In the quiet days following the Ruona Tournament, while eyes tracked Jalen Hewitt with growing obsession, another shadow crept across the continent—less visible, but just as deliberate.
At first, it felt like market turbulence. A trade delay here. A diplomatic pause there. Nothing alarming. But each disruption lingered longer than expected. Patterns began to repeat. And beneath the surface, something was pulling threads.
By the end of the first week, subtle pressure became structure. Trade routes collapsed. Allies turned silent. Long-standing partnerships dissolved overnight—no conflict, no confrontation. What had begun as uncertainty crystallized into coordinated isolation.
Attempts to arrange diplomatic meetings were ignored. Requests for clarification were dismissed or rerouted endlessly. There were no explanations. No formal declarations.
Just silence.
That silence became the loudest signal.
It didn't take long for Simon, Jana, and Riven to recognize the truth: this was no coincidence. Someone powerful was orchestrating the collapse. Most likely the Stormveil, Verdant Fang and Ironshore Clan, leveraging their regional networks to isolate the Flare Family's influence. And the royal family—though never acting directly—had clearly allowed the suppression to unfold. Perhaps even welcomed it. It aligned too neatly with their interests to be mere indifference.
There were no threats. Nothing spoken aloud. Nothing listed in any official report.
But the implication was undeniable.
The pressure had a purpose. Two, in fact.
First, force them to hand over Jalen Hewitt.
Second, extract whatever cultivation method the Flare Family was believed to possess—something the royal family and top sects suspected Jalen had passed to them. A technique they believed responsible for Simon's rise. For Rana's near-breakthrough. For everything the sanctions couldn't slow.
Based on the coordinated timing, the abrupt withdrawal of support lines, and the eerie uniformity of silence… there was no other conclusion.
___
Inside the Flare compound, tensions rose.
Though they respected Simon, even elders began quietly voicing their concerns. The severity of the collapse—financial, social, and logistical—couldn't be ignored. They knew better than to rebel, but unease bled through discipline.
Even Ember Clan's internal stewards and disciples grew worried. Formation inks were dwindling. External supply vaults emptied. Teleportation permissions had quietly expired. Key trade routes had dried up.
Simon, Jana, and Riven gathered in private and reviewed the situation. There was no panic. Only measured strategy.
They came up with temporary solutions—imperfect, but enough to sustain their network.
Riven reorganized resource access across Ember Clan. Spirit metal and ink reserves were rationed. New elemental-bond cultivation slots for outer disciples were suspended. The Flare Family halted all outward trade with the sects and families that had cut them off. They would no longer offer weapons, pills, or scrolls to anyone involved in the sanctions. Ridge arranged ghost trading behind formation veils—resource flow redirected through untraceable channels using falsified banners, illusion-sealed manifests, and folded spiritual arrays. Shipments moved quietly, without any trail that could be proven or tracked. Artifact divisions across the Flare compound were mobilized to develop internal substitutes for embargoed goods—glyphs, elixirs, and tools that had once been purchased externally now forged from scratch.
It wasn't a declaration.
It was adaptation.
Even now, the Flare Family stood intact—but the weight of suppression was real.
The continent didn't attack.
They didn't accuse.
They simply squeezed.
In the weeks that followed the initial rupture, while the Flare Family and Ember Sect navigated the suffocating grip of silence, one presence did not retreat.
Jalen Hewitt had remained quiet, rarely seen, rarely spoken to—but he had not been idle.
He spent each day with four members of the Hewitt lineage: Sion, Delra, Kaelin, and Tian. What had begun as observation in earlier months now became intervention. Not instruction—refinement.
Through sustained application of tailored enhancements, core rhythm attunement, and qi circuit adjustment, each disciple's cultivation surged far beyond its natural course.
During the Ruona Tournament, Kaelin and Tian held their ground in the Mid Pearl Realm, considered prodigious for their age. Delra, at Early Pearl, had shown raw precision. Sion, sitting at Mid Pearl, moved like someone who had already begun shaping mastery.
Now, under Jalen's guidance:
Tian and Delra stood in the Peak Amethyst Realm, matching strength with balance. Kaelin had crossed into Early Amethyst, her structure softened, her adaptability grown. Sion led the quartet—quiet and focused—in the Early Gold Realm, his aura dense enough to stir attention whenever he moved.
Not long ago, Jalen had remarked—more to himself than to them—that each might reach the Gold Realm before forty if they cultivated without help.
That projection now felt conservative.
Their foundations were sharpened. Their qi rhythm harmonized. Their breakthroughs had accelerated tenfold.
They didn't flaunt it.
They didn't speak of Jalen's influence aloud.
But when they trained, others moved aside—not because of rank, but because of presence.
Rana, meanwhile, had been locked away in secluded cultivation. The marrow crystal he had refined for her still pulsed at her core, and her flame root had deepened in resonance. She now stood at the Peak Gold Realm, her aura threaded with subtle ignition signatures, ready to evolve to the next realm.