The sect was restless.
The day after the trial, disciples gathered in whispers, their voices low but burning with envy and fear.
"He broke the bindings of heaven itself."
"So what? He's still rootless. Without the sect, he's nothing."
"If he thinks he can stand above us… let's see how long he survives."
Among them, one voice stood louder than the rest—
Kael, an inner disciple known for his pride and ruthlessness, eyes like steel and fists like iron. His family's influence stretched deep into the sect.
"The elders may hesitate," Kael spat, "but I will not. I'll drag that rootless stray from his throne of arrogance and crush him beneath my heel."
---
The Challenge
Arhaan was still recovering, seated cross-legged in his quarters, his wounds slowly knitting as his crimson-gold chains pulsed faintly within. The taste of the trial still lingered—blood, fire, and defiance.
The door slammed open.
Kael strode in, his aura burning like a furnace, disciples trailing behind him to witness.
"Arhaan!" Kael barked, voice echoing against the walls.
"You think breaking heaven's bindings makes you untouchable? You're nothing but a stray who stumbled on power you don't deserve. Face me—now!"
Arhaan lifted his gaze, weary but unshaken.
"I've no interest in your pride games."
Kael's lips curled in a sneer.
"Then I'll beat you where you sit, and everyone will see you're just a cripple clinging to scraps!"
---
The Clash
Kael lunged, his fist glowing with condensed qi, the air crackling from sheer force.
Arhaan barely raised a hand, his chains sluggish from exhaustion. The impact blasted him through the wall, splinters flying as his body skidded across the training yard outside. Gasps erupted from the onlookers.
"Even after the trial… he's this weak?"
"No… look at his eyes. He's holding back."
Arhaan stood, blood dripping from his lip, crimson-gold chains flickering faintly at his wrists.
"I told you," he said quietly, his voice cold.
"I'm not here for your games. But if you insist…"
The chains snapped forward like vipers.