Early morning mist hadn't faded when Twilight Academy's brass bell tolled nine times.
Han Li walked into the central hall where all instructors gathered—some with eager smiles, others with veiled contempt. Every instructor had been summoned. The reason? The Instructor Tournament had officially begun.
"This is a mistake," muttered Elder Gong under his breath. "Allowing Class D to participate?"
"Han Li won't even last the first round," scoffed Instructor Wei, arms crossed.
Han Li stood in silence, eyes half-closed.
Principal Yun stepped forward. Dressed in flowing silver robes, her voice echoed, "The Instructor Tournament is more than tradition—it is declaration. The winning class may request one academy privilege of their choosing."
A stir spread across the hall.
"Class D, under Han Li," Principal Yun continued, "will also compete."
Gasps followed. A few nobles sneered openly.
Han Li raised a brow. "How generous," he whispered.
Principal Yun's gaze met his. "Your class—should they survive—may choose any rule to break."
Han Li smiled. "Then we'll win."
Later, his students assembled in the training grounds. Yue Qian, Long Wu, Bai Zheng, Lin Yan, and Mo Xue—all wore makeshift uniforms stitched with their new class sigil: a broken sword.
"You're joking, right?" Yue Qian muttered. "Us? Against the elite?"
Han Li tossed them a scroll. "First round—team elimination. Ten minutes. Survive."
"Survive?!" Bai Zheng squeaked.
Han Li turned, his voice soft and deadly, "You're hunted now. The Blood Scripture sent a scout. More will come. This isn't just a game."
Mo Xue's eyes sharpened. "So the tournament… is bait?"
Han Li nodded. "And I'll use it to smoke them out."
The winds shifted.
In the distance, the tournament gates opened with a thunderous boom.
Class D took their first steps toward war.