Looking at the translucent window floating before his eyes, Wang Chen felt a faint ripple of emotion—but not shock.
Only inevitability.
From the moment Lin Huang had asked for permission to leave the dojo, Wang Chen had known this day would come. Revenge had been lodged in that boy's heart from the very beginning, festering like an old wound that refused to heal. It was not merely hatred—it was unfinished blood debt.
That unresolved karma was shackling Lin Huang's talent.
Otherwise, with his natural aptitude and Dao affinity, he should have long since surged ahead of his peers, leaving them choking in his wake. Instead, he had been held back by the weight of unfinished business.
And as his master, Wang Chen could not look away.
Some trials could not be taught.
Some breakthroughs could not be guided.
They had to be witnessed.
"Hmm… it's time for me to move," Wang Chen muttered softly.
