Instructor Wuya's voice was as sharp as a blade, cutting through the quiet murmur of the lecture hall. "Tsk. I don’t know how such a dullard entered this esteemed Sect," he remarked with a sneer before resuming his lesson.

Raja felt the sting of the words like a physical blow. Today was supposed to be just another class, but instead, he found himself singled out and publicly humiliated by Instructor Wuya. He clenched his fists under the desk, struggling to maintain his composure.

"Does it matter that I haven’t yet grasped the intricacies of condensing an Ethereal Core?" Raja fumed internally, his gaze fixed on the instructor, who continued the lesson as if nothing had happened. "Did he really need to tear me down in front of everyone?"

A voice, soft yet laced with an ethereal authority, resonated in Raja’s mind, emanating from the ring on his finger. "Little thing, do you dare harbor ill thoughts towards your teachers?"

Raja's heart skipped a beat. "You misunderstand, senior. I hold the elders in the highest regard, but this man… he crossed a line today."

The voice was silent for a moment, as if weighing his words. "There is truth in what you say. Instructor Wuya has never given you more than a passing glance, and yet today, he sought to humiliate you. There is something deeper at play here."

Raja forced himself to focus back on the lecture, though his mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. Instructor Wuya’s droning voice filled the room. "Remember, condensing the core, giving birth to the spirit, opening your Heavenly Eye, and then becoming one with heaven and earth, these are the pillars of the path to longevity."

Raja's eyes narrowed as he resolved to test the old man’s knowledge. If Wuya wanted to embarrass him, Raja would give him a reason to remember this day. He raised his hand, ignoring the curious looks from his fellow disciples.

Wuya's eyes flickered with a flash of irritation as he acknowledged the raised hand. "Yes, what is it?" he asked, his tone edged with impatience.

"Instructor," Raja began, his voice steady, "what comes after the Dao Lord Realm?"

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, the kind that stretches on just a bit too long. Whispers broke out among the students.

"This kid is not too bright," one voice muttered.

"Expected from a vermin of the Wildlands," another scoffed.

Yari, who sat beside Raja, gave him a bewildered look. "Junior brother, what kind of question is that?"

The woman in the ring sighed, her voice tinged with exasperation. "You foolish disciple, don't you know that such knowledge is beyond the bounds of this realm?"

Wuya descended the steps of the lecture hall, his gaze locked onto Raja with a dangerous intensity. Without a word, he grabbed Raja by the ear and dragged him down to the front, the murmurs of the other students swelling into a cacophony.

"Trying to disgrace an instructor with such a ridiculous question," Wuya hissed, his face inches from Raja’s. "I could have you expelled from the Sect for this."

Raja stood before the gathered disciples, his heart pounding, but his resolve unshaken. He had made his move, and now, he would face the consequences.

Raja stared at the ground, his vision clouded by the anger he struggled to contain.

“Kowtow to me fifty times, and I shall be lenient, banishing you from the lectures for only five days,” Wuya sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. His eyes bore into Raja with a mixture of disdain and anticipation.

Raja's fists clenched tighter, his nails digging into his palms. He dared not raise his head, lest the instructor see the fury blazing in his eyes.

"Just give in," the woman in the ring urged softly. "Do not make things worse for yourself."

Raja remained silent, his jaw locked in defiance.

"Hmph!" Wuya's patience snapped. With a flick of his hand, he unleashed a surge of Divine Sense, forcing Raja to his knees. The pressure was immense, like an invisible hand crushing him from above.

"You dare refuse a direct command?" Wuya's voice boomed, reverberating through the lecture hall.

The eyes of Raja’s classmates were upon him, their gazes filled with ridicule and pity. The worst of it was the presence of his senior sister, who had attended this lecture at his request. Now, he was nothing more than a spectacle, a fool, in front of her.

Beneath Wuya’s mask of irritation, a sly smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Let this insolent whelp speak out of turn again, and I’ll have Ryes’s prized pupil thrown out of the academy for good," he thought, savoring the prospect.

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Raja struggled against the overwhelming force, his body trembling as he fought to stand. Every muscle screamed in protest, but his spirit refused to yield. With a voice raw and defiant, he shouted, "WUYA! DO NOT BULLY THE YOUNG!"

The room fell deathly silent, the air thick with tension. Wuya's eyes flashed with cold fury as he delivered a vicious slap across Raja's face, the impact sending him crashing into the chalkboard. The wooden surface held firm, but Raja crumpled to the ground, coughing up blood as he fell to his knees once more.

"YOU DARE ADDRESS ME BY MY NAME! GOOD! GOOD!" Wuya roared, his voice laced with sadistic glee. "LOOKS LIKE YOU HAVE NO DESIRE TO LIVE!"

Wuya began to advance, his steps slow and deliberate, each one heavy with malice. The satisfaction in his eyes was unmistakable. He wouldn’t kill Raja, not with the Headmistress to answer to, but he could destroy him in other ways. Shattering his cultivation foundation would be just as effective.

