After the Battle
The courtyard was still buzzing. Liu Feng had been carried away, half-conscious, muttering incoherent words, his face pale as if something had been stolen from him.
Shen Lian walked off the platform in silence, his eyes calm, his steps steady. But every disciple who saw him swore they had glimpsed something impossible—black tendrils, a shadow that moved like petals, a moment where Liu Feng's body seemed to wither before snapping back to life.
Sect Master Hei Zong's scowl darkened as he rose from his seat. He motioned to Mo Xuan.
"Come," he growled.
⸻
In the Serpent Hall's Inner Chamber
The two men sat across from each other in a chamber lit by green lamps. The air reeked of crushed herbs and snake musk. Outside, the tournament continued, drums thundering, but inside it was quiet.
Hei Zong slammed his palm on the table. "You saw it, Mo Xuan! You saw the black qi crawl along his arm! You heard the whispers in the crowd. That boy—he cultivates a demonic art!"
Mo Xuan, serene as ever, sipped his tea. "Perhaps."
Hei Zong's teeth ground together. "Perhaps? Liu Feng's qi was stripped from him in an instant! What art in our Hall does this? None! It was like watching a serpent shed flesh from its prey."
Mo Xuan's smile was faint, eyes glimmering. "And yet, he won."
Hei Zong leaned forward, his voice low and dangerous. "Do you know what he did? Did you see? Or were your eyes as clouded as the rest?"
Mo Xuan set his cup down, his gaze steady. "I saw more than you. Shen Lian did not merely strike Liu Feng. He did not merely drain his qi. He pulled him into something else."
Hei Zong frowned. "Into what?"
Mo Xuan's lips curved. "Into himself."
⸻
The Hidden Truth
As the elder spoke, Hei Zong remembered the moment. The flicker of black qi. The way the air bent, like silk being pulled into water.
He had seen Liu Feng's body stiffen, his eyes go wide—not from pain, but from horror. He had seen his opponent's qi unravel like threads, sucked not into Shen Lian's palm but into a lotus of black petals that bloomed faintly in the air behind him.
It had lasted only a heartbeat. Long enough for Liu Feng to scream as though something larger than Shen Lian had taken hold of him.
Hei Zong shuddered. "A lotus… I saw it too. A shadowed bloom. That's not cultivation. That's possession."
Mo Xuan chuckled softly. "Call it what you like. But it is power. Power we have not seen in centuries."
⸻
Suspicion and Intrigue
Hei Zong slammed his hand again. "It is heresy! If the Pavilion or the Court learn we harbor a devourer, they will burn our Hall to ash!"
Mo Xuan's smile thinned. "If they learn. But they will not. You saw how the crowd doubted their own eyes. You saw how the boy held back—just enough. He knows restraint. He knows how to hide his bloom."
Hei Zong's eyes narrowed. "And you would let this continue? You would risk the Hall for your obsession?"
Mo Xuan leaned forward, his voice silk. "Tell me, Sect Master—when was the last time a disciple of Black Serpent Hall inspired fear? True fear? Not pity, not disgust, but the kind of fear that makes rivals whisper his name in the dark?"
Hei Zong was silent. His jaw worked, but no words came.
Mo Xuan's smile widened. "That boy is not our ruin. He is our weapon. A serpent sharper than any other. If he blooms fully, even the Pavilion's swords will tremble."
Hei Zong spat. "And if he blooms wrong, he'll devour us all."
Mo Xuan's eyes glittered. "Then let us see which way the lotus opens."
⸻
Cliffhanger
Outside, the drums thundered again, another fight beginning.
But inside, Sect Master Hei Zong sat in silence, staring into the green lamp flames. He saw again the shadow of the black lotus blooming behind Shen Lian, petals trembling, hungry.
He whispered under his breath, "A lotus that devours… Heaven help us all."
And Mo Xuan only smiled, sipping his tea, as if listening to the petals laugh.