The morning mist still clung to the grass, curling around the legs like the cool breath of a watchful spirit.
Ethan stood outside the Liu family's lodge, adjusting the coarse tunic tied around his waist. His hands were clean. His face washed. But his heart thudded like a war drum.
He was going to face the elders.
And not as a Gu Master… not even as a Liu by name.
Just a boy with no tribe, no roots, and a borrowed identity.
"Zhang Wei," came a deep voice behind him.
He turned. Liu Tieshan was walking toward him, dressed in his formal robes—a dark brown coat of beast-leather with muted gold patterns woven at the sleeves. His wide shoulders carried weight, not just of strength, but of reputation. Of responsibility.
Tieshan stopped a few steps away and gave Ethan a brief, unreadable look.
"You nervous?"
Ethan hesitated. "A little."
A small grunt of amusement escaped the man. "Good. You should be."
He stepped closer, placing one heavy hand on Ethan's shoulder. His grip was firm, grounding.
"I'm going to speak with the clan elders today," he said. "About you."
Ethan blinked. "Me?"
Tieshan nodded. "The Awakening Ceremony is for members of the Liu bloodline. Outsiders aren't allowed, no matter how talented. The rules are older than most of the elders themselves. But rules bend… when a life is saved."
His gaze softened, just a little.
"You brought back my son. Alive. Whole. That alone means you are not just a stranger passing through."
Ethan looked down. "I didn't do it for a reward."
"I know," Tieshan said. "Which is exactly why I'm doing this."
He stepped back and folded his arms.
"Listen carefully. When we step inside the elders' chamber, you'll speak only when spoken to. Bow when I do. Do not look them in the eyes unless one of them addresses you directly. No sudden movements. No clever words."
"…Got it."
"They are not like me," Tieshan said, his voice growing heavier. "I was born into this tribe, fought for it, bled for it. They see the big picture—resources, lineage, power. They may not care about your story."
He paused.
"But I do."
Ethan looked up, meeting the man's gaze.
For a second, there was no Gu, no status screens, no ranks—just a father protecting someone he'd quietly begun to accept into his family.
"I'm not asking them to adopt you," Tieshan said. "Only to let you stand on even ground—to give you the chance you deserve. What happens after that… will be on you."
Ethan nodded slowly. "Thank you… Uncle Tieshan."
Tieshan raised a brow.
"…Uncle, huh? Getting bold now."
Ethan smiled sheepishly. "Just felt right."
"Hmph. Just don't start calling Lan Mother, or she'll cry on the spot."
The tension eased for a brief second.
Then Tieshan turned serious again.
"This world is cruel to mortals. You've seen it yourself. Unless you awaken and walk the path of a Gu Master, you'll always be seen as lesser—dust beneath the boots of the strong."
He stared out toward the hill where the elders' stone lodge waited, silent and imposing.
"But if you take this step… if the Hope Gu awakens your aperture…"
His eyes burned with intensity.
"…then you'll never have to bow to anyone again."
The Elder Chamber of the Liu Tribe sat at the heart of the camp, a round, stone-walled structure lined with ancestral masks, ceremonial weapons, and scrolls so old their corners had darkened to ash-grey.
Ethan stood just behind Liu Tieshan as the heavy wooden doors creaked open.
The atmosphere inside was cool and dry—too cool and dry. A faint smell of crushed spiritual herbs lingered in the air, as if the walls and stones had absorbed the aura of countless meetings and memories.
Four elders sat in a circle on the low stools that were carved from dark ironwood. Behind the elders, the carved reliefs of past heroes loomed silently.
In the center of the circle sat a big man with a high forehead and steel-gray hair, tied in warrior's fashion: Liu Yunhai, the current Clan Head of the Liu Tribe. He had a mountain-like presence—calm, solid, and heavy, but impossible to ignore.
To his right sat Elder Liu Muchen, a lean, sharp-eyed man with a short beard and scholar's robes. He was known to handle the tribe's logistics and archives—measured, cautious, rarely quick to speak.
Next to him was Elder Liu Qingsong, an older woman with faded scars on her cheek and a spear leaning beside her seat. She radiated the fierce pride of a warrior even in stillness.
And finally… seated across from them, arms crossed and eyes narrowed in visible distaste, was Elder Liu Hengzhi.
Tieshan's jaw clenched the moment he saw him.
"Damn my luck," he muttered under his breath.
Ethan, catching the whisper, glanced up at him.
Tieshan didn't look back. His face had become the mask of a tribal warrior—stoic, unreadable. But Ethan could feel the shift in the air.
That man—Elder Hengzhi—wasn't stronger than Tieshan. But his influence within the tribe was dangerous in its own way. An old-blood traditionalist, Hengzhi believed in the purity of the Liu lineage above all else. Any outsider, no matter their deeds, was suspect.
Especially a nameless boy.
The clan head spoke first.
"Tieshan. You have brought someone."
"Yes, Clan Head Yunhai," Tieshan said, bowing deeply, motioning for Ethan to follow his lead. Ethan mimicked the posture exactly, eyes fixed on the floor.
"This youth… Zhang Wei," Tieshan continued, "was the one who rescued my son, Liu Xiaofan, from the traitor Jin Tu. He led us back to the cave where the child was hidden, protected him with his own body, and returned him without asking for reward."
Elder Qingsong grunted. "I heard the report. My daughter was on patrol during that return. She said the boy was quiet, respectful."
Liu Muchen nodded as well, brushing his fingers over the edge of a bamboo scroll. "His background?"
"He claimed to be from a small mortal village near the west. Burned during the raids two months back. He wandered north, alone, until fate brought him to us."
Elder Hengzhi snorted audibly. "Fate," he said with open disdain. "So we are taking in every stray with a sob story now?"
Tieshan didn't flinch. But a small pulse of aura rolled off his frame—subtle, but pressing.
Ethan could feel the change in pressure. The room tensed slightly.
Tieshan looked directly at Hengzhi.
"Elder, I know your stance. But this is not charity. I am requesting his formal recognition as a member of the Liu Tribe—not by blood, but by deed."
"That is a bold request," Liu Yunhai said slowly, though his tone held no judgment.
Tieshan bowed again. "Then let me speak boldly. The boy is thirteen. Just of age for the Awakening Ceremony. If we deny him now, we might be denying a future Gu Master of potential."
Elder Muchen tapped the scroll he was holding. "We've made exceptions in the past. Though rare. And we can't be sure that the kid would become a Gu Master by awakening his aperture?"
Elder Hengzhi leaned forward, eyes gleaming with controlled fire. "And what happens if this outsider bears a traitorous heart? We let him awaken, train him with clan resources, and one day he turns on us like others have in the past?"
Tieshan's eyes narrowed. His next words were slow, firm.
"Then let me stake my own name on his loyalty. If he betrays this tribe, let the punishment fall on my house."
A sharp intake of breath echoed from the side.
Even Ethan felt the weight of it. That was no small vow. In a world like this, where oaths had meaning and families were lineages built over generations, such a promise was nothing less than tying a noose around one's future.
The silence stretched.
Then, at last, Liu Yunhai exhaled.
"We do not discard those who protect our own. If this youth is willing to walk our path, then let him prove himself. Let him be entered into the ceremony… as a son of the Liu."
Ethan's head snapped up, eyes wide.
"…What?"
Elder Qingsong gave a rare smile. "It means you're in, boy."
Tieshan clapped a hand on Ethan's shoulder, pride glimmering in his eyes. "Don't waste it."
Elder Hengzhi did not speak. But the way he stared at Ethan—with thinly veiled dislike—made it clear: the old man would be watching.