Riven's gaze lingered on the platform even after the Silk Dominion girl had walked off.
That fight had shown him a lot.
Not just about the assassins —
But the sects themselves.
The Black Widow Pavilion disciples had fought with cruel, clinical sharpness. Every movement tight, clean, aimed directly for the throat. Not a hint of wasted effort.
The Silk Dominion, on the other hand, had been a mess.
Except for the pigtailed girl, none of them seemed to actually know how to fight. Their footwork was clumsy, reactions slow, attacks telegraphed.
But they didn't crumble instantly.
They had something to rely on as well.
Their wealth.
Expensive gear. Layered defenses. Trinkets that bought them time, space, safety.
Trying to tilt the odds with coin.
That was their identity.
He could see it clearly now.
Every sect had one.
Assassins. Wealth. Ghostly arrays.
And then there was them.
Riven frowned slightly and muttered under his breath.
"…Then what's ours?"
Mei caught it.
"You mean," she said, glancing sideways, "because they all have clear identities? Assassins, merchants, gravekeepers. And you're wondering what ours is?"
He nodded.
Then paused. "Wait—merchants and gravekeepers?"
"Yup," Mei replied easily. "Silk Dominion has a huge merchant guild. Outside their cultivation stuff, they run stores and caravans in most major cities. Trade routes, auctions, artifact commissions — all that."
Riven's gaze sharpened.
They had shops in most cities?
That meant they had maps. Travel records. Merchant logs.
If he could get in touch with them after this banquet…
Maybe he wouldn't have to wait six months for the auction after all.
His fingers curled instinctively as he glanced toward the Silk Dominion's table. If they had maps...
But Mei just kept going.
"Graveweaver Court runs funerary rites. Helps cultivators secure a resting place after death — or helps families find the bones of someone who vanished in the wilds. You'll sometimes see them working battlefields after wars."
Riven raised an eyebrow.
That explained their ghostly aesthetic.
Mei smiled faintly. "And us?"
He nodded again.
"Elder Syen told you about the Green Lotus cover, right?"
He had.
The Green Lotus Sect — a decently well-regarded, mid-tier alchemy faction known for medicine and pill refinement. That was the official face.
"Alchemy. Herb cultivation. Pill crafting," Mei said. "At least on the surface."
"…On the surface?"
She tilted her head slightly. "That's not our true strength."
Her voice dropped a touch.
"Our real specialty is poison."
Riven blinked.
"But that only really starts once you reach the Inner Condensation Realm and become an Inner Disciple," she added. "Which means you should know about it — but…" She gave him a side glance. "I heard since you just joined, you were supposed to learn the basics first. Your master will probably tell you more soon."
He frowned.
The basics?
He'd mostly just learned how to fight properly.
Thinking about it... yeah.
Okay. That made sense.
"Survival," Mei said simply. "Positioning. Movement. Opportunism. That's what the sect teaches early on. If you rely on poison, your job isn't to end fights instantly. Your job is to survive long enough for the poison to do its work."
That… made sense.
His fingers brushed against his sleeve, where his needles were hidden.
Poison, huh.
His weapon probably fit the sect way more than he'd thought.
But then again—
Why did people in the sect treat them like a girl's weapon?
They were fast. Concealable. Precise.
And seemed perfect for delivering poison.
Shouldn't they be more common?
Something about that didn't sit right.
He shook his head.
It didn't matter what others thought.
They were perfect for him.
He could have his hand free while still having the threat of a weapon.
Especially since qi didn't seem to play as big of a role in fights as he'd initially thought.
Sure, everyone used it. But mostly just to amplify things — a bit more speed, a bit more power. Basic enhancements. Nothing fancy.
Besides the occasional flash of reinforcement, he'd only really seen three unique uses of qi so far in this whole tournament.
And they'd stood out.
The first was the white-haired girl from Graveweaver Court.
Her knife hadn't just hit hard — it had cut deep, even through a reinforced dagger. That wasn't the kind of effect you got from a simple qi boost.
The more he thought about it, the more it bugged him.
He could amplify force with martial arts or boost momentum with something like Falconburst Kick. But sharpness?
That was different.
That wasn't just applying qi — it was shaping it.
The second was more subtle — the strange, creeping black mark left by the scarred assassin's dagger.
It hadn't cut the pigtailed girl. Not really.
But it had left something behind.
Some kind of spreading darkness.
Riven didn't know what it did exactly, but he didn't have to be a genius to know it wasn't anything good.
And the third… was the pigtailed girl herself.
Her qi trap.
A slip of qi left on the floor that turned the wood slippery for a split second.
Riven hadn't even realized she'd done it until it activated.
All three were clever. Tactical. And none of them would've worked if you didn't have enough spare qi.
Because that was the thing.
They were still early in their cultivation paths.
Most disciples didn't have the reserves to waste qi freely — so instead, they focused on simple, repeatable moves. Or just grinding out their realms.
Only now, at the late stage of the Inner Essence Realm, was that starting to change. You had a litte more qi.
To the point where qi could be used for more than just hitting harder or moving faster.
He glanced at his hand.
There was one skill he'd been practicing recently.
One technique.
He'd finally got around to learning it after the Newbie's Trial.
And if it worked like it had in training—
He smiled faintly to himself.
Maybe he'd get the chance to test it in this upcoming match.
He wondered how he'd fare against someone in the Inner Condensation Realm.
"Let's start the next match! Graveweaver Court versus Venomthread Sect!"
The elders voice marked the end of the break.
Riven rose with the others and walked toward the platform, the faint tension of another fight settling over the atmosphere again.
The Graveweaver Court disciples approached from the opposite side — led, once more, by the white-haired girl in red. She looked no worse for wear now, standing tall with her pale hair tied high and her eyes steady.
As they reached the center, Riven's gaze drifted toward the overseeing elder.
Riven braced himself for the familiar sequence — the skeletal arrays, the pearls, the eerie apparitions crawling up through the floor.
But then the elder paused.
He wasn't looking at the disciples.
He was looking at their sect table.
Riven followed his gaze.
It landed on—
Mei?
Still seated neatly next to Elder Syen.
Still the most absurdly dressed person at the entire banquet.
Short sleeves. Flared skirt. Fitted leggings. A color palette of pale pink and cloud-white that clashed so hard with the subdued blacks and greys of every other sect it was almost impressive.
Riven had gotten used to it somehow — but now, watching her from a distance next to the solemn, raven-robed Elder Syen…
It really did look kind of ridiculous.
And then, Mei nodded.
Barely a tilt of her chin.
The Graveweaver elder turned away as if that was enough.
His eyes landed on his sects disciple, the girl in red.