The Verdant Peak Sect's branch office was larger than Kai had expected. Beyond the gates, a courtyard of white stone stretched before them, meticulously maintained gardens flanking a central path that led to the main administrative building. Disciples in varying shades of green robes moved about—the pale green of outer disciples, the deeper emerald of inner disciples, and occasionally the rich jade of what Kai assumed were core disciples or administrators.
A stable boy approached as they entered, his outer disciple robes marking him as low-ranking despite being perhaps only a year or two older than Kai. "Honorable guests, may I tend your horses?"
Chen Wei dismounted, and Kai followed suit. "Please. Treat them well—Stormfoot has a sensitive left foreleg, and Cloudstrider dislikes sudden movements."
The stable boy bowed, accepting the reins of both horses. Kai ran his hand along Cloudstrider's neck one last time, feeling the mare's pulse beneath his palm, the warmth of her breath. "Easy, girl. I'll see you soon."
Cloudstrider nickered softly, her dark eyes watching him as the stable boy led both horses away toward the eastern side of the compound.
"This way," Chen Wei said, leading Kai toward the main building.
They were intercepted before they reached the steps by a disciple in darker green robes—an inner disciple, Kai noted. The young man was perhaps twenty-five, with a lean build and sharp eyes that assessed them with practiced efficiency. His cultivation base radiated from him like heat from a fire—ninth stage Qi Condensation, on the verge of breaking through to Meridian Opening Realm.
"Village Leader Chen," the disciple said, his tone polite but carrying the faint superiority of sect member to civilian. "What brings you to our branch office? Is there trouble in Willow Creek?"
"No trouble, Disciple Feng." Chen Wei bowed respectfully—not too deep, maintaining his dignity as village leader, but acknowledging the disciple's higher cultivation status. "I've come regarding my son, Kai. He's experienced... a significant development. We need to speak with Administrator Huang."
Disciple Feng's gaze shifted to Kai, and Kai felt the man's spiritual sense wash over him—a probing touch of qi designed to assess cultivation level. It was intrusive, presumptuous, the kind of thing a superior could do to an inferior without permission.
Kai met his eyes steadily and didn't flinch.
Feng's eyebrows rose. "Sixth stage Qi Condensation? At..." He paused, calculating. "Sixteen?"
"Fifteen and a half," Kai corrected softly.
"Impossible. You were tested two years ago during the village census. You barely registered at first stage." Feng stepped closer, his spiritual sense pressing harder, trying to penetrate deeper. "What technique are you using to falsify your cultivation base?"
"He's testing you," the demon observed. "Challenging you. Show weakness now, and you'll be dismissed. Show strength, and you'll be taken seriously."
Kai gathered his qi—just a fraction of it—and pushed back.
It wasn't aggressive, not quite. Just a firm resistance, like closing a door against an unwelcome guest. His meridians, opened wide by the demon's power, allowed him to move qi with a speed and precision that shocked even him. The spiritual sense that had been pressing against his defenses suddenly met a wall.
Feng stumbled back a step, his eyes widening. "You—"
"I'm not falsifying anything, Disciple Feng," Kai said calmly. "I had a breakthrough three nights ago. A true breakthrough, triggered by the awakening of my bloodline heritage. That's why we're here—to have it properly evaluated and recorded."
"Bloodline heritage?" Feng's skepticism warred with curiosity. "What bloodline?"
Kai glanced at his father, who nodded encouragingly. Slowly, Kai reached up and loosened the collar of his robe, pulling it aside enough to reveal the upper portion of the dragon mark. The scales caught the afternoon light, shimmering with that faint purple luminescence.
Feng went very still. "That's... that's a draconic lineage mark."
"Yes."
"Let me see more."
Kai hesitated deliberately, as if reluctant, then pulled his robe open further. The full mark was revealed—the coiled dragon, the elegant scales, the claws gripping his ribs. It was beautiful and terrifying in equal measure, a piece of artwork that seemed almost too perfect to be natural.
Because it wasn't natural, Kai thought distantly. It was a demon's masterwork, a disguise crafted by something that had outlived civilizations.
Feng stared for a long moment, then seemed to shake himself. "Wait here. Both of you. Administrator Huang needs to see this immediately." He turned and practically ran up the steps, his earlier arrogance replaced by genuine urgency.
Chen Wei let out a breath. "Well done, son. You handled that perfectly."
Had he? Kai wasn't sure. The interaction had felt almost mechanical—assess the situation, identify the power dynamics, respond with precisely calibrated force. No anger at Feng's presumption. No pride at the man's shocked response. Just... calculation.
"You're adapting faster than expected," the demon said approvingly. "Most humans cling to their emotions even as I drain them. You're learning to function without them."
"Is that good?" Kai thought back at it.
"It's necessary. Emotions cloud judgment. Make you hesitate. Make you weak. You're becoming what you need to be."
Kai wasn't sure if that was an answer or an evasion.
