It had been two weeks since that day.
Xuan sat in a wagon creaking its way through a winding mountain pass. The girl he had pointed out—Lin Ran—sat across from him, silent and tense. The journey to the main sect's location was nearing its end, but the events of that day lingered in his mind like a shadow that refused to dissipate.
He still remembered the Headmaster's calm command and the chaos that followed. The children's terrified cries, the cold efficiency of Shen—it all happened so fast. Xuan had been too stunned to speak, his mind shutting down in the face of the sheer brutality. They hadn't let him watch for long. The Headmaster had ordered him and Lin Ran to leave the room before the slaughter was complete.
"Better this way," the Headmaster had told him later, his tone almost kind. "We can't let news of your talent spread, Xuan. If it does, rival sects, schools, and even independent cultivators would send assassins after you. You'll thank me for this one day—it's for your own good."
Xuan hadn't thanked him. He didn't think he ever would. But he also knew there was nothing he could do about it now.
The girl, Lin Ran, had been spared. After what she had witnessed, the Headmaster had said they couldn't allow her to stay behind with the other children—she knew too much. Yet, not having unlocked her dantian, she wasn't qualified to join the main sect as a disciple either. Instead, the Headmaster had instructed Xuan to take her in as a servant.
This was a carefully calculated decision by the Headmaster. First, he had asked Xuan if there were any friends among the group, ensuring he could spare someone to prevent any lingering grievances. Then, by ordering the rest to be silenced, the Headmaster had demonstrated the harsh reality of their world. It wasn't just about secrecy; it was a deliberate lesson, exposing Xuan to the cruelty of the cultivation world and preparing him for the struggles ahead.
Keeping Lin Ran by Xuan's side was another layer of the plan. Young as they both were, the Headmaster saw potential in their bond. They were a young boy and girl. He couldn't ignore the possibility that feelings might develop over time. Whether that came to pass or not, her presence would force Xuan to take on a sense of responsibility. Meanwhile, Lin Ran could continue her cultivation journey in the safety of the main sect, where her actions could be closely monitored, removing any risk of her leaking what she knew. It was a win-win scenario for the sect.
The wagon jolted as it climbed higher into the mountain pass. The silence between Xuan and Lin Ran was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Xuan's thoughts lingered on the explanation he had been given about the sect's structure.
The ranks of the sect had been outlined briefly, leaving him with much to ponder. At the very bottom were the servant disciples. These were children who had passed the initial test but failed to unlock their dantian in time. Most were relegated to administrative or maintenance roles around the sect, performing mundane tasks to support its daily functions. Only a fortunate few were ever taken in as personal servants to core disciples. By circumstance, Lin Ran had become one of those exceptions.
Above them were the outer disciples, those who succeeded in unlocking their dantian but hadn't yet distinguished themselves in cultivation. They formed the majority of the sect's population, training hard in hopes of advancing further. Bo Cai and the others would start here, if they were to unlock their dantian in time.
Then came the inner disciples, a select group chosen for their exceptional talent or achievements. Though Xuan didn't know the exact requirements to ascend to this rank, he understood it marked a significant step in one's cultivation journey.
Finally, there were the core disciples, the elite few who carried the future of the sect. Most had been chosen based on extraordinary talent or unique performances. Xuan had been told he would enter the sect as a core disciple, a status bestowed by the mark on his hand. Officially, however, he would be presented as Master Shen's personal disciple, as a cover to protect his identity.
His gaze flicked to Lin Ran, who sat quietly across from him. As a core disciple, one of the unique privileges granted to him was the right to an attendant—and Lin Ran had been assigned to fill that role.
The wagon jolted slightly as it came to a stop, and Xuan's thoughts turned inward. The memory of that day, the cold decisiveness of the Headmaster, and the cries of the children lingered in his mind. The fragile nature of life in the cultivation world had become painfully clear. Here, strength wasn't just a luxury—it was survival.
He clenched his fist, his nails biting into his palm. Weakness meant being discarded, forgotten. He couldn't afford that. He had to grow stronger—strong enough to stand above the sect that now held his life in its hands. Strong enough to find his family, wherever they might be.
