Li stared, captivated by the conversation. He had no intention of leaving—not tonight. But then, two soft voices reached his ears. He turned to see two elder scholars approaching from a distance.
It was Assim and Moses, religious archivists who had spent their lifetime gathering and preserving centuries of wisdom and knowledge.
They spoke in hushed tones, their robes rustling faintly as they made their way toward the lit building where Zhang and the others spoke.
Li crouched deeper into the bushes, holding his breath as they passed by.
Master Karabaw gave a low grunt of acknowledgement as the two entered. Then, in his gravelly voice, he spoke:
"Why don't we let the third disciple join us?"
And he looked directly at Li.
For a moment, Li froze. He considered fleeing, but with Master Zhang and Master Xing present, he chose instead to stay. Slowly, he rose to his feet, cheeks warm with embarrassment.
Zhang met him with a serene smile. "Disciple Li. Come. There is no shame here."
Li swallowed his nerves, nodded, and stepped into the room. He moved quietly between Xing and Zhang, both of whom offered him gentle, approving smiles as he sat.
"He's heard enough to understand," one of the scholars said.
"Then let us not delay," another replied. "The warning speaks of three days. Little time, and fewer choices. The Covenant has already tightened its grip upon this place.
If we abandon it now, we hand the militias a symbol. A reason to strike harder, farther, with more fervor. I say we remain. If the worst comes, we endure—and we resist. And if God favors us, then nothing comes of it at all."
Another voice, more cautious, chimed in, "And what of Disciple Li? You know what he carries. They'll come for him before any of us."
"Exactly why we all must stay," Zhang said quietly. "You know his condition. His memory, his mind... and what lies buried within it. That alone makes him a target. But he is not without protection."
Xing nodded solemnly. "The S-Tiers are watching him. Always."
"But the S-Tiers… whose side are they on?" one of the elders said gravely. "Can't you see it? The militias have their own champions now—their own S-Tiers. If both factions have turned their gaze upon this boy, how can we say with any certainty that the Covenant shall prevail?"
The room grew still. Even the candlelight seemed to flicker less.
A moment passed.
"Something is stirring," the voice continued, softer now. "And I fear whatever it is... it does not bode well for us."
Li hesitated, then spoke—quietly at first, but the words carried like ripples over still water.
"The Imbecile… he's standing in the center of the courtyard."
Heads turned sharply toward him.
"At this hour?" someone asked, brows furrowed.
Karabaw let out a deep, rumbling grunt, his expression unreadable.
Zhang lowered his eyes, voice barely above a whisper. "So… something really is wrong now."