They waited in the courtyard for perhaps ten minutes. Kai spent the time observing—watching disciples move about their business, noting the hierarchy in how they interacted. Outer disciples bowed to inner disciples. Inner disciples showed deference to core disciples. Everyone moved with purpose, as if wasting time was itself a sin.
This was a world built on power. On cultivation realms and advancement. On the strong dominating the weak. Everything else was just decoration.
Finally, Disciple Feng reappeared at the top of the steps, accompanied by an older man in robes of deep jade green embroidered with gold thread. Administrator Huang was perhaps fifty, with gray streaking his beard and temples, but his eyes were sharp and his cultivation base was solid—early Foundation Establishment Realm, Kai sensed. The difference between them was like comparing a candle to a bonfire.
"Village Leader Chen," Huang said, descending the steps with measured dignity. "Disciple Feng tells me your son has manifested draconic lineage. A significant claim."
"Not a claim, Administrator," Chen Wei said, bowing deeply. "A reality. He awakened three nights ago during a cultivation breakthrough."
Huang's gaze settled on Kai, and the weight of a Foundation Establishment cultivator's attention was like standing before a mountain. "Show me, boy."
Kai opened his robe without hesitation this time, revealing the dragon mark in full. He stood still as Huang approached, not flinching as the administrator's spiritual sense washed over him—far more powerful than Feng's, far more invasive, probing not just his cultivation base but the very nature of his qi.
"He's searching for traces of demonic energy," the demon warned. "Searching for anything abnormal. Don't panic. I've hidden myself well. The mark reads as pure draconic heritage—ancient, dormant until recently awakened. He'll find nothing suspicious."
Huang circled Kai slowly, studying the mark from every angle. His fingers traced the air above the scales without quite touching them, following the pattern. "The configuration is consistent with Azure Dragon lineage," he murmured, more to himself than to them. "Third-generation descendant, perhaps fourth. The bloodline has thinned over generations but remains potent."
He stepped back, his expression thoughtful. "Tell me exactly what happened during your breakthrough."
Kai had prepared for this question. "I was meditating three nights ago—there was a blood moon, though I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was frustrated with my slow progress, pushing harder than usual. Then suddenly, I felt heat in my chest, like fire spreading through my meridians. The mark, which had been dormant since birth, began to burn. I saw light behind my closed eyes, and when I opened them, my qi circulation had increased tenfold."
It was close enough to the truth to be convincing. The best lies always were.
"Your meridians," Huang said sharply. "Let me examine them more closely. This may be uncomfortable."
Before Kai could respond, Huang's spiritual sense drove into him like a spear. Not gentle probing this time, but a forceful examination that would have made a normal cultivator cry out in pain. Kai bit his lip, tasting blood, as Huang's qi traced through his meridian system.
He felt the administrator's shock ripple through the connection.
"All of them," Huang breathed. "Every major meridian, opened. Not just opened—perfectly cleared, as if you've been cultivating for decades. This shouldn't be possible for someone at sixth stage Qi Condensation."
"Careful," the demon warned. "Too much perfection raises suspicion. Give him an explanation."
"The bloodline awakening," Kai managed, his voice strained from the invasive examination. "It didn't just give me power. It restructured my meridian system, adapted it to handle draconic qi. That's why my cultivation speed increased."
Huang withdrew his spiritual sense, and Kai nearly collapsed from the relief. His father caught his elbow, steadying him.
"Remarkable," Huang said, though his tone was contemplative rather than celebratory. "Bloodline awakenings are rare enough. One this potent, this transformative..." He stroked his beard, calculating. "You understand what this means, boy? What you represent to the sect?"
"An investment," Kai said quietly, forcing himself to stand straight despite the lingering discomfort. "A cultivator with high potential who could bring honor to Verdant Peak Sect."
"Honor, yes. But also complications." Huang turned to Chen Wei. "Your son's advancement will attract attention from other sects. The moment we register his bloodline awakening in our records, other organizations will hear of it. Some will try to recruit him. Others will see him as a threat to their own prodigies."
"Then protect him," Chen Wei said firmly. "Isn't that the point of tribute? Of our villages supporting the sect? You protect us from bandits and spirit beasts. Surely you can protect one boy."
Huang's expression hardened. "Watch your tone, Village Leader. Your son's talent doesn't entitle you to make demands." But then he sighed, the hardness fading. "However, you're not wrong. The sect has a responsibility to nurture exceptional talent, especially when it emerges from our own territory."
He turned back to Kai. "I'm accepting you as an inner disciple, effective immediately. You'll skip the outer disciple trials entirely—your cultivation base and bloodline heritage are sufficient proof of your worth. You'll be given quarters in the inner disciple compound, access to the sect's technique library, and a monthly stipend of contribution points for purchasing resources."
Kai's heart should have leapt. This was better than he'd hoped—skipping straight to inner disciple status would save years of menial work and political maneuvering. But he felt only cold satisfaction, like checking off an item on a list.
