The muffled drip of water was the first sound Edran heard. His eyes opened to dim light filtering through paper-paneled windows. A dull ache radiated through his limbs, and when he tried to sit up, his ribs protested sharply.
"Infirmary…" His voice was hoarse.
The air was thick with the smell of medicinal herbs. Rows of low beds lined the walls, each occupied by injured competitors, their pale faces hidden behind layers of gauze. A white-robed healer walked past, glancing at him before hurrying to another patient.
I survived…
He exhaled slowly, memory flooding back—the clash of Qi, Kael's sudden breakthrough into Early Foundation Establishment, the crushing pressure that nearly shattered his defenses. And then… the heat in his veins. The pulse of something ancient. Golden light in his vision, a roar that wasn't his own.
The Dragon Vein.
It hadn't been a choice. It had awakened by itself, answering his desperation. But even thinking about it now, he felt an undercurrent of fear. The power had been intoxicating—dangerously so.
A shadow moved near his bed.
"You woke faster than expected."
Edran turned his head. Ryn stood there, arms folded. Her eyes held a rare seriousness, though relief softened her tone.
"You almost died out there."
"I noticed," he said dryly, though his voice cracked.
She hesitated. "Whatever happened in that fight… it wasn't normal. The pressure you released—some of the Foundation cultivators watching said it felt like standing in front of an apex predator."
Edran stayed silent. He wasn't ready to explain. Not to her. Not yet.
From the next bed, a groggy voice cut in. "You should've seen the crowd afterward. Half of them think you're some hidden master's disciple. The other half think you're cursed."
It was Lio, still wrapped in bandages from his semifinal match.
Edran gave him a sidelong glance. "And you? Which half are you in?"
"The cursed one," Lio replied, smirking despite the wince it caused him. "Makes for a better story."
A healer approached, placing a jade slip against Edran's wrist. "Your meridians are stable but strained. Do not attempt cultivation for three days. Your dantian shows signs of irregular Qi fluctuation."
Edran nodded, though the warning only deepened his thoughts. Irregular Qi… from the Dragon Vein?
Outside the infirmary, murmurs of students filtered in—the finals had already ended, with his narrow victory the most talked-about event. He could almost feel the attention pressing against the walls, like a tide waiting to see if he'd emerge.
---
Far from the Academy of Crowns
In a cavern lit by pale, floating crystals, two figures stood before a massive stone table. One was tall and robed in black silk, their face hidden behind a mask shaped like the crescent moon. The other knelt—a man with hawk-like eyes and a scar running from temple to jaw.
The kneeling man spoke first, voice low and controlled.
"You summoned me, my lord?"
The masked figure's voice was a whisper that seemed to seep into the stone itself. "You felt it too."
"Yes," the man replied. "A ripple in the flow. Ancient. Bestial. It came from the Academy's arena."
"Dragon Qi," the masked one murmured. "Dormant for centuries, now stirring in the blood of a boy."
The man's eyes narrowed. "What are your orders?"
"Watch him. Learn his patterns. But do not act yet. If the Dragon Vein fully awakens, his value will outweigh his threat. For now, he remains a pawn we can steer."
The man inclined his head. "Understood. And the kingdom?"
A pause. "Continue the plan. The cracks are widening. Soon, the Golden Serpent Alliance will make its move."
The man rose, bowing with precision. "I will see it done."
"Good," the masked figure said softly, stepping back into the shadows until only their voice remained. "And remember, Veyth—if you fail, you will not see the moon again."
Veyth, newly named, allowed himself a faint smile. "I do not fail."
---
Back at the Academy
By the time the healers left him to rest, Edran's thoughts were already turning to the next step. He'd won the finals, but at a cost—his body bore the price of forcing out a power he barely understood.
Through the open window, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the infirmary floor. Somewhere in those shadows, he imagined unseen eyes watching.
And though he didn't know it yet, he wasn't wrong.