Chapter 47: Watching the Tigers Fight

In the dim ruins of an old library annex, Kai sat cross-legged in the shadows, a flickering oil lamp casting soft light across scattered parchment, ink stones, and small bundles of sealed scrolls. The fortress was alive with tension. The halls above buzzed with the weight of suspicion and quiet fear. Crimson Hall's guards sharpened blades instead of meditating. Shadow Hall agents whispered only to each other. Enforcement Hall remained silent, its strength coiled like a viper under frost.

Kai's lips curved into a faint smile.

It was time to stir the hornet nest.

He dipped a brush into ink and penned the final touches of a letter on a parchment. The handwriting matched that of a known Shadow Hall operative, he'd spent hours mimicking it, practicing the slight curve of characters and the jagged strike at the end of certain strokes. Ha, my skills as a librarian finally put to good use!

The contents were simple:

"The poison is prepared. We strike the Crimson Wolf at tomorrow's banquet. Make sure the distraction keeps the southern gate guards occupied."

He folded the parchment, sealed it with a false Shadow Hall sigil, and handed it to Shen Rui, who stood in the doorway with a cautious expression.

"Slip this into the hands of Elder Huo's inner circle," Kai instructed. "Don't speak. Don't explain. Just let it fall into place."

Shen took the scroll and tucked it into his sleeve. "I shall do as you have requested."

Over the next three nights, Kai moved like a phantom through the Sect fortress.

He planted forged letters implicating Elder Pu, the leader of Shadow Hall, in a plot to assassinate Zhou Min, the second-in-command of Crimson Hall and Huo's most trusted lieutenant. The forged correspondence referenced long-standing grievances, misinterpreted meetings, and subtle betrayals that never happened but would seem plausible to a paranoid mind like Huo's.

He arranged for a mock assassination attempt to take place during a Crimson Hall guard shift. The attacker, one of Shen Rui's most trusted men, was cloaked and used an obscure Shadow Hall assassination technique the Whispering Palm, a Qi-infused blow that left no external wound by rupturing the organs from within.

The target, Zhou Min, survived. Barely.

And when the guards found a black dagger, Shadow Hall's calling card, embedded near the gatepost, it was all the proof they needed.

Huo exploded.

Within hours, Crimson Hall doubled patrols. Trusted servants were interrogated. Several junior members of Shadow Hall disappeared without explanation, some never returned.

Behind it all, Kai watched silently from the shadows.

"Let them fight. I'll sit on the mountain and watch the tigers tear each other apart."

Shen Rui and his small network of loyal envoys moved like crows in the mist, delivering Kai's carefully crafted rumors, "anonymous" tips, and quiet guidance to key enforcers who mainained their loyalty under Elder Kong of Enforcement Hall.

Kai never revealed himself.

Even to the enforcers, his identity was cloaked in implication, only trusted agents bore his seal, a half-moon emblem carved onto jade slivers. They delivered his orders in silence.

By the end of the fifth day, Enforcement Hall had quietly repositioned its forces to protect strategic assets, the inner sanctum and the supply vaults. Without drawing attention, they had become the fortress's spine again.

That night, Zhao Xun, Kai's most problematic follower crept through the shadows toward his master's chamber. He halted upon seeing Kai deep in conversation with Shen Rui, their tones hushed but intense. Rather than interrupt, the ghoul lingered in the corridor, patient as ever.

When the discussion concluded, Zhao Xun stepped forward. "Master," he said softly, eyes gleaming with anticipation, "I've uncovered something… interesting."

Kai turned, weariness etched into his features, sleepless nights attending to pressing matters had taken a toll on him. Still, Kai offered a nod.

"Well done, Zhao Xun," he gave a weary smile.

Then his gaze sharpened. "All the pieces are in place now," he said, voice low with conviction. "All that's left… is the waiting game."

The seed of distrust between Shadow Hall and Crimson Hall began to fester, quietly at first—then with venom.

Shadow Hall accused their crimson-clad counterparts of overstepping boundaries, hoarding cultivation resources meant to be shared across the Sect. Crimson Hall responded with iron-fisted arrogance, forcefully claiming three once-neutral meditation pavilions as their own. The air within the fortress thickened with suspicion.

Whispers turned to stares. Stares turned to scuffles.

Low-ranking disciples brawled in courtyards over rationed spirit herbs. Training barracks echoed with the clash of steel not meant for practice. 

Until one night where everything unraveled.

The inner gates erupted in combat. Qi clashed with steel as disciples turned on each other. Halls once meant for practice became battlegrounds. Tower windows shattered as cultivators hurled one another through stone. Flames burst from alchemy labs. Screams echoed through corridors.

And at the heart of it Elder Huo and Elder Pu were facing one another in the grand courtyard.

Elder Huo stood like a war god, bare-chested, hair wild, a flame-touched halberd in hand. His Qi burned like a forest fire—raw and untamed.

Across from him, Elder Pu floated inches above the ground, shrouded in black silk that writhed like smoke. Her face was serene, eyes like cold jade. Poison and shadow coiled around her fingers.

"You snake-hearted vermin," Huo spat, "I knew you were plotting against me!"

"And yet you're still surprised," Erniang murmured, her voice like silk over steel. "Perhaps you should spend more time thinking and less shouting."

They clashed and the earth trembled.

Huo's Qi-infused halberd swept with terrifying might, his fiery techniques splitting the stone with each strike. Erniang weaved like smoke, countering with blades of shadow Qi and bursts of paralytic mist. She moved like a ghost, untouchable—until Huo's temper flared and he began setting the very air alight.

Their battle raged for what felt like hours, until both were heaving, bloodied, and scorched. The ground between them was cratered and broken.

They were near collapse.

Then a wind shifted.

A dark figure descended into the courtyard like a shadow falling from the sky.