In preparation for the upcoming disciple evaluation, the sect had organized trial battles for all the disciples. It wasn't compulsory, at least not for everyone. For disciples with masters, they needed to partake, but for others without masters, they could partake in the trials if they wanted.
The arena of the sect stretched wide like a carved basin of stone, its walls rising in layered tiers filled with disciples dressed in varying uniforms, outer, inner, and core. Murmurs filled the air like a restless tide, excitement, tension, and anticipation blending into something electric.
Above them, seated on elevated platforms, the elders observed in silence, and at the center of it all stood a single figure.
Elder Hakar.
His presence alone was enough to quiet the entire arena without him saying a word. His long robes fluttered faintly despite the still air, and his sharp eyes swept across the crowd like a blade.
"Silence."
