The integration training session had been running for two hours when the first real conflict emerged.
Lin Feng watched from the observation platform as Liu Mei's group attempted a complex coordination exercise—simultaneous defensive formation deployment while maintaining offensive capability against multiple attack vectors. The scenario required perfect timing, philosophical consistency, and technical precision executed under sustained pressure.
Liu Mei had taken command immediately, as she always did. Her tactical assessment was sound, her formation design elegant, her coordination signals clear. But Wang Feng had hesitated twice now, his execution lagging behind her commands by critical seconds.
"Wang Feng, your timing is off," Liu Mei called out, frustration bleeding into her voice despite obvious effort to maintain composure. "We've practiced this sequence six times. You need to—"
"I need to understand why we're using cascade formation instead of layered defense," Wang Feng interrupted, his own frustration finally breaking through his characteristic reliability. "You keep issuing commands without explaining the tactical reasoning, and when timing is this tight, I can't execute effectively without understanding the underlying logic."
The training scenario continued around them, spiritual construct opponents pressing their defense while the group's coordination deteriorated. Sun Wei attempted to compensate, but the gap in their formation was too significant. Within thirty seconds, the scenario registered failure.
Silence filled the chamber as the formation deactivated.
"Cascade formation was the optimal choice for multiple attack vectors," Liu Mei said, her voice tight with controlled anger. "If you'd executed properly instead of questioning commands mid-engagement, we would have succeeded."
"If you'd explained your reasoning during planning instead of assuming everyone would simply follow your lead, I wouldn't have needed to question mid-engagement," Wang Feng shot back.
Lin Feng felt Qingxue's attention sharpen through their dao companion bond—she was observing from a different angle, tracking emotional dynamics he might miss while focused on tactical assessment. He remained silent, watching the conflict unfold naturally rather than intervening prematurely.
"We don't have time during combat for extended philosophical discussions about every tactical decision," Liu Mei said. "Effective coordination requires trust that commands are sound and execution without hesitation."
"Effective coordination requires shared understanding," Wang Feng countered. "You're treating this like a military operation where blind obedience is virtue. That's not Inverse Void Dao philosophy. That's not how Hollow Peak is supposed to function."
The other disciples in the chamber had gone very still, attention locked on the confrontation. This wasn't the manageable disagreement from weeks ago that had resolved into teaching moment. This was something sharper, more fundamental.
"I'm not demanding blind obedience," Liu Mei said, and Lin Feng heard the genuine confusion beneath her defensiveness. "I'm asking for competent execution of sound tactical plans."
"Without shared understanding of why those plans are sound," Wang Feng said. "Do you see the contradiction?"
"What I see is training sessions failing because you're prioritizing philosophical correctness over practical results."
"What I see is you prioritizing your command authority over collaborative problem-solving."
The argument was escalating, both disciples too invested in being right to recognize they were both partially correct and partially wrong. Lin Feng judged the moment had come for intervention.
"That's enough," he said, his voice cutting through the tension without rising in volume. "Both of you, step back. The rest of you, take a fifteen-minute break. Sun Wei, coordinate cooldown exercises."
Liu Mei and Wang Feng separated immediately, discipline overriding anger, but their body language remained rigid. Lin Feng descended from the observation platform, gesturing for both disciples to follow him to a smaller chamber where conversation could happen without audience.
Qingxue joined them silently, her presence a deliberate choice—two perspectives on the conflict would be more valuable than one.
"Sit," Lin Feng said, and both disciples complied, though they avoided looking at each other.
"Liu Mei, explain your tactical reasoning for cascade formation," Lin Feng began, his tone neutral. "In detail."
Liu Mei's expression showed surprise at the request, but she responded immediately. "Multiple attack vectors from different elevation angles required flexible response capability. Cascade formation allows dynamic redistribution of defensive resources based on real-time threat assessment, whereas layered defense commits resources to fixed positions. Given the opponent's demonstrated mobility, fixed positions would have been compromised within forty-five seconds."
The analysis was sophisticated and correct. Lin Feng glanced at Wang Feng, whose expression had shifted from anger toward reluctant acknowledgment.
