Morning sun spilled across the training grounds, staining the stone tiles gold. The air hummed with anticipation—today marked the first sparring test for the new initiates.
Rows of youths lined the edge of the courtyard, restless energy rippling through them. Some bounced on their heels, eager to prove themselves. Others shifted nervously, glancing at the instructors who stood like hawks at the sidelines.
Kaelen stood near the end of the line, expression unreadable. His plain robes hung loosely, his stance relaxed, almost disinterested. Yet within his Soul Palace, the serpent pressed against its half-shed husk, scales gleaming faint silver.
The instructor barked, "These duels will decide initial rankings. Rankings mean resources. Resources mean survival. Show us your control and resolve—or be crushed beneath those who have it."
Cheers and jeers rose from the crowd.
The first matches were called. Spectral beasts materialized—flaming hounds snapping at the air, falcons diving and shrieking. Stone cracked beneath heavy paws. Dust clouded as fists and claws clashed.
Victors roared. Defeated groaned.
Kaelen's turn came too soon.
"Kaelen, step forward."
He moved calmly into the ring, meeting the instructor's cold gaze. Across from him stepped a tall boy with a smug grin—the same sharp-eyed youth who had whispered threats in the dormitory. His name, Kaelen recalled now, was Joren.
Joren's serpent manifested instantly: a vibrant green viper, its scales shimmering like polished jade. Gasps rippled through the watching initiates.
"A mid-tier spirit already!"
"Look at that shine—he'll climb fast."
"No way the grey snake can match that."
Kaelen let the laughter roll over him.
His turn. He raised a hand, and with deliberate slowness, allowed the faint grey serpent to slither into view. It was still translucent, its outline blurred. The mockery was immediate.
"Pathetic!"
"Why even bother calling that out?"
"Grey snake, grey fate."
Joren smirked. "I told you, doomed dogs bite hardest. But this time, I'll break your teeth before you get the chance."
The instructor gave a curt nod. "Begin."
Joren struck first, fast and vicious. His serpent lunged, fangs bared, aura flaring. Kaelen sidestepped neatly, weight shifting as if he had anticipated every motion. His grey serpent slithered aside, movements oddly smooth despite its faintness.
Again Joren pressed, his viper snapping with venomous precision. Kaelen parried—not with force, but with flow. He shifted just out of reach, minimal effort, eyes calm.
The crowd jeered.
"He's just running!"
"Coward!"
"No spirit, no spine!"
But the instructor's sharp eyes narrowed. He saw what they did not—the precision of Kaelen's steps, the timing of his dodges, the subtle circulation of Qi guiding every movement.
Joren grew frustrated. His serpent struck harder, fangs grazing Kaelen's sleeve. The jade scales flashed in the sun, dazzling.
Kaelen breathed deeply, calling on Spectral Meridian Insight. Lines of energy flared in his vision—Joren's Qi pathways lit up like rivers. Kaelen traced the flow, memorizing the rhythm.
Then he moved.
His grey serpent, faint and mocked, lashed suddenly with startling speed. Its body coiled around Joren's viper, not crushing but binding. For a breath, the two spirits locked.
Kaelen stepped forward, palm striking Joren's chest—not enough to wound, just enough to unbalance.
Joren stumbled back, eyes wide.
Gasps cut through the courtyard.
The instructor raised a hand. "Enough."
Joren's serpent slithered free, scales bristling. His face twisted with anger, but he bowed stiffly. Kaelen, too, inclined his head without expression.
The rankings were recorded. Kaelen's name sat low, near the bottom—but not at the very end. His faint serpent had survived, even pressed back against a mid-tier.
The crowd muttered. Some sneered louder than ever. Others fell silent, unease creeping in.
Joren glared at Kaelen, eyes burning. "This isn't over."
Kaelen returned to the line, his face still calm. Inside, the serpent shed another layer. Its scales glimmered brighter in the darkness of his Soul Palace, silver flashing beneath the ash.
Pain seared through him, sharp enough to make his breath catch. But he bore it in silence.
The mocking voices around him blurred into nothing.
Only one thought echoed in his mind: They see a husk. They don't see the fangs hidden beneath.
And in the shadows of his Soul Palace, the serpent hissed, low and hungry.