Raja looked up, his vision blurred by pain and anger. "Remember, thirty years to the east and thirty to the west. Don’t think I’ll forget this!" he spat, his voice hoarse yet filled with resolve.

Wuya sneered at the defiance. "In thirty years, you’ll be dead," he thought coldly, as he prepared to strike the final blow that would end Raja’s path as a cultivator.

Unexpectedly, a hand appeared, grabbing Wuya’s wrist with an iron grip.

"Attempting to ruin someone’s foundation because they asked a question you could not answer? Don’t make me laugh," Feng Zhiming's voice cut through the tension as he stepped between Raja and Wuya.

Wuya’s eyes widened in shock before narrowing in anger. "Ryes, don’t tell me you’re trying to defend this disrespectful little bastard," he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

Feng Zhiming's expression remained calm, a faint smile playing on his lips. "So what if I am? Can you stop me?" he retorted, his tone laced with quiet confidence.

Raja, who had braced himself for the worst, now looked upon Feng Zhiming with a newfound sense of awe. Here was a true instructor, one who would stand against injustice.

"DISPERSE!" Wuya bellowed, his voice shaking with frustration as he dismissed the lecture. The students quickly filed out, leaving only Feng Zhiming, Raja, and Wuya in the room.

As the last of the students disappeared through the door, Wuya turned on his heel, his face twisted in rage. "Let's see what the Headmistress thinks about this," he snarled, storming out of the room, his footsteps echoing through the empty hall.

Feng Zhiming watched him go, an amused chuckle rising in his throat. Everything had gone exactly as he had anticipated.

Raja, still recovering from the ordeal, cupped his hands and bowed slightly before Feng Zhiming. "Thank you, Instructor, for upholding justice."

Feng Zhiming waved a hand dismissively. "No need for thanks. Wuya was crossing the line here. I just happened to be walking by," he replied, the lie slipping effortlessly from his lips.

In truth, he had been waiting just outside the room, timing his entrance perfectly to intervene at the right moment. But that was a detail Raja didn’t need to know. For now, it was enough that the young disciple understood he had someone in his corner.

Raja straightened up, still feeling the lingering effects of Wuya’s Divine Sense pressing on him. Despite the pain and humiliation, there was a warmth spreading in his chest, a flicker of hope ignited by Feng Zhiming’s intervention.

“Instructor Ryes,” Raja began, his voice steadier now, “I don’t know how to repay your kindness. I was prepared to endure whatever punishment Instructor Wuya saw fit, but you—”

“Raja,” Feng Zhiming interrupted gently, placing a hand on the young man’s shoulder, “there’s no need for grand gestures. What happened today is a lesson in itself. Remember, the cultivation world is filled with trials, not all of them come from outside enemies. Sometimes, the greatest challenges are those within our own Sect.”

Raja nodded, absorbing the wisdom in those words. He had known this truth in theory, but today it had struck him with the force of reality.

Feng Zhiming glanced toward the door, where the last echoes of Wuya’s angry departure still lingered. “Wuya won’t let this go easily,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “You’ll need to be cautious in the coming days. He’ll seek to hinder you, perhaps not directly, but in ways that are more insidious.”

Raja’s brow furrowed, concern shadowing his features. “What should I do, Instructor?”

“Focus on your cultivation,” Feng Zhiming advised, his tone firm but encouraging. “Strengthen your foundation. Wuya’s disdain stems from a place of weakness, not strength. Prove him wrong by advancing in ways he never expects.”

Raja’s eyes hardened with resolve. “I will, Instructor. I won’t let him break me.”

Feng Zhiming smiled, a genuine warmth in his expression. “Good. And remember, you’re not alone in this. There are those who see your potential, who believe in you. Let that be your strength.”

As the words settled into Raja’s heart, he felt a renewed determination. The path ahead was fraught with challenges, but with allies like Instructor Ryes, he knew he could face whatever came his way.

“Now,” Feng Zhiming said, his tone shifting to something lighter, “I believe you still have some time before your next class. Use it wisely. Perhaps some meditation or reviewing your notes.”

Raja nodded, grateful for the advice. As he turned to leave, he paused and looked back at Feng Zhiming. “Thank you again, Instructor. I won’t forget this.”

Feng Zhiming gave a slight nod. “Go on disciple Raja. The journey is long, but you’re on the right path.”

Raja left the room, the weight of the encounter slowly lifting from his shoulders. As he walked through the corridors of the Sect, he could feel the eyes of other disciples on him, some filled with curiosity, others with judgment. But he paid them no mind. His focus was set, his resolve unshakable.

Feng Zhiming watched Raja disappear from sight, his thoughts already turning to the next steps. He knew Wuya would escalate matters, perhaps even involve the Headmistress, but that was exactly what he wanted. For now, he had given Raja the support he needed, and that was enough.

As he prepared to leave, Feng Zhiming couldn’t help but smile to himself. The Sect was indeed a battlefield, but not all wars were fought with fists or swords. Some were won with patience, wisdom, and the careful cultivation of trust. And in that regard, he was already several steps ahead.