"Wang Feng, what was your concern about cascade formation?" Lin Feng asked.
Wang Feng took a moment to organize his thoughts before responding. "I understood cascade formation was more flexible, but I didn't understand why flexibility was the priority. Layered defense is more stable and easier to coordinate. Without knowing why we were prioritizing flexibility over stability, I couldn't execute timing correctly because I was trying to maintain stability in a formation designed for flexibility."
Also a valid concern, Lin Feng noted. The conflict wasn't between right and wrong tactical approaches—it was between different types of understanding operating at cross-purposes.
"Liu Mei, why didn't you explain your reasoning during planning?"
"We had five minutes for planning phase. I assessed the tactical requirements, designed the formation, and assigned positions. There wasn't time for extended discussion."
"Wang Feng, why didn't you ask for clarification during planning phase?"
"I assumed Liu Mei's formation design was sound. I thought I'd understand the execution logic once we began. By the time I realized I didn't understand the underlying reasoning, we were already engaged and asking questions mid-scenario seemed... disruptive."
Lin Feng and Qingxue exchanged glances, a full conversation compressed into single shared look through their bond. Both disciples had made reasonable assumptions that led to unreasonable outcomes.
"Liu Mei," Qingxue said, speaking for the first time since entering the chamber, "you're technically proficient and tactically sophisticated. But you're treating group coordination as tactical execution where your role is commander and other disciples' roles are subordinates executing your strategy. That works in conventional sect hierarchies. It doesn't work in a sect founded on Inverse Void Dao principles."
Liu Mei's jaw tightened, but she didn't interrupt.
"Wang Feng," Lin Feng continued, "you're correct that shared understanding is philosophically important. But you're treating tactical scenarios as philosophical exercises where understanding takes precedence over results. That works in abstract discussions. It doesn't work in situations where execution timing is critical."
Wang Feng nodded slowly, his earlier defensiveness fading into something more reflective.
"Both of you are applying valid principles inappropriately," Lin Feng said. "The question isn't whether tactical efficiency or philosophical consistency matters more. The question is how to integrate both in contexts where they're in tension."
"How do we do that?" Liu Mei asked, frustration still evident but now directed at the problem rather than at Wang Feng.
"Start by recognizing that your natural approaches are different and both have value," Qingxue said. "Liu Mei, you see tactical patterns quickly and design elegant solutions efficiently. That's genuine strength. Wang Feng, you need conceptual understanding before execution feels natural. That's also genuine strength. The conflict arises when Liu Mei assumes everyone processes tactical information the way she does, and when Wang Feng assumes philosophical understanding can be prioritized over execution timing."
"So what's the solution?" Wang Feng asked.
"There isn't a single solution," Lin Feng said, deliberately invoking Inverse Void Dao philosophy. "Different situations require different balances between explanation and execution. In scenarios with generous planning time, Liu Mei needs to explain her tactical reasoning even when it feels obvious to her. In scenarios with compressed planning time, Wang Feng needs to trust that questions can be addressed after execution rather than requiring understanding before action."
"How do we know which approach to use?" Liu Mei asked.
"Experience," Qingxue said simply. "You'll make mistakes—prioritizing explanation when you should prioritize execution, or vice versa. You'll learn from those mistakes and gradually develop better judgment about which approach different situations require."
"But that means we'll fail scenarios while we're learning," Wang Feng said.
"Yes," Lin Feng confirmed. "Training scenarios exist so you can fail safely and learn from those failures. The alternative is pretending you've already mastered integration between tactical execution and philosophical consistency, then discovering your limitations in situations where failure isn't safe."
Both disciples sat with that for a long moment.
"I owe you an apology," Liu Mei said finally, meeting Wang Feng's eyes. "I was treating you like an incompetent subordinate when the actual problem was that I hadn't explained reasoning you needed to execute effectively."
"I owe you an apology as well," Wang Feng responded. "I questioned your command authority in front of the group instead of raising concerns during planning phase or requesting private discussion afterward."
The apologies were genuine, Lin Feng noted with satisfaction. Not performative gestures to satisfy authority figures, but actual recognition of mistake and accountability.
