The battle was over.
But the echoes of thunder had not yet faded.
Within the sacred grounds of the Verdant Moon Sect, disciples continued to whisper in awe and disbelief. What they had witnessed was no ordinary tournament victory—it was the unraveling of long-standing hierarchies. A newcomer, a dark horse named Shadow, had walked into the lion's den and emerged victorious not once, but again and again, shattering pride, power, and presumption with each step.
In the aftermath of the final duel, as the sect's formation elders began restoring the battlefield, Shadow stood once more beneath the high terrace where the Sect Master and the core elders watched.
His clothes were torn, his body still battered, but his gaze held firm.
Murmurs surged through the crowd.
> "Is he going to speak again?"
> "He's really daring. He's facing the Sect Master like they're equals."
> "He just fought Ren Shun and didn't fall. What's he afraid of now?"
Then, with the same steady presence that carried him through every brutal clash, Shadow looked up.
> "Sect Master," he said, loud enough for the entire arena to hear, "I believe I've earned the right to claim my reward."
The words fell like stones in a still pond. Silence radiated outward from them.
The Sect Master, robed in gold-trimmed black, narrowed his eyes. Though his expression remained neutral, his fingers curled on the armrest of his throne.
Around him, several elders shifted uncomfortably.
"Such boldness," one whispered.
"He should learn his place," another muttered.
But the Sect Master did not rise immediately. Instead, he regarded Shadow as one might regard a wild beast that had yet to be tamed.
Behind him, in a darkened viewing alcove reserved for special guests, a middle-aged man in fine robes sat motionless. His presence alone quieted the senior disciples nearby.
The **Patriarch of the Ren Family**.
His lips pressed into a thin line. His gaze never left Shadow.
Finally, the Sect Master stood. He raised one hand and spoke, his voice calm, but laced with measured authority.
> "Shadow. Your performance today was… noteworthy. Few could have done what you have done. However, as elders, we must not allow ourselves to be swayed by passion or spectacle. Cultivation is not just about strength, but vision."
Shadow said nothing. He listened.
> "While you have bested strong opponents, the path beyond the Foundation Realm—into the Muscle and Skin Forging Realm—is a gate that many cannot pass. Your spiritual root and physique, from what our records show, lack certain… advantages."
There was a murmur from the onlookers.
Shadow raised a brow. "So you mean to say, my future ends here?"
The Sect Master smiled faintly.
> "I mean to say that reckless use of one's body and soul in techniques like the one you performed may bring short-term glory, but leave long-term ruin. It is the duty of a master to guide the misguided."
Now the crowd stirred.
Jian Wu, standing at the edge of the formation ring, clenched his jaw. "Hypocrite," he muttered under his breath.
Shadow looked up again. "Then what of the Spirit Pool reward?"
The Sect Master's smile didn't falter. "Ah, yes. The Spirit Pool of Verdant Origin. A rare treasure. Its waters can aid a disciple in transcending limits—but only those already on the edge of a breakthrough. Since your path seems... limited, it would be inappropriate to grant you such a resource."
A pause.
> "Instead, the sect offers you fifty middle-grade spirit stones. A generous reward, far exceeding what any core disciple receives in a year. It should suffice."
A gasp echoed from the inner court.
> "That's not the same!"
> "It's compensation. But he earned the real thing!"
Even among the elders, a few exchanged glances.
Shadow, still covered in blood, remained calm.
Then, with deliberate slowness, he smiled.
It wasn't forced.
It wasn't bitter.
It was knowing.
> "Thank you, Sect Master," he said, bowing lightly. "Your wisdom, as always, is enlightening."
The Sect Master's eye twitched. The flattery felt like a slap.
But Shadow wasn't finished.
> "Fifty middle-grade spirit stones will serve me well. I shall strive to break my limits regardless of what I 'lack.'"
The crowd didn't know whether to laugh or applaud.
Jian Wu stepped forward and handed him the core disciple badge—a dark iron emblem shaped like a swirling thundercloud.
> "You earned this," he whispered. "Don't forget who you are."
Shadow nodded, accepting both the badge and the pouch of spirit stones from a waiting elder.
Then, without another word, he turned.
And walked away.
The Sect Master remained standing, staring after him, eyes shadowed.
An elder leaned close. "He played you."
> "No," the Sect Master said coldly. "He bought time. He thinks I can't see the trap he laid."
From the shaded alcove, the Ren Patriarch finally stood.
His voice was low, but everyone heard it.
> "The boy is clever. But cleverness does not save you from destiny. I suggest, for the sake of peace, we end this story before it writes more chapters."
The Sect Master gave a small nod. "I will handle it."
The Ren Patriarch walked away.
---
Meanwhile, Shadow reached the edge of the arena grounds. Jian Wu caught up to him.
> "You should've called him out," Jian Wu said. "That was a trap. Everyone could see it."
Shadow looked at the horizon. The sun was beginning to dip, bleeding gold and orange into the clouds.
> "If I argued," Shadow said, "they would say I was arrogant. Ungrateful. The Sect Master would use it to turn the elders against me. But this way…"
He held up the badge.
> "I have what I came for. A core seat. Resources. Time."
Jian Wu nodded slowly. "And the Spirit Pool?"
Shadow's smile returned. "He just told the world I can't break through. I'll let him believe that—until I do."
They stood in silence for a moment.
Then Jian Wu laughed. "You're trouble."
> "No," Shadow said, eyes gleaming with faint lightning. "I'm the reminder that storms never ask permission before they strike."
And with that, he turned toward the path leading back to the inner sect quarters.
But he knew one thing:
This was only the beginning.
---
**End of Chapter 76**