The moon had barely risen when the Ancient Lan Sect fell into an unusually heavy silence that evening.
The coronation celebrations were over, the guests had returned to their dignified quarters, and the clan disciples had finally settled after the shock of Mark's sudden reforms. Even the grand courtyards, usually bright with lanterns, seemed dimmer that night.
Mark had returned to his own humble and cozy residence nearby the sect, where he lived for months, rather than the Ice Palace of the Clan, exhausted from the coronation and the flood of responsibilities he had to take on his shoulders. He retired to his residence without fanfare, unaware of what was happening on the other side of the mountain.
