A Silent War
The air was different.
Three days remained before the Trial of Strength, yet the sect already felt like a battlefield.
Disciples weren't just preparing. They were watching. Measuring. Choosing their targets.
Xian Ye walked through the Outer Sect training grounds, ignoring the hushed conversations and sharp glances in his direction. He could feel the shift—his name was spreading.
The fight in the ruins had been covered up, but rumors traveled faster than truth.
Someone had survived a battle in a forbidden place.
Someone had walked away unscathed.
Someone was stronger than they should be.
And now, they were looking at him.
It was exactly what the Inner Sect wanted.
"They're pushing you into the open."
Xian Ye clenched his jaw.
If they expected him to react, to show his strength before the trial, they would be disappointed.
This wasn't a fight he would win with brute force.
It was a silent war.
And he would play it his way.
The Challenge
A group of disciples had gathered around the central sparring arena, their voices filled with excitement.
Xian Ye ignored them—until a familiar name reached his ears.
"So, you're the famous Xian Ye?"
He stopped.
At the center of the training ground stood a disciple twice his size, a heavy iron staff resting against his shoulder. His robes bore the symbol of a Peak Outer Sect disciple—one step away from the Inner Sect.
His name was Feng Jiao.
"Hiding won't save you, you know."
Xian Ye remained silent.
Feng Jiao's smirk widened.
"The trial isn't for three days, but let's not pretend you'll make it that far. How about we settle it now?"
The surrounding disciples whispered excitedly. This was it—a chance to see if the rumors were true.
"If you're as strong as they say, you should have no problem."
Xian Ye understood exactly what this was.
It wasn't just a challenge.
It was a trap.
If he accepted, he would be forced to reveal his power in front of everyone.
If he refused, he would be labeled as weak, an easy target in the trial.
"They want me to make the first move."
Xian Ye exhaled slowly.
Then, he did something none of them expected.
He laughed.
A low chuckle, barely more than a breath.
"Settle it now?" He tilted his head, eyes cold. "You're worried you won't make it to the trial, Feng Jiao?"
The crowd reacted instantly, gasps and murmurs filling the air.
Feng Jiao's expression darkened.
"What did you just say?"
Xian Ye stepped forward, stopping just close enough for his presence to be felt.
"You wouldn't be this eager to fight unless you were afraid of what happens when we meet in the trial."
"So tell me—are you that desperate to take me out early?"
Feng Jiao's jaw tightened. He hadn't expected Xian Ye to turn the pressure back on him.
"I'll crush you here and now, coward."
Xian Ye smirked.
"Then wait three days and do it in front of the elders."
His words hung in the air.
By refusing the fight, he had done more than avoid the trap—he had forced Feng Jiao into a corner.
Now, if Feng Jiao attacked first, he would be seen as the one who broke discipline before the trial.
If he backed down, he would lose face in front of the sect.
There was no right answer.
For several tense seconds, Feng Jiao said nothing.
Then, with a sharp glare, he turned away.
"Tch. We'll see if you still have that smirk when you're crawling on the ground."
Xian Ye watched him leave, his smile never fading.
They wanted him to reveal his strength.
Instead, he had revealed their weakness.
A Voice in the Shadows
As Xian Ye left the training ground, he felt it again—the presence.
Someone was watching.
But this time, they weren't just observing.
They were waiting.
For a moment, the air shifted.
Then—a voice.
"Clever move."
Xian Ye's muscles tensed.
The voice came from above. From the shadows of the pagoda roof.
"But you do realize… this only buys you time."
Xian Ye didn't turn.
"Who are you?"
A soft chuckle.
"You already know, don't you?"
He did.
The silver-eyed disciple.