised a hand. "Enough."

Xue Mor stepped back, releasing the wire. Shinryu exhaled, rubbing his neck. Then he grinned. "Clever."

Torra Zhen nodded approvingly. "You fought with restraint and control. Now let's see if you can think beyond the battlefield."

—

The Trial of Strategy

Back inside the clan hall, Xue Mor stood before the large map table. Before her was a strategic puzzle: a battlefield scenario crafted by the Ancient White Tiger Clan's war council. Tokens representing armies, terrain, and resources lay across the board.

Torra Zhen sat across from her, arms crossed. "The Phoenix Cry Empire controls this region," he gestured to the center of the map, "but enemy forces from multiple factions are converging. You have limited troops, dwindling supplies, and no reinforcements."

Xue Mor studied the map. The enemy forces were spread thin, but their numbers were overwhelming. A direct confrontation would lead to defeat.

She picked up a token, representing a scout unit. "I would feint a retreat, drawing their forces deeper into our territory." She moved another piece. "Then, using the terrain, I'd launch ambushes, cutting their supply lines and forcing them into smaller skirmishes where their numbers are meaningless."

Torra Zhen stroked his beard, intrigued. "And if they refuse to chase?"

Xue Mor tapped the map. "Then I send false reports—make them think they have an easy victory. Let them get comfortable. When their guard drops, we strike decisively."

The room was silent. Then, Torra Zhen laughed.

"You think like a predator." He leaned forward. "You understand that war is not about who has the strongest sword, but who controls the battlefield."

Xue Mor met his gaze. "So? Do I pass your test?"

Torra Zhen's smile faded into something more serious. "You have my support."

The hall murmured with approval.

Shinryu crossed his arms, smirking. "Well, looks like we're working together now."

Torra Zhen exhaled. "But know this, Xue Mor. My clan does not take orders—we move as equals. The moment your father oversteps, we walk away."

Xue Mor nodded. "That is the agreement I intended."

Torra Zhen stood. "Then it is settled. The Ancient White Tiger Clan will stand beside the Phoenix Cry Empire… but now comes the hard part."

Shinryu's smirk widened. "Convincing Shin Rai."

Xue Mor let out a slow breath. One battle won. Another just beginning.