Huolian stared into the quiet pond behind the meditation courts, the moonlight fractured in its surface like broken glass.
The training had improved her control, but only marginally. Enough to pass, not to excel. And that… was not acceptable.
'I'm not here to pass. I'm here to dominate.'
She remembered her words from her past life.
"He who waits to rise is already buried."
But this wasn't the battlefield of her past life. There were no corpses to harvest, no wandering spirits to bind.
No way to strike fear and submission with a glance. These disciples were too well-guarded. Watched at every turn by instructors whose senses could spot even a ripple of malice.
'Direct conquest is suicide.' She thought.
Which meant… she needed subtlety.
Huolian didn't move. She sat cross-legged beside the water until the others had gone, until even the insects fell silent and the clouds passed over the moon.
Then, her eyes opened. cold, sharp and predatory.
'I must rise by making others fall… quietly.'
Over the next three days, Huolian observed.
She pretended to struggle in qi cycling, mimicking fatigue. She let Elder Ruan strike her once, then twice. Not hard. Enough to lower expectations.
While the others focused on training, she watched.
Wen Shan favored the sword, yes, but more than that, his posture showed overconfidence. He relied too much on a single qi node near his right shoulder to power his thrusts.
Zhao Fei, calm and focused, meditated twice as long as the others. But she often returned pale, drained. Likely over-extending her Water-Essence body beyond what her foundation could handle.
Even the best had cracks. Tiny ones. But in Boluo's memory, every crack was a path to victory.
And now, she would test that theory.
It began small.
During group meditation, Huolian sat near Wen Shan. When the session ended, she reached into her sleeve, fingers brushing a small talisman she'd secretly etched the night before, one that subtly disrupted qi flow around a target.
Not enough to cause deviation.
But just enough to make him tire faster during cycles.
Wen Shan didn't notice. But by the end of the session, sweat lined his brow. He stumbled slightly when he stood.
Huolian helped him up with a soft smile.
"Careful. You okay?"
"Yeah," he muttered. "Just overdid it."
She nodded, then turned away.
One step down.
Zhao Fei was harder.
She was careful, composed. But that stability depended on her meditations. Huolian timed her approach perfectly, just as Zhao Fei entered her longest trance near the pond.
As Zhao sat unmoving, Huolian dropped a small spirit-thread into the water. She used just a sliver of dormant killing intent, pulled from her own blood. It spread like ink in the qi-filled air, nearly invisible, whisper-thin.
Enough to disturb the balance of the Water-Essence body when it absorbed the ambient qi.
Zhao's meditation ended early.
She stood, confused. Breathing shallow.
Something had gone wrong.
Huolian offered no help this time. She just watched from afar.
Two steps down.
By the end of the week, murmurs began to spread.
"Wen Shan seems off lately."
"Zhao Fei's control is slipping."
"What's going on?"
Meanwhile, Huolian cycled her qi like clockwork.
Every day, she improved. Every day, the instructors nodded with faint approval. Elder Ruan stopped striking her altogether.
But she kept her head low. No boasting. No sudden leaps in power. Just… quiet competence.
Let the others burn themselves out trying to catch up.
She would still be standing when the smoke cleared.
Then came the dual cultivation sessions.
Not in the romantic sense but paired training. Sparring, synchronization of techniques, mutual reinforcement. A test of compatibility and shared rhythm.
A test she had waited for.
They were randomly assigned. Disciples groaned and shuffled.
When names were called, Huolian was paired with Wen Shan.
He grinned weakly. "Guess it's our turn."
She smiled back. "Looking forward to it."
Their task was simple: use coordinated strikes to break a layered defense talisman projected by a puppet. Each failure would result in a counterblast, forcing synchronization.
At first, Wen Shan led.
His strikes were fast but not sharp. His shoulder trembled after every blow. He gritted his teeth. His breath was ragged.
Huolian played along for five rounds, supporting his rhythm, letting him falter.
Then, on the sixth round, she stepped forward.
"Let me lead this one."
Wen Shan hesitated.
She didn't wait.
Her hand struck first. It was clean, sharp and timed perfectly with the Wen Shan's fluctuation.
Wen Shan scrambled to keep up.
The barrier shattered.
Elder Ruan watched from a distance and nodded.
"Switch leaders next round," he ordered.
Wen Shan glanced at her, chest heaving. "You're… improving fast."
Huolian gave him a sheepish look. "Guess I'm just lucky."
The other disciples noticed.
Whispers again. But this time, with a shift in tone.
"She's better than Wen Shan now?"
"Zhao Fei hasn't advanced at all lately."
"Maybe Shenxiu really did find a genius."
Huolian didn't answer.
She simply kept winning.
And her plan, carefully woven, deepened with every passing day.
But success brought danger.
One night, after meditation, a voice called from the shadows of the garden.
"You're not normal."
Huolian turned.
A girl stepped out. Older. Taller. Hair like raven silk. Her robes bore the mark of the second elder.
"You're hiding something."
Huolian didn't speak.
The girl smiled.
"Good. The sect needs people like you."
She stepped closer.
"But be careful. The instructors aren't the only ones watching. Shenxiu is not stupid. He already knows of your so-called 'plot.'"
Then she vanished, like mist.
Huolian stood in silence.
She hadn't expected this.
There were others like her. Maybe not necromancers… but predators. Quiet climbers. Players of the same game.
She touched her wrist, where the talisman ink still stained her skin.
'I can't slip. Not even once.'
A week later, the instructors announced the next test.
"Qi clash and channel control."
It was a sparring match, but internal.
Two disciples would sit opposite each other, cycle their qi into a shared node, and battle for dominance. It tested not strength but control, stability, and purity.
The pairings would be public.
Huolian's name was called.
Against… Zhao Fei.
Gasps echoed.
Zhao stepped forward, her eyes cool and calm.
She hadn't spoken to Huolian since the disturbances began. She'd grown quieter, her aura more defensive.
They sat facing each other on the elevated stone platform. Hands forming seals. Palms raised.
The shared qi node activated.
It began.
Qi surged from both girls, meeting at the center.
At first, it was balanced.
Then Huolian pushed, not hard, but with rhythm. She shaped her qi to mimic the sect's pure form, suppressing the chaotic echoes of Boluo's path.
Zhao countered with a tidal force.
But her flow was… unsteady. The imbalance Huolian planted days ago now bloomed like a poisoned flower.
Zhao's breath caught.
The node flickered.
And Huolian struck, not with raw power, but surgical precision.
Zhao's qi collapsed.
The stone beneath her cracked. She fell backward, stunned.
Gasps.
Silence.
Elder Ruan raised a brow.
"…Victory to Huolian."
Applause followed. Wen Shan looked stunned.
Huolian bowed.
She did not smile.
Inside, she burned.
'I warned you all.'
'I came to win.'