"Both of you just demonstrated something more valuable than perfect scenario execution," Qingxue observed. "You recognized your mistakes, acknowledged them clearly, and took responsibility without deflecting or making excuses. That's harder than it sounds and more important than most people realize."
"Next integration session," Lin Feng said, "you'll work together again deliberately. Same type of coordination exercise, similar time pressure. But this time, Liu Mei will explicitly practice explaining tactical reasoning concisely, and Wang Feng will explicitly practice executing without requiring complete understanding first. You'll both be uncomfortable, which means you'll both be developing capabilities that don't come naturally."
Neither disciple looked enthusiastic about that prospect, but both nodded acceptance.
"Go join the others for cooldown exercises," Lin Feng said. "When training resumes in twenty minutes, I'll be rotating group assignments. Different challenges for different combinations."
After Liu Mei and Wang Feng departed, Lin Feng turned to Qingxue. "Your assessment?"
"Productive conflict," she said immediately. "They're both growing, and this confrontation will accelerate that growth if we handle follow-up correctly. But we need to monitor whether this creates lingering resentment or whether it resolves into genuine collaborative improvement."
"Xiao Ling is tracking interpersonal dynamics across the cohort," Lin Feng said. "She'll flag problems before they compound into serious issues."
"Speaking of which," Qingxue said, pulling up a communication tablet, "she sent a message fifteen minutes ago requesting private discussion about cohort patterns she's observing. Nothing urgent, but concerns she wants to address before they become urgent."
Lin Feng felt the familiar tension between immediate training demands and longer-term strategic planning. "After this session concludes. I don't want to step away while the cohort is still processing conflict between two of their most prominent members."
Qingxue nodded understanding. "I'll let her know we'll meet this evening."
The remainder of the integration session proceeded without major incident, though Lin Feng noticed subtle shifts in group dynamics. Disciples who worked with Liu Mei were more deferential, perhaps worried about triggering similar confrontation. Disciples who worked with Wang Feng seemed to over-explain their reasoning, compensating for the earlier conflict.
Not ideal, but understandable. The cohort needed time to metabolize the confrontation and recognize it hadn't resulted in catastrophic relationship rupture.
During the final cooldown phase, Lin Feng gathered everyone together.
"What you witnessed today between Liu Mei and Wang Feng," he said, addressing the tension directly rather than pretending it hadn't happened, "is normal for group development. You're twenty-six individuals with different backgrounds, different developmental patterns, and different natural approaches to cultivation. Sometimes those differences create conflict. The question isn't whether conflict occurs—it's how you handle conflict when it arises."
He paused, making eye contact with disciples across the chamber.
"Liu Mei and Wang Feng had a genuine disagreement about how to coordinate effectively. They argued, they were both partially right and partially wrong, they acknowledged their mistakes, and they're committed to working together more effectively going forward. That's healthy conflict resolution. What would be unhealthy is either avoiding all disagreement because you're worried about making mistakes, or letting disagreements escalate into personal resentment instead of addressing underlying problems."
Sun Wei raised his hand, and Lin Feng gestured for him to speak.
"How do we know the difference between healthy disagreement and destructive conflict?"
"Healthy disagreement focuses on problems and solutions," Qingxue answered. "Destructive conflict focuses on blame and defense. Healthy disagreement assumes good faith—that the other person has valid concerns even if you disagree about how to address them. Destructive conflict assumes bad faith—that the other person is trying to undermine you or assert dominance."
"Liu Mei and I were approaching destructive territory," Wang Feng said quietly. "If Sect Leader and Elder Yun hadn't intervened, we might have escalated further."
"Possibly," Lin Feng acknowledged. "Which is why intervention happened when it did. As you develop better judgment about conflict dynamics, you'll learn to recognize when you're moving from healthy disagreement toward destructive conflict, and you'll adjust before intervention becomes necessary. But that's a learned skill, not something you should expect to master immediately."
The session concluded shortly after, disciples dispersing toward their quarters with visible fatigue. Integration training was proving more demanding than standard technical or philosophical instruction, exactly as Lin Feng had expected.
He found Xiao Ling waiting near the dimensional chamber exit, her expression suggesting the patterns she wanted to discuss were indeed worth immediate attention.
