The Council of Elders gathered in the Hall of Eternal Wisdom, their expressions heavy with worry about what lay in the minds of all of them. Elder Han stood up, his hands clasped behind his back as the other elders murmured among themselves.
"We cannot allow fear to cripple the sect," elder Han began, his voice cutting through the low hum of conversation. "Prophecies may foretell doom, but it is in our hands to forge our destiny. The sect master's instruction about keeping everything under wraps as we continue to search for answers. The disciples must remain focused, disciplined, and prepared."
Elder Choi, head of the Talisman Pavilion, nodded in agreement. "I agree, Elder Han. I suggest we bring the annual sect tournament forward. It was supposed to be in half a year's time anyway. We would only be bringing it forward by three months. The Sect Tournament is an annual tradition that boost both morale and cultivation progress. Bringing it forward would dispel doubts and also breed eagerness among the disciples."
Elder Jian of the discipline hall frowned but remained silent. His mind lingered on Elder Yi's vision and the disturbing implications of the boy's bloodline if true. Still, he knew the importance of maintaining normalcy within the sect.
'Would the boy also participate? Asked Elder Luo of the Formations pavilion 'If he is as we fear, then I don't think he'll be able to control the bloodline if it overpowers him, especially during a battle'.
'This is a valid question and observation,' said Elder Yi
'Remember the tournament is for the outer and inner sect disciples to be promoted to the next level. Li already is a core disciple of the sect master, so he does not need to participate'
"Then it's settled," Elder Han declared. "We will proceed with the tournament as planned. Inform the disciples and elders by tomorrow morning, and the tournament will take place three months from now. Elder Ling, ensure that the preparations are flawless."
Elder Ling, who oversaw the Martial Arena, bowed deeply. "It shall be done, Elder Han."
The meeting concluded, and the elders dispersed, their steps more resolute now that a decision had been made. By dawn, the large jade noticeboard in the center of the sect's communal grounds bore the announcement:
ANNUAL SECT TOURNAMENT
In three months' time, the Sect Tournament will determine:
Five outer disciples promoted to inner disciples
Five inner disciples promoted to core disciples*
All eligible disciples are encouraged to participate by registering at the Martial Hall. For the outer sect disciples, all at the six Qi controlling realm and above are eligible to compete. For the inner sect disciples, all at the fifth Qi refining realm and above are eligible.
May the best among you rise and bring honor to the sect.
By midday, the announcement had stirred the entire sect into a frenzy of activity. Disciples crowded around the noticeboard, their excited voices mingling with the occasional outburst of disbelief.
"Three months!" exclaimed Jin Rong, an outer disciple with a stocky build and a perpetually cheerful demeanor. "That's not much time at all! I am just at the fifth realm of Qi controlling, I still need one more level"
His companion, Mei Lin, rolled her eyes. "If three months aren't enough for you to prepare and breakthrough to the sixth level, Jin, maybe you shouldn't bother trying at all."
Jin puffed out his chest. "Hey, don't count me out just yet! I'll cultivate harder to breakthrough to the six realm before the tournament starts. I've been practicing my Iron Palm technique every day. By the tournament, I'll be unstoppable!"
Nearby, a group of inner disciples huddled together, their expressions more serious. Among them was Fang Lu, a calm and disciplined fighter known for his precise swordsmanship.
"This tournament is more than just a promotion opportunity," Fang said, his voice steady. "It's a chance to showcase our skills to the elders and even catch the attention of the Sect Master himself. Being a core disciple without being chosen by an elder is like being a rogue cultivator. None of us can afford to slack off."
Another disciple, a lanky youth named Bo Qiang, nodded fervently. "I heard the other inner disciples have already started sparring in preparation. We'll have to push ourselves if we want to compete."
In a shaded corner of the training grounds, a trio of outer disciples sat cross-legged, their expressions a mix of excitement and anxiety.
"Do you think any of us stand a chance against Bai Chen?" one of them asked, his voice tinged with doubt.
"Bai Chen?" scoffed another. "He's practically guaranteed to be promoted to a core disciple. But the rest of the spots are up for grabs. We just need to train harder than everyone else."
"But what about the rumors?" the first disciple whispered, leaning in closer. "They say the Sect Master is preparing for something big—something dangerous. What if this tournament is just a distraction?"
The third disciple, a quiet girl named Xia Yun, finally spoke up. "Even if it is, what choice do we have? This is our chance to prove ourselves. If we succeed, we'll be stronger—better prepared for whatever lies ahead."
Her words seemed to steel the group's resolve, and they rose to their feet, ready to return to their training.
Meanwhile, in the secluded training grounds reserved for core disciples, a different kind of conversation unfolded. The core disciples, already the elite among their peers, saw the tournament not just as a challenge but as an opportunity to solidify their dominance.
"This year's tournament will be interesting," mused Wei Xun, a tall and imposing figure whose spear techniques were unmatched in the sect. "With Bai Chen competing, the inner disciples will be more desperate than ever to prove themselves."
Lan Rui, a core disciple known for her graceful but deadly movement techniques, smirked. "Desperation often leads to mistakes. It'll be amusing to see who cracks under pressure."
Another core disciple, Zhao Hui, frowned. "We shouldn't underestimate them. The Sect Master values strength, but he values potential even more. A single impressive performance could change everything."
Wei Xun waved a hand dismissively. "Let them try. None of them have what it takes to surpass us."
As the days turned into weeks, the entire sect buzzed with energy. The training grounds were busier than ever, with disciples practicing their techniques late into the night. The sound of clashing swords, the crackle of energy techniques, and the shouts of determined fighters filled the air.