A single streak of radiant light descended in the arena, and within it, the Sect Master appeared. Wearing a mask and his robes of silver and blue swaying gently, each step descending through the air as if upon invisible stairs of light.
The spectators bowed as one, an ocean of disciples bending their knees. Even the ten Supreme Elders of the Ten Peaks pressed their fists to their hearts.
"Sect Master!" Their voices rose in unison, a sound that carried through every peak of the mountain range.
On the arena floor stood Duan Liang Zheng and Duan Zi Xuan — one victorious, one defeated. Yet both straightened their backs before the man who embodied the spirit of the Duan Sect.
The Sect Master's gaze passed over the crowd, then finally settled on the two men below.
"For centuries, the Duan Sect has stood firm — not because of our blades or our cultivation alone, but because of the hearts that beat for one another. Our strength lies not only in power… but in purpose."
His eyes rested on Zi Xuan first.
"Zi Xuan, though you stand defeated today, remember this — the burden of the sect does not rest solely on the victor's shoulders. You bear the duty of an elder to guide, to protect, and to remind those who lead when they stray. The sect still needs your insight. Let not defeat dim your will."
Zi Xuan bowed deeply, the bitterness in his eyes tempered by reluctant respect.
"Zi Xuan receives the Sect Master's words."
Then the Sect Master turned to Liang Zheng.
"And you, Liang Zheng — the one who stands chosen this day. You now carry more than a title. The hearts of our disciples, the future of every branch family, and the name of Duan itself… all shall rest in your hands."
The Sect Master raised his palm, and a gleaming light appeared between his fingers — an ancient jade amulet, carved with intricate sigils that pulsed faintly with Qi. Floating beside it was a long sword with a silver scabbard, its blade engraved with runes.
"From this day forth," the Sect Master intoned, "these shall be the emblems of your authority — the Amulet of the Duan Legacy and the Verdant Spirit Sword, passed by the first Duan Patriarch."
The crowd held its breath.
Liang Zheng took a deep step forward, then another, until he stood before the Sect Master. His knees touched the arena floor, and his head lowered in solemn reverence.
"Disciple Liang Zheng of the Fragrant Herb Peak… accepts this responsibility with humility and devotion. From this day, my life, my soul, and my blood belong to the Duan Sect."
The Sect Master nodded once — a faint smile flickered at the corner of his lips. He extended the amulet, placing it in Liang Zheng's open palms. The sword descended next, its tip resting lightly on Liang Zheng's shoulder, then the other. A faint glow surged outward, a heavenly resonance echoing through the entire mountain.
"By the will of heaven, by the witness of all disciples, I name you — Sect Master Duan Liang Zheng. May your reign bring harmony and strength to our lineage."
The amulet pulsed once in Liang Zheng's hands, and the arena erupted in thunderous cheers.
"Long live the Sect Master!"
"May the Duan Sect flourish for ten thousand years!"
The peaks answered their cries, echoing through the valley like divine drums.
Arthur, from the high enclosure, stood silently beside his mother. It was a moment of pride for their family, but he felt a faint unease he couldn't name.
Below, as the cheers continued to rise, Liang Zheng rose slowly to his feet, the silver light of the sword reflecting in his eyes.
For that brief moment, he looked not like a man but a legend born.
The days that followed the ceremony passed quickly.
Arthur's father, now the Sect Master Duan Liang Zheng, had scarcely been home. From dawn until deep into the night, he was at the Sect Master's Palace, his presence required for councils, audits, and handovers.
The halls of the Alchemy Peak now echoed with greetings and bows from every disciple who crossed Arthur's path.
Those who once looked down upon him now spoke his name with practiced reverence.
Their tones were lighter, their smiles too sharp to be genuine.
Arthur understood it well — power reshapes respect.
Only Elder Yan remained unchanged. His manner toward Arthur was as steady as ever, unmoved by the winds of shifting hierarchy.
A week passed in this strange silence.
Arthur, no longer burdened by his tasks at the Alchemy Pavilion, found himself restless. The rhythm of his life had changed, yet his father's absence cast a faint unease over their home.
One evening, as he and his mother, Mei Lian, dined in their quiet courtyard, Arthur finally asked,
"Mother, what is Father being so occupied with? Even for a sect master, this seems… excessive."
Mei Lian smiled faintly, setting down her chopsticks.
"It is not unusual, Tian'er. Your father is being handed every record, every account of the sect. The Duan Sect's administration is vast — dozens of ledgers, hundreds of branches, unending matters. It will take at least a moon for him to shoulder the responsibilities fully. Until then, he must remain in the Sect Master's Palace."
Arthur nodded slowly, accepting her words.
But before either could continue their meal, a soft set of footsteps echoed from outside.
They both looked toward the doorway.
A familiar figure stepped in.
"Father?" Arthur rose at once. "You're back?"
Mei Lian stood too, surprise flashing in her eyes.
"You… Have you finished your work already? Didn't you say you would be occupied for at least a moon?"
Liang Zheng's steps were steady, but his face — his face was pale, his eyes dull as if he carried the weight of a mountain on his shoulders.
He said nothing as he joined them at the table.
Mei Lian quietly served him a portion of food.
Arthur and his mother both waited, neither daring to speak.
For a long moment, Liang Zheng stared at the bowl before him as though he had forgotten what hunger felt like. Then, he drew in a slow, weary breath.
"I… am being interrogated by the Sect Master."
The words fell like thunder in their peaceful home.
Arthur froze. Mei Lian's hand trembled, her chopsticks clattering softly against the plate.
"What?" she whispered. "What happened, dear? What is all this about?"
Liang Zheng's jaw tightened. "Zi Xuan… is in a very critical state. He's being treated by the best physicians in the Sect Master's Palace. His condition worsens by the hour."
Arthur's gaze sharpened instantly.
He already felt where this was leading.
"I," Liang Zheng continued, "along with the other eight disciples of the Ten Peaks… have been made suspects in the poisoning of Duan Zi Xuan."
There was a pin-drop silence.
Even the night wind outside seemed to hesitate.
Mei Lian pressed her lips together, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Arthur, however, leaned back slightly. His tone was calm.
"I'm confident you have nothing to do with it, Father. Perhaps… he poisoned himself. From what we know, uncle is capable of anything if it means gaining an advantage or pity."
Liang Zheng's eyes lifted toward him, weary yet steady.
"You are wrong, Tian'er… if you think he would go so far as to poison himself."
Arthur frowned. "Why so, Father?"
Liang Zheng's gaze darkened. The light from the lantern flickered across his face, deepening the shadows under his eyes.
"Because every physician agrees — if the poison's nature isn't identified soon, or if a cure isn't found… Zi Xuan will remain paralyzed for the rest of his life. Perhaps even die."
The words struck the air cold.
Arthur and Mei Lian sat motionless, the warm meal before them now forgotten.
Finally, the venom found its mark… when he bled and weakened from the battle, he thought.