The moon hung low over the Holy Sect, casting a silvery glow across the stone structures. The cool night air whispered through the corridors, carrying with it the faint scent of incense and the distant murmurs of disciples deep in meditation. In the secluded confines of his chamber, Aric sat in quiet contemplation. The soft flicker of candlelight danced across his sharp features, casting elongated shadows that seemed to mirror the depth of his thoughts.
Ever since his return from the forest with Mei Xian and Murong Wei, Aric's mind had been a whirlwind of plans. The events of the past weeks had solidified his position within the sect, but he knew that true power required more than individual strength—it required influence, information, and control. But Aric was playing a longer game.
