Kelvin set his empty glass down on the table.
The faint clink of glass against polished wood was almost lost beneath the soft music. Outside the wide windows, the city lights of Verdant Dawn flickered endlessly, cars gliding past, holographic adverts looping, people moving in steady streams like veins carrying blood through a living organism.
"This city feels noisy today," Kelvin said calmly.
His voice wasn't loud, yet it carried weight. It wasn't a complaint, more like an observation, the kind made by someone used to standing above the crowd and looking down at patterns instead of individuals.
Dean snorted, lifting his glass and taking a lazy sip.
"Of course it is…the exam is just one day away," he replied. "Everyone's anxious or desperate."
Kelvin hummed in agreement but didn't look at him. His gaze drifted toward the window, past the luxury glass and into the sprawl of Verdant Dawn itself. From this height, the city looked beautiful, orderly, bright, thriving.
But Kelvin had long since learned that beauty often hid instability.
"And somewhere," he said softly, almost to himself, "new variables are entering the board." Dean paused mid-sip.
He followed Kelvin's gaze, eyes narrowing slightly as he looked out at the city. At first glance, everything looked the same. The same traffic routes. The same districts divided neatly by status and access. The same familiar rhythm of life.
But something was different.
He felt it too.
"There have been changes," Dean said after a moment.
Kelvin didn't respond.
"It's already been approved," Dean continued, "The schools are being merged, More interaction between men and women." He scoffed lightly. "They're calling it 'progress.'"
Kelvin's fingers tapped once against the table.
"That alone wouldn't be enough to cause this much unrest," he said.
Dean nodded. "Exactly."
On the surface, the decision made sense. The world was changing. Beast tides were growing more frequent. Borders were becoming unstable. Cooperation between cultivators, regardless of gender was no longer optional.
Every policy had layers.
Every reform hid an agenda.
"People feel it," Dean said. "They just don't know what they're reacting to. So they panic, They cling to opportunity like it's the last lifeboat."
Kelvin's reflection stared back at him from the glass, calm, composed, unreadable.
"Do you think the people in power know what's coming?" Dean asked.
Kelvin didn't answer immediately.
"Of course they do," he said at last. "They always do."
The silence that followed was heavier than before.
If the schools were merging, it meant the old structures were no longer sufficient. If interactions were being forced, it meant isolation had become a weakness. And if the next semester was being set up this way…
Then something was wrong.
Something big.
Something the public wasn't ready to hear.
Dean exhaled slowly. "This coming semester is going to be eventful."
Kelvin's lips curved not quite a smile.
"…Maybe," he said.
Outside, the lights of Verdant Dawn burned brighter than ever as everyone prepares for the exam…
Far away from Verdant Dawn, beyond its lively streets and restless anticipation, another city slept under a colder sky.
High above its glowing skyline, in a tall building sat a study, polished marble reflected soft white lighting, transparent screens floated in the air displaying streams of data, and sleek furniture crafted from rare alloys filled the space with quiet luxury.
It looked more like the private office of a corporate magnate than the domain of a cultivator.
Near a floor-to-ceiling glass window stood a woman.
She held a glass of red wine loosely in one hand, watching the city below as if it belonged to her. The lights reflected in the glass, breaking into crimson fragments that danced across her fingers. With a single glance, anyone would know, this was a woman accustomed to command. Her posture was relaxed, but there was nothing soft about her presence. Power clung to her like a second skin, behind her, the room was silent.
On the opposite side of the study sat another female, much younger sixteen, or maybe seventeen. She sat with perfect posture, elegant and composed, the pride of someone born into wealth and authority woven into every small movement. Her long fingers turned the pages of a glossy magazine slowly, unhurriedly, as though the world had all the time in the universe to wait for her.
A shadow slipped into the room.
Not through the door.
It rose from the floor itself, stretching and warping like living smoke before condensing into a kneeling figure. Draped in a black hooded cloak, its face was hidden, its presence muted. It dropped to one knee, head bowed, and remained still.
Waiting.
The woman by the window took another sip of her wine, savoring it. She didn't turn around immediately. She let the silence stretch, thick and uncomfortable, until it pressed down on the kneeling figure like weight.
Finally, she spoke.
"So?"
Her voice was calm.
Too calm.
The shadow stiffened. "We… couldn't find the body."
The glass shattered against the marble floor.
The sound rang sharp and violent as crimson liquid splashed outward like spilled blood. The woman turned slowly, fury flashing across her face.
In the light, her features were finally revealed.
A deep, jagged scar ran from her forehead down to her jaw, cutting across half her face as though something feral had once tried and failed to rip it apart. The scar twisted when she scowled, making her expression even more terrifying.
"What do you mean you couldn't find the body?" she demanded, voice low and dangerous. "I cultivated her for a reason."
She stepped closer to the shadow, heels clicking softly against the floor.
"Now you tell me she's gone?" Her lips curled. "Useless."
The word landed like a blade.
"Find her" she snapped.
She turned away sharply, stalking back to the massive desk at the center of the room and dropping into the chair behind it, fingers gripping the armrest tightly.
"Yes…" the shadow whispered.
Then it vanished, dissolving back into darkness as if it had never been there.
Throughout it all, the younger girl hadn't reacted.
She continued flipping through her magazine, expression serene, eyes unfocused as though broken glass and rage-filled threats were nothing more than background noise.
Only when the room fell quiet again did she look up.
She placed the magazine neatly on the table and leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs with practiced elegance.
"You don't have to bother yourself, Mother," she said calmly. Her voice was smooth, almost bored. "If she's alive, she'll show up at the academy exams."
The woman at the desk looked up slowly.
The girl continued, unbothered. "I just completed my breakthrough to the first level of Foundation Establishment." Her lips curved slightly. "She doesn't stand a chance."
For the first time that night, the woman smiled.
The scar across her face twisted with it, making the expression unsettling beautiful…and monstrous all at once, She watched her daughter closely.
"I'm going to bed," the girl said, standing gracefully. "School resumes in four days. I need to make sure my concubines don't feel neglected."
She spoke as if discussing an everyday chore.
The woman shook her head faintly as she watched her daughter leave. who knew her daughter was this twisted but her calm exterior and beautiful face won't make people think of her in that way, more less in that situation, Even she, as a mother, felt a chill sometimes, But was also proud of her.
Her daughter was a genius. A true one, and geniuses deserved the best, it doesn't matter how or the process.
She needs to get that core, that fire core for her daughter.
She lifted her gaze, eyes hardening.
"get people ready for that exam." she said coldly,
"You heard your young miss" she continued. "She will appear."
Her fingers curled slowly.
"…and I want that fire core in my hands in two days."