Back in the guest room where Jalen resided at the Flare estate, he sat in a meditative posture—legs folded, hands resting lightly on his knees, breath steady.
But his mind wasn't calm.
He was trying—again—to understand the spirit shard embedded within him.
Since the moment it had flared to life and helped him break through—a few months ago now—it had gone quiet. Dormant. No pulses. No whispers. No signs of intent. Just a faint, constant presence buried deep in his chest.
He'd tried everything—spirit sense, internal resonance, even subtle qi harmonics. Nothing worked. The shard remained inert, as if it had never awakened at all. He also did the same with his second spirit core, but it remained unresponsive as usual.
No matter how he turned the problem in his mind, no answers came.
Eventually, he stopped trying.
He exhaled slowly and let the tension bleed from his shoulders.
Some things couldn't be forced.
And yet, even in stillness, he wasn't alone.
He could feel it—a spirit sense brushing against him from afar. Powerful ones. Some are stronger than him. Watching. Measuring.
He didn't mind.
It was to be expected. He was a stranger in a powerful family's domain. Suspicion was natural.
As long as no one attacked him, he didn't care.
So he let them watch.
And returned to silence.
__
Elsewhere in the estate, beneath the third Flare ward dome…
Rana Flare couldn't sleep.
She'd tried. Spirits knew she'd tried. The estate's finest calming teas. A spirit-woven blanket laced with tranquility runes. Even the breathing techniques her mother had taught her as a child.
Nothing worked.
Her body was still. Her mind was not.
She lay on her side, staring at the ceiling of her chamber—carved with phoenix sigils and inlaid with emberglass. Normally, the slow pulse of the ceiling's glow soothed her. Tonight, it just made her feel exposed.
It was all because of him. Jalen.
She wasn't thinking about him in a romantic way. It wasn't like that. It was… analytical. Obsessive, maybe. She was trying to figure him out.
He said he was from the Vernon Continent. That explained the plain robes and the lack of a familiar clan crest. But it didn't explain the way he moved. Or the way he looked at her father without flinching. Or the way he vanished mid-technique like mist slipping through fingers.
What are you? she thought, jaw tightening. And why the hell do I care?
She didn't have answers.
She exhaled sharply and rolled over.
"Enough," she muttered. "Rana, get yourself together."
She squeezed her eyes shut and yanked the blanket over her head.
"You need to sleep. Not think about Jalen."
She tried. She really did.
But sleep, when it finally came, did not come easily.
The next morning at the inner chamber of the Flare estate was quiet, but the air was heavy with heat and tension.
Simon Flare stood at the head of the room, arms folded behind his back, his gaze fixed on the flame-veined wall. Jana sat nearby, composed but alert, her fingers laced tightly in her lap.
Ridge knelt before them, his voice steady and low.
"I've confirmed the source of the ambush," he said. "It was the Shadow Sect. But they weren't acting alone."
Simon's brow furrowed. "Who else?"
"The Erupt Family," Ridge said. "The top family of Ember Fall. My informants traced the order back to them. But there is no tangible evidence of this. Just whispers and erased trails."
Jana's eyes narrowed. "Convenient. Enough to provoke us, but not enough to justify retaliation."
Simon's aura pulsed. The temperature in the room rose a few degrees.
"They dared to target my daughter," he said, voice like stone grinding steel.
Ridge continued. "I've also tracked down Lady Rana's three escorts. They are unconscious at the hospital. They were disabled by a very potent poison and left to be eaten by Spirit Beasts, I assumed, seeing their bodies were found in the forbidden area of the Emberveil Forest. And the enemies also used invisible shadow powder to suppress the spirit-sense markers you both placed on her. In other words, you wouldn't have noticed Lady Rana was in danger until it was too late."
Jana's lips thinned. "They planned this well."
Simon's fists clenched behind his back. "And the assassins?"
"One was killed by the boy—Jalen," Ridge said. "The other two escaped. I tracked them, but the shadow sect silenced them before I could reach them. No bodies. No traces. They're covering their tracks."
Simon's silence was thunderous.
Ridge reached into his robe and pulled out a scroll. He unrolled it and placed it on the floor.
A wanted poster.
Jalen's face. A bounty mark. Issued by the Shadow Sect.
"They've marked him," Ridge said. "The guild wants him dead. Likely for interfering with their mission."
"So they're tying up loose ends." Jana said.
"Yes, my lady," Ridge said.
She studied the poster for a long moment, then looked to her husband. "We should assign Ridge to him."
Simon turned. "To protect him?"
"To watch him," Jana said. "You've seen it too. He's not normal. He's too calm. Too precise. I want to know what he's hiding. I want answers. And I don't think we'll get them by asking.
"If he's dangerous, we'll know soon enough. And if he's useful… we'll make sure he stays that way."
Simon studied her for a long moment, then gave a single nod.
"Very well. Do as she says."
Ridge bowed. "As you command."
He rose and vanished.