The Main Hall of the sect was wrapped in silence, heavy and suffocating. The towering pillars carved with dragons and phoenixes seemed to lean in, listening to the storm of emotions rippling among the disciples and elders. Murmurs of disbelief flickered through the crowd like sparks. Eyes widened, brows furrowed, mouths hung open. Confusion and shock stained every face.
At the center, Shaurya stood motionless, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and curiosity. His sharp eyes scanned the hall, flickering with uncertainty. Beside him, the City Lord's face was unreadable—perplexed yet restrained. And opposite them, Tian Long stood tall, his golden robes gleaming under the dim light of the lanterns, a bright, knowing smile carved across his face.
Shaurya tilted his head slightly, breaking the silence with a question that echoed through the hall.
