The Black Lotus Sanctuary...
Far to the west of the Gardenia Empire...
Beyond the Crimson Marshes and the Blackwood Forest...
A mountain pierced the heavens like a sharpened blade.
Its cliffs were almost vertical, shrouded in perpetual mist.
At its summit stood an ancient fortress of black stone.
The Black Lotus Sanctuary.
One of the most feared organizations within the Melika Realm.
An organization that accepted only the abandoned...
The unwanted...
Or those stolen from the world.
Here...
Compassion was weakness.
Mercy was foolishness.
Strength was law.
---
Within the outer training grounds...
Dozens of children stood in neat rows.
Each carried a wooden sword stained with old blood.
A stern middle-aged instructor walked before them.
His left eye was covered by a scar.
His voice was cold.
"Today..."
"You will challenge one another."
"The winner eats."
"The loser fasts."
No one protested.
No one questioned the order.
They simply bowed.
"Yes, Instructor."
---
Cassian stood quietly among them.
His expression remained calm.
Months had passed since he received the invitation to the Grand Academy.
He had hidden it carefully beneath a loose stone inside his room.
It had become...
His only hope.
---
"Begin!"
Wooden swords collided throughout the courtyard.
Children charged one another without hesitation.
Some fought desperately.
Others fought with fear.
Cassian simply watched.
His opponent rushed forward recklessly.
A downward slash.
Too obvious.
Cassian stepped aside.
His wooden sword gently tapped the other's wrist.
The weapon slipped free.
Before the boy could react...
The tip of Cassian's sword rested against his throat.
"Winner."
The instructor announced without emotion.
---
The defeated boy lowered his head.
"I'm sorry."
Cassian quietly extended his hand.
"Get up."
The boy froze.
Helping an opponent?
That never happened inside the Sanctuary.
After a brief hesitation...
He accepted.
---
The instructor noticed everything.
His lone eye narrowed.
"Compassion..."
He muttered.
"...will become his greatest weakness."
---
High above the courtyard...
Several elders observed the training.
Each wore black robes embroidered with silver lotus petals.
On the highest platform stood an elderly man with snow-white hair tied neatly behind his back.
Unlike the others...
His eyes carried neither warmth nor cruelty.
Only calculation.
"The child improves."
One elder nodded.
"He defeated every opponent using only three movements."
"His comprehension exceeds expectations."
Another elder frowned.
"Yet he still refuses to injure his opponents."
The old man remained silent.
Finally...
He spoke.
"What rank?"
A woman beside him answered immediately.
"Outer Disciple."
"Cultivation: Apprentice Third Level."
"Assessment: Excellent talent."
"Temperament..."
She hesitated.
"...Unsuitable."
The old man nodded.
"Continue observing."
---
Within the Black Lotus Sanctuary...
Ranks were absolute.
Outer Disciple.
Inner Disciple.
Core Disciple.
Elite Disciple.
True Disciple.
Elder.
Grand Elder.
Hall Master.
Vice Sanctuary Master.
Sanctuary Master.
Each rank required not only contribution...
But strength.
A weak Elder could never command strong disciples.
Nor could a talented disciple skip the path through effort.
Power...
Determined responsibility.
---
That evening...
Cassian sat alone upon the cliff overlooking the endless forest.
The wooden bird he had carved rested in his hand.
He smiled faintly.
"I wonder..."
"What everyone else is doing."
For some reason...
His thoughts drifted toward the mysterious invitation once more.
Grand Academy.
He whispered the name softly.
"...One day."
"I'll leave this place."
---
Far away...
Within the Hidden Valley...
Kael swung his enormous wooden practice sword downward.
"Again!"
Bang!
Kieran barely blocked the strike before being sent tumbling backward across the grass.
"Ouch..."
Kael grinned.
"You've improved."
Kieran rubbed his sore arms.
"It still hurts."
"It should."
"A sword isn't meant to feel comfortable."
Crystal watched from nearby.
She noticed something.
Kieran hadn't blocked using strength.
He had redirected the force.
The movement was subtle.
Natural.
Almost instinctive.
He was beginning to understand the Principle of Flow.
Not consciously...
But through experience.
She smiled to herself.
"Good."
"Very good."
---
Night descended upon the Hidden Valley.
Kieran sat beneath the ancient oak.
He placed his wooden sword across his knees.
Without thinking...
He rested one hand upon the hilt.
Closed his eyes.
And listened.
The wind brushed against the blade.
The wood creaked softly.
For a brief moment...
He felt as though the sword was speaking.
Not with words.
But with intent.
He smiled.
"So..."
"You've been listening too."
The breeze became slightly stronger.
The leaves around him rustled happily.
High above...
The stars shimmered.
And deep beneath the Hall of Origins...
The tiny golden sprout swayed gently...
As though it, too, had heard the conversation.
End of Chapter 42