"However," Huang continued, "your advancement will be watched closely. If your cultivation speed continues at this rate, if you demonstrate combat ability commensurate with your realm, you may be elevated to core disciple status within a year. And if you prove truly exceptional..." He paused meaningfully. "The Sect Leader himself may take an interest."
"There it is," the demon said. "The dangled prize. Legacy disciple status. Personal instruction from the Sect Leader. Access to the sect's deepest resources. They're already imagining what you could become."
"I won't disappoint," Kai said, and meant it.
Huang nodded. "Disciple Feng will handle your registration and show you to your quarters. Your father should return to Willow Creek—families are not permitted in the inner disciple compound."
Chen Wei's face fell, but he nodded. He turned to Kai, gripping his shoulders one last time. "Make us proud, son. Make yourself proud. And remember—"
"Power attracts predators," Kai finished softly. "I remember, Father."
They embraced, and Kai felt the distant echo of love somewhere in his chest, muffled and faint, like a voice calling from the bottom of a well. His father was warm, solid, real. But Kai felt like he was hugging a stranger through a veil.
"I'll visit when I can," Chen Wei promised, pulling back. His eyes were wet again. "Your mother will want to hear everything."
"Tell her I'm well," Kai said. "Tell her... tell her I love her."
The words felt hollow. A script he was reading. But his father smiled through his tears and seemed to believe them.
After Chen Wei departed, Cloudstrider and Stormfoot in tow, Feng led Kai deeper into the compound. They passed training yards where disciples sparred with weapons and fists, meditation gardens where others sat in silent cultivation, library buildings with walls covered in protective formations.
"The inner disciple compound houses about three hundred disciples," Feng explained as they walked. "You'll have your own room—small, but private. Training facilities are open from dawn to dusk. The technique library has borrowing restrictions based on your cultivation realm and merit points. Meals are provided twice daily in the dining hall." He glanced at Kai. "You're lucky, you know. Most people spend years as outer disciples before earning advancement. You're starting at a level others would kill for."
"I understand," Kai said neutrally.
Feng's expression flickered—perhaps disappointment at Kai's lack of enthusiasm, or suspicion at his composure. "Your quarters are here. Building seven, room twenty-three."
The building was two stories of stone and wood, elegantly constructed but austere. Feng led him to a second-floor room barely large enough for a bed, a meditation cushion, a small desk, and a trunk for belongings.
"Robes will be delivered tomorrow," Feng said. "Inner disciple green. Until then, your current clothes will suffice. Evening meal is in two hours. Don't be late—Sect Administrator Huang will be introducing you to the other inner disciples."
After Feng left, Kai sat on the edge of the bed and looked around his new home. It was smaller than his room in his father's manor. More austere. Impersonal.
Perfect.
"So," the demon said. "You've made it inside. Into their world. Into their hierarchy. How does it feel?"
Kai closed his eyes and reached inward, checking his cultivation. The qi continued to flow through his meridians in steady cycles, even without active meditation. He was already approaching seventh stage Qi Condensation. At this rate, he'd reach it within days.
"It feels like a beginning," Kai said aloud.
"Good. Because that's all it is. A beginning. These people—these sect disciples, these administrators—they think they understand power. They think their cultivation realms make them strong. But they're soft, boy. They've never had to truly sacrifice. They've never fed a demon to achieve their dreams."
Kai opened his robe and looked down at the dragon mark. In the privacy of his room, with no one to observe, he could see it for what it truly was—a beautiful lie covering a terrible truth.
"What happens when they find out?" Kai asked quietly. "When someone eventually discovers what I really am?"
"Then you make sure you're powerful enough that it doesn't matter," the demon replied simply. "That's why we're here. That's why you accepted my offer. By the time anyone suspects the truth, you'll be too valuable to kill, too dangerous to challenge, too powerful to stop."
"And if I'm not?"
"Then you'll die, and I'll find another host in another ten thousand years. But I don't think you'll die, Kai. I think you're going to surprise everyone—including yourself."
Kai stood and walked to the small window that overlooked the training yards. Below, disciples practiced their techniques, their qi creating visible effects in the air—blades of wind, walls of stone, streams of water.
They looked so proud. So confident in their righteous cultivation, their honorable techniques, their pure qi.
None of them knew that something else had entered their world. Something that wore a dragon's scales and hid a demon's heart.
Kai touched his chest, feeling his cultivation continue its relentless advance, feeding on the spiritual energy that saturated the sect compound.
Two months, the demon had said, until he reached Meridian Opening Realm. Then Foundation Establishment. Then Core Formation. Then Nascent Soul.
Twenty-five realms to immortality.
He'd climb every one of them, no matter the cost.
The blood moon that had marked his birth was gone, but its legacy remained—carved into his flesh, nested in his soul, driving him forward toward a future written in scales and shadow.
Kai smiled, and the expression felt strange on his face. Not quite right. Not quite human.
Perfect.