The mist rolled in unnaturally fast that evening.
Han Li stood on the academy's tallest rooftop, wind tugging at his robes, his eyes locked on the crimson glint beyond the forest.
"A scout," he murmured.
Behind him, Bai Zheng stumbled out, holding a scroll. "T-Teacher! The academy announced the annual instructor tournament! They want you to submit Class D's entry—by tomorrow."
Han Li glanced back.
"Instructor tournament?"
"Yes!" Bai Zheng's glasses fogged up. "Each teacher submits a team of five. It's a big deal! Nobles even sponsor fights!"
Han Li chuckled. "I see. So it begins."
Suddenly, a sharp whoosh broke the silence. A needle, barely visible to the eye, shot toward Bai Zheng's heart.
Han Li moved like lightning.
Flick.
A single finger deflected the needle, embedding it harmlessly in the stone pillar.
Bai Zheng collapsed in shock. "W-What was that?!"
Han Li's gaze hardened. He vanished.
Deep in the fog, the crimson-eyed scout was already retreating—but too slowly.
Han Li appeared behind him like a phantom.
"You watched long enough. Speak."
The scout trembled. "I-It's not my will. The Blood Scripture wants information on your class. That Sky-Eater... it's stirring, and they know."
Han Li's voice turned glacial. "You dare mention that name?"
The scout tried to flee. He never took a step.
With a light tap, Han Li sealed his acupoints.
Back in his courtyard, he dropped the unconscious body before Yue Qian and Long Wu.
"Change of training plan," he said.
"We're being hunted."
Their eyes widened.
From the shadows, other elite instructors began to stir.
The real tournament had already begun—and it wasn't just about glory anymore.