The Ember Sect.
The mountain paths were lined with disciples in ceremonial robes. They gathered for the homecoming—not of victors, but of survivors.
Rana Flare returned like a favored ember—her steps slower, but her flame no less respected. Elders lined the courtyard, offering scrolls and salves, praises and shallow bows to her and the other nine disciples who had entered the Ruona International Tournament. Disciples clustered nearby, eyes filled with awe. They had seen the tournament. They'd lived each strike, watched each pulse, heard every name whispered louder than the one before. Rana's performance was exceptional, despite her not winning.
Later, in the east gardens, Rana sat beside Liraunder the soft canopy of spirit-fruit blossoms.
"So?" Lira leaned close. "When were you going to tell me you had a fiancé?"
Rana groaned. "I don't—I didn't—it's just my mother being dramatic."
"Oh? Dramatic, like 'he cradled you in front of the entire continent'?"
Rana's cheeks flushed. "He was healing me."
"Through your mouth."
Rana buried her face in her hands. "You're impossible."
"No, he is. And you? You're obviously smitten."
Lira leaned back on the bench, arms folded. "So who is he? When did you two meet?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you that."
"So not only is he strong, but also a mystery man. I can see why you fell for him."
Rana flushed deeper, caught between irritation and helpless embarrassment.
"Well, I hope one day you'll introduce your fiancé to me."
"Will you stop that already?"
"Well, you didn't tell me about him, so as your best friend, it's only within my right to tease you about him."
Rana sighed—resigned but smiling.
"Oh—and well done in the tournament," Lira added, softer now. "You might not have won, but your performance is one the continent will never forget."
"Thank you." Rana nodded.
___
Inside the Patriarch's Office
Simon Flare stood with his back to the glowing map of the continent, arms folded. Jana sat nearby. Riven was seated at his desk, still struggling to wrap his mind around everything that had unfolded since leaving Ember Pearl City.
"I doubt the emperor will let that insult fade quietly," Jana said after a moment, her tone measured.
"I'm surprised he didn't kill the boy on the spot," Riven muttered.
"That's because he wants something from Jalen," Simon replied.
"The boy's cultivation method," Jana added calmly.
Simon nodded. "But rather than risk open conflict between our Flare family and the royal court, he'll move quietly. Underhanded tactics are more their style."
"If they can't reach Jalen directly, they'll probe his roots. Twist them. Pressure his blood."
"That's why I've sent two elders to quietly watch over the Hewitt family."
"Our daughter will need protection as well, since I have no doubt she'll be pulled into this."
"And whose fault was that?" Simon's gaze didn't shift. "You announce to the whole continent that the boy is her fiancé."
"Oh don't tell me you're still sour about that, dear," Jana said, with a teasing smile. "I did it for our daughter's future."
"She would've been caught up in this either way," Simon said. "Her sudden advancement… my breakthrough into the Imperial Realm… and then Jalen appears, cultivating faster than anyone on record. It's only logical that observers will assume he shared his method with us. If I were still in the Moon Realm, they'd have already pressured us—demanding we give up both Jalen and whatever technique they think we're hiding. That's why the three clans tried to recruit him. He rejected them without hesitation. He doesn't want chains. Not theirs. Not ours."
"I just fear that when my precious son in law decides to go out on his own the enemy will take the opportunity to take him out," Jana said. She would arrange people to watch over him, but she knows Jalen won't allow it, so it doesn't make sense to even mention it.
"True. But I'm sure that boy have many tricks up his sleeves to stay alive."
"I'll have Ember Clan elders monitor Lady Rana's movements," Riven offered.
Simon nodded. "Good."
"He's here in EmberFall," Jana replied. "But unless you've broken into the Imperial Realm, you won't sense him so easily. His technique masks him from everyone below it. Unless you're at a higher realm than he is and focusing solely on finding him—you'll never find him."
Even for Moon Realm or Star Realm cultivators, sensing Jalen wasn't a given. His energy didn't radiate passively like most cultivators. Unless he willingly revealed himself—or they were specifically attuned to trace him—they'd never detect his presence through casual observation.
Riven blinked. His breath caught. "…Don't tell me…"
Jana didn't answer. She didn't need to.
"I bid you farewell old friend." Simon bowed to Riven who mirrored his move. Jana rose and did the same before followed Simon out.
The Ember Clan's southern training barracks stood quiet beneath a drifting mist. Spirit lanterns cast long arcs across the polished courtyard tiles—reflections rippling in rows like silent sentinels.
Jalen stood near the entrance. Alone. Arms folded.
Before him were four figures: Sion, Delra, Kaelin, and Tian.
They wore the silver-threaded robes of outer disciples, but none of them looked like they believed it yet. Vernon pride lingered in their posture, in the way they held their shoulders, in the way none of them bowed.
"It's you," Delra uttered. She felt awkward being around Jalen. In the past, he was nothing but a servant in the Hewitt family—someone she barely paid attention to, only assisting once when he was bullied. Looking back now, it was ridiculous.
For Sion, he didn't know Jalen personally, but he knew of his father. And now this servant had surpassed everyone in the Hewitt family. As the son of a branch family that was often looked down upon, Sion respected Jalen deeply for rising above expectations. What impressed him most was that Jalen had the power to flip the family upside down—but didn't. Instead, he stayed in the shadows. That was real self-discipline.
Kaelin stood firm but quiet. Tian lingered a step back—still observant, still unreadable.
"No need for surprise. I'm only here to help you improve—if you're willing," Jalen said. With everything happening around him—his exposure to the continent, the enemies he'd made—he was sure the Hewitt family would eventually be dragged into his mess. Though he didn't care much for them, they were still his blood. They fed and housed his father, even if not out of kindness. That was enough.
"Are you kidding me? Of course," Sion said, excited. Jalen was a Star Realm cultivator. Though he didn't fully understand what that meant, he knew it was above Peak Diamond—and judging by how the strong people reacted to him, it was a big deal.
"Yes, please." Delra wouldn't turn down anything that could help her grow.
Kaelin glanced at him. "If you're offering, I won't refuse."
Tian gave a curt nod. "I'll take any improvement you can give."
Jalen didn't hesitate.
With a pulse of spirit sense, he pierced into their spirit seas and give them an updated version of the Gallant Wind Blade Cultivation Method tailored to their fighting styles.
Sion's foundation was solid—but his stance transitions were inefficient in high-pressure exchanges. Jalen implanted a stabilizer tuned to his footwork rhythm, minimizing rebound lag between defensive shifts.
Delra's dagger-based pressure style was surgical, but her qi channels wavered under prolonged stress. Jalen reinforced her inner spirit anchors with a glyph beneath the collarbone to fortify her rhythm under strain.
Kaelin's cultivation was pristine, but too rigid—built for ideal conditions, prone to fracture when rhythm destabilized. Jalen threaded a meridian buffer formation into her core, allowing adaptive energy loops to absorb chaotic tempo mid-fight.
Tian's strikes were powerful and concise, but his breath and tempo lacked elasticity. Jalen placed a pacing regulator along his spirit flow, tuning his internal rhythm to shift with pressure changes rather than resist them.
None of them asked what he gave them.
They understood.
When Jalen finished, he wished them luck.
And before they could say anything, he was gone.