"Walk with me," Lin Feng said, gesturing toward the quieter corridors of the dimensional headquarters. Qingxue joined them, forming a triangle of conversation as they moved through the carefully constructed spaces.
"I've been tracking interpersonal dynamics across the cohort," Xiao Ling began without preamble, pulling up her ever-present documentation tablets. "Three patterns are emerging that concern me."
"Go on," Lin Feng said.
"First, there's a forming hierarchy based on technical capability. Liu Mei, Sun Wei, and three of the alliance-backed disciples are being treated as informal leaders by others. That's natural given their competence, but it's creating subtle deference that might interfere with collaborative development."
"I've noticed that," Qingxue confirmed. "Some disciples hesitate to disagree with Liu Mei even when they have valid concerns."
"Second," Xiao Ling continued, "there's separation forming between disciples who came from sects versus independent cultivators. Nothing hostile, but distinct social clustering. Sect-trained disciples share common reference points and training backgrounds. Independent cultivators have more varied experiences but less shared context."
Lin Feng frowned. "That could become problematic if it hardens into factional division."
"Third, and most concerning," Xiao Ling said, her voice taking on extra emphasis, "Li Chen is becoming somewhat isolated. Not actively excluded, but other disciples aren't seeking him out for collaboration. I think they perceive his philosophical sophistication as making him unapproachable, or they're worried about seeming inadequate by comparison."
That observation landed with particular weight given Lin Feng's recent conversation with Li Chen about developmental patterns and comparison.
"Recommendations?" Lin Feng asked.
"For the hierarchy issue, deliberately assign leadership roles in training scenarios to disciples who aren't naturally dominant. Give quieter, less technically advanced disciples explicit authority in specific contexts. That forces recognition that leadership is contextual rather than fixed."
"For the sect versus independent division, create mixed working groups for non-training activities. Assign sect-trained disciples and independent cultivators as partners for projects that require extended collaboration on equal footing."
"And for Li Chen specifically?" Qingxue asked.
"Create opportunities for him to demonstrate value in low-pressure contexts where his philosophical insight isn't intimidating. Maybe have him lead informal discussion sessions about conceptual topics. Let other disciples experience him as helpful resource rather than comparison point that makes them feel inadequate."
Lin Feng absorbed all three recommendations, his tactical mind already adapting training structures to accommodate Xiao Ling's observations.
"Implement all three approaches," he decided. "Start with mixed working groups for the documentation project—disciples need to help organize and refine curriculum materials anyway. That creates natural collaboration opportunities outside combat contexts."
"I'll draft partnership assignments tonight," Xiao Ling said. "Balanced for skill level, background diversity, and personality compatibility."
After Xiao Ling departed to begin her organizational work, Lin Feng and Qingxue continued walking through the dimensional headquarters in silence.
"Building a cultivation sect is more complicated than I anticipated," Lin Feng admitted.
"You're not just teaching techniques and philosophy," Qingxue said. "You're creating a community where twenty-six different people learn to function as coherent organization while preserving their individual identities. That's inherently messy."
"Messy but necessary."
"Messy and valuable," Qingxue corrected. "The difficulties you're encountering now are the growing pains of genuine community formation. If everything felt smooth and effortless, that would actually concern me more—it would suggest surface harmony without real integration."
Lin Feng recognized the wisdom in that perspective, even as his tactical instincts wanted to optimize away the messiness and establish perfect coordination immediately.
"Accepting contradiction rather than forcing resolution," he murmured. "Even when the contradiction is between the community I'm trying to build and the inevitable friction of building it."
"Especially then," Qingxue agreed.
The dimensional starlight overhead continued its subtle patterns, marking time through changes too gradual to perceive in single moments but undeniable across sustained observation. Lin Feng watched the light shift and thought about patience, about development, about the gap between vision and execution.
Hollow Peak Sect was taking shape, but that shape included fractures and tensions alongside strengths and capabilities. Perhaps that was its own form of philosophical consistency—accepting that building something genuine meant working with contradiction rather than pretending it didn't exist.
He could accept that.
He had to.