CHAPTER 7 — "THE MURONG PROBLEM"
The Murong Clan residence was nothing short of majestic — a fusion of ancient architecture and modern awakened security systems. Spirit lamps lined the walkways, glowing faintly with azure flame, illuminating rows of carved jade pillars depicting frost dragons.
Tonight, however, the beauty was overshadowed by tension.
Inside the grand hall, a holographic projection replayed the Ravenwood dungeon incident again and again. Guild footage, student clips, even shaky teacher recordings were compiled into a single file. Every angle showed Long Hao fighting — dodging, striking, incapacitating creatures with movements that screamed trained killer.
Murong Lingtian, patriarch of the Murong Clan, sat at the head of the hall, fingers tapping the table.
"This boy..." he muttered. "He was declared talentless just hours earlier."
Elder Murong Zhaoxun stroked his beard. "His movements are too precise. Not awakened. Not martial arts. Pure assassination technique."
Murong Lingtian narrowed his eyes. "Assassination technique? In a seventeen-year-old student?"
Another elder chimed in, "The footage shows no energy signature. No talent resonance. Yet his combat ability is… frightening."
A hush fell over the hall.
Murong Yuer stood near the far end, her posture stiff, her hands cold. Her gaze remained locked onto the projection — specifically, the moment Long Hao vanished from the courtyard and reappeared on a rooftop.
A shiver climbed her spine.
Until today, Murong Yuer believed Long Hao was beneath her — a pathetic fiancé forced onto her family by old agreements. Someone to be cast aside without consequence.
But the boy she saw now?
He was not someone she understood.
Or could predict.
Murong Lingtian suddenly turned toward her. "Yuer. You annulled the engagement publicly. Do you comprehend the implications?"
She straightened. "Father, he was talentless."
"Was he?" Lingtian replied sharply, pointing toward the footage. "Does that look normal to you?"
Yuer swallowed. Her voice dropped. "I… don't know what he is."
Her father's gaze hardened. "That uncertainty is a problem."
Elder Zhaoxun leaned forward. "Patriarch, the city thinks he's an anomaly. A rare irregularity. Guilds are already asking questions. They suspect the Murong Clan knows more than they've shared."
Murong Lingtian's brows creased deeply.
Another elder asked carefully, "Patriarch… should we re-establish ties with the boy? Perhaps we acted too—"
"No," Murong Yuer blurted quickly, her voice trembling despite herself. "Absolutely not."
All eyes shifted to her.
She shook her head weakly. "You didn't see his eyes. When the monsters attacked… when he moved… he was calm. Too calm. Cold."
A chill descended across the room.
"He isn't someone to approach lightly," she whispered.
"Then is he someone to fear?" an elder murmured.
Murong Lingtian didn't answer. He replayed the moment Long Hao disappeared — no light, no sound, no distortion. It was as if reality blinked.
His jaw tightened.
"If this boy seeks retribution," he said quietly, "no barrier, no guard, no servant in this clan will stop him."
A silence heavier than stone settled.
Murong Yuer felt her heart pound faster.
She broke off their engagement with pride.
Now, it felt like she had personally offended a sleeping dragon.
Murong Lingtian finally turned off the projection.
"From this moment onward," he commanded, "observe Long Hao. Do not provoke him. Do not engage. And above all—do not underestimate him again."
Yuer exhaled shakily.
The meeting adjourned.
Yet one thought followed every elder out of the hall:
What exactly was Long Hao?
And why did he move like someone who had already lived… and killed… far beyond his years?
[CHAPTER ENDS]