Riven Arclow stood once more at the edge of the arena, his back straight, his saber at rest.
Moments earlier, he had claimed a swift and absolute victory over Zhao Ziling, the final fighter from the merchant-backed faction. The match had ended cleanly—no blood drawn, yet no doubt left.
Now, as Riven returned to his formation, the crowd erupted. Cheers echoed through the clearing, disciples from both factions shouting his name.
Kael remained beneath the trees, arms folded. He had watched the entire match in silence. Not because he was unimpressed—but because he understood what it meant.
This wasn't just a match. This was a message.
Beside him, Little Abacus grinned like a child at a festival. "I told you! Riven's a monster. The Iron Gale! That saber isn't just fast—it's alive. No one that age should move like that."
Kael gave a small nod. "What's his background?"
"Oh, you've got to hear this." Little Abacus's voice lowered. "He joined four years ago, just like the rest of us. But unlike most, he didn't pass the entrance test. Barely made it in as a record-keeper."
"And now?"
"Now? Now he's a legend. Every duel, every test, every mission—he wins. With style. There's a rumor that some elders are prepping him for the Seven Pinnacles Summit. Others think he might get pulled into the Celestbound Guard early."
Kael's eyes drifted back to the arena. The match was over. The victors were celebrating. But Kael noticed something else.
No instructors.
No senior disciples.
Not even an outer sect elder.
He turned to Abacus. "Why aren't any seniors watching?"
Abacus hesitated. "They are. Just not here."
"Then why allow it?"
"Because they want to see. Who leads. Who inspires. Who commands. Without authority, without title. It's a trial within the trial."
Kael didn't respond.
He already knew.
This wasn't just an exhibition of martial prowess. This was the sect peeling back its layers, testing its future.
And Riven had just carved his name into that future.
As the crowd chanted, Kael turned away, silent.
To others, it was victory.
To him, it was foreshadowing.