Wei sat cross legged in the dim confines of the cultivation chamber, the faint hum of Qi filling the still air. A smirk tugged at his lips as the power of the third layer of Qi Condensation coursed through his meridians. Though insignificant to the core disciples, to Wei, it was a hard-earned victory, a step closer to proving his worth.

“Tao,” he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper, yet sharp with venom. Each syllable dripped with simmering resentment. “You’ll regret the day you dared to look down on me.”

Rising in a single fluid motion, Wei adjusted his robes, his movements precise and deliberate. Arrogance radiated from his posture, but his sharp eyes betrayed the careful calculations running through his mind.

Sliding open the chamber door, he stepped into the bustling sect grounds. Disciples hurried past him, their chatter blending with the distant clang of sparring weapons. Wei ignored them, his focus singular: Tao.

The Herb Pavilion loomed ahead, its familiar scent of dried herbs and incense stirring his simmering anger. Wei approached the attendants with barely veiled impatience. “Where is Tao?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the pavilion’s tranquil hum.

One attendant glanced up, unimpressed. “Gone on a mission to the Wilds.”

Wei froze, his smirk vanishing. “Gone?” The word felt like a curse, his frustration boiling beneath the surface.

“Yes,” the attendant replied curtly, already turning back to their work.

Wei’s fists clenched as he strode away, his thoughts churning. Tao’s absence was an affront, a delay in his plans for revenge. His steps quickened as he sought out Yun Fei.

Near the mission board, Yun Fei stood amidst the chaos of jostling disciples, his calm detachment setting him apart. He leaned lazily against a wooden post, his gaze flicking over the assignments as if they were beneath him.

When Wei approached, Yun Fei didn’t turn, merely tilting his head to acknowledge him. “Ah, Wei,” he drawled, a sly smile curving his lips. “You look… frustrated.”

“Tao is gone,” Wei snapped, his tone clipped. “What’s your plan for when he returns?”

Yun Fei chuckled, his voice smooth as silk. “Oh, I’ve laid a trap for our dear Tao. The Wilds will bleed him dry, and when he stumbles back, exhausted and vulnerable, we’ll finish what you started.”

Wei’s eyes narrowed. Yun Fei’s smug confidence grated on him. “And if he survives stronger than before?”

Yun Fei’s grin faltered for a fraction of a second before returning, though less assured. “Stronger or not, the ambush will break him.”

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Wei’s gaze hardened. Yun Fei was a fool, blind to Tao’s resilience. If Tao survived the Wilds, he wouldn’t return weaker.

Wei turned back to the mission board, scanning the tasks with renewed determination. His eyes landed on one marked with a red talisman: Hunt a Thunder Horn Stag.

The details promised a significant reward, spirit stones, rare herbs, and the beast’s core, a treasure that could accelerate his cultivation.

Without hesitation, Wei tore the jade plaque from the board. His fingers tightened around it as he whispered, “Tao, you won’t outpace me. Not this time.”

Meanwhile, in the Hall of Resolve, the elders gathered, their faces tense as they studied the report laid out before them. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of jade orbs suspended above the polished stone table.

Elder Hua’s sharp eyes scanned the parchment, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Increased activity from the Ironwood Tower Sect,” she said, her tone clipped. “They’ve been spotted deeper in the Wilds, accompanied by cultivators we don’t recognize.”

Elder Jianyu frowned, his broad shoulders stiffening. “Stronger allies, no doubt. They’re searching for something significant.”

Elder Mei tapped her fingers against the table, her pristine robes a stark contrast to the sombre atmosphere. “Ancient legacies, most likely. If they find what they’re looking for, it could shift the balance of power in the region.”

Hua nodded grimly. “And if they do, we won’t stand a chance.”

The elders fell silent, the weight of the situation pressing down on them.

The doors to the hall creaked open, and a wave of pressure swept through the room. The patriarch, Yu Tian, stepped inside, his presence commanding and unshakable.

Yu Tian was tall, his robes of deep green embroidered with golden threads that shimmered like flowing rivers. His long silver hair fell to his waist, and his piercing eyes seemed to see through the very fabric of reality. A faint aura of boundless Qi surrounded him, the air around him rippling as if unable to contain his power.

The elders rose, bowing deeply as he approached.

“Patriarch,” Hua said, her voice steady despite the palpable tension in the room.

Yu Tian’s gaze swept over them, his expression calm but inscrutable. “I’ve read the report,” he said, his voice deep and resonant. “Your concerns are valid. The Ironwood Tower Sect’s actions are not their own.”

Jianyu’s brow furrowed. “You mean they’re being backed by a stronger sect?”

Yu Tian nodded. “The signs are clear. Their movements are too calculated, their resources too abundant for a sect of their size. This is the work of a larger force, testing the waters.”

“What should we do?” Mei asked, her tone cautious.

Yu Tian’s gaze hardened. “We tread carefully. Open conflict would invite disaster, but we cannot allow them to grow unchecked. Elder Hua, identify the disciples with the greatest potential and accelerate their training. Elder Jianyu, prepare a covert team of core disciples to disrupt their efforts in the Wilds. Elder Mei, strengthen our alliances and gather intelligence on their backers.”

The elders nodded, their resolve solidifying under Yu Tian’s guidance.

“Remember,” Yu Tian said, his tone sharp, “the Verdant Dawn Sect has weathered storms before. But to survive this, we must be unified, vigilant, and unrelenting.”

As the patriarch turned to leave, his parting words hung in the air like a solemn vow.

“The Wilds are only the beginning. The true storm is yet to come.”

He strode out of the hall, the oppressive weight of his presence lifting only after the doors closed behind him. The elders exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of unease and determination. The patriarch’s words had left no room for doubt, the time for hesitation was over.