His hand drifted to the pendant resting against his chest. The familiar weight of the necklace grounded him, its surface beneath his fingers giving him sustenance. It was the last link to his old life, to his little sister and their parents.
Taking a deep breath, Xuan steadied himself, his resolve hardening. He would endure. He would use the resources of this sect to rise, to become someone no one could control or discard. To become someone that could take matters into their own hands.
---
As the door to the wagon opened, Xuan and Lin Ran stepped out, the sight before them leaving the momentarily stunned. Towering gates of black stone rose before them, inlaid with veins of shimmering jade. Beyond the gates sprawled the sect's stronghold—a breathtaking array of jade pavilions, spiraling towers, and cascading waterfalls that glistened in the afternoon light. Part of the sect's stronghold clung to the sheer cliffs of a mountain, exuding both grandeur and intimidation.
Master Shen stepped out beside them, his expression as impassive as ever. The Headmaster had departed earlier on his own, leaving Master Shen to oversee their arrival. Gesturing toward the wide stone path leading up to the gates, his tone was warm. "Let's move."
Xuan was to be his disciple in name, at least, so Master Shen had decided to personally introduce him to the sect—a task no elder of his stature would normally undertake.
As they ascended the path, Xuan caught glimpses of disciples moving about. The sect buzzed with activity, disciples in uniform robes walking briskly between buildings or gathered in quiet conversation near the pavilions. Some paused to stare, their gazes flicking curiously toward the small group.
Eventually, they arrived at a small house nestled against the mountainside, its sloping tiled roof blending seamlessly with the rugged terrain. A modest garden surrounded the house, with patches of carefully tended herbs and a winding stone path leading to the door. The house stood slightly apart from the others, offering a sense of solitude and serenity.
Master Shen stopped in front of it, turning to Xuan and Lin Ran.
"This is where you'll stay." he said, gesturing toward the house. "As a core disciple, you have your own house."
Pointing toward the house, Shen continued, "Inside, you'll find everything prepared: your sect robes, a token identifying your status, the basic rules, and a starter allocation of resources. The Headmaster ensured everything was arranged before your arrival."
He shifted his gaze to Lin Ran. "As for you, you'll live with Xuan in the attached servant's quarters. Your role is to assist him as needed and to follow sect protocols. This arrangement is a privilege," he added firmly, as if to remind her of her position.
Then, Shen turned back to Xuan, his tone though still warm, gave off some more authority now. "You may be the mark bearer, and your talent is undeniable, but we don't raise flowers in a glass house. While your identity as a core disciple grants you resources and status, much of what you achieve will depend on your own efforts. You'll need to fight for many of your resources, just like anyone else. That is the way of the sect."
He glanced up the mountainside, gesturing toward a grand mansion that loomed a bit above Xuan's small house. "That's my place. As your master, even if just in name, you can come to me with any questions or issues. The Headmaster has also said that if there's something truly critical, you may approach him directly."
With that, Shen straightened, signaling the end of their conversation. "I'll leave you to find the rest out on your own."
He turned and began walking up the mountain path, his steps measured and deliberate. Just as Xuan thought the exchange was over, Shen paused and glanced back, a faint smile curling on his lips. "Ah, and as for the traditional welcoming gift from a master to their disciple... hmm, I'll send you something soon. Consider it a surprise."
Without waiting for a response, he resumed his ascent, disappearing into the misty trail above.
---
Later in the day.
On the winding mountain paths of the Venomthread Sect, a lone figure moved steadily upward. It was a boy, with jet-black hair streaked with blue and green highlights, that fluttered slightly in the crisp mountain breeze. He wore new robes—deep black with intricate silver embroidery— that hung elegantly on his lean frame. On his chest was a small, yet unmistakable insignia: a coiled spider etched in silver, the mark of a core disciple.
This was Xuan.
He walked with a steady purpose, his eyes scanning the path ahead.
In his hand, he held a small map, one of the many items provided in the bundle of information he had found at his new quarters. The sheer volume of details had been overwhelming—the sect's rules, the privileges and expectations of a core disciple, and the countless unwritten nuances he would have to navigate. Yet, one priority had stood out above all else: cultivation. To take his next step, he needed a cultivation method suited to his elemental affinities.
And the place to find that was none other than the Webspire Pavilion.