The warning from Wang Jin was a stone in Li Yao's gut. He had known his methods would draw scrutiny, but the existence of a formal "Orthodoxy Faction" changed the calculus entirely. This wasn't just about curiosity or utility; it was about dogma, and dogma was unforgiving.
He became a ghost in the Inner Sect. His movements were precise, his interactions minimal. He attended all lectures, performed all drills with flawless, anonymous competence. He was a model disciple, a grey rock in a stream of brilliant talents. He let the rumors about the Serpent's Spine mission—whispers of his cowardice, his luck, his strange, one-armed survival—circulate unchecked. Better to be seen as lucky than heretical.
He focused his efforts in the only safe haven he had left: the Grand Scripture Repository's second floor. He wasn't searching for techniques anymore. He was searching for context. He devoured histories of the sect, biographies of past elders, treaties on political factions within the Azure Bloom Kingdom. The System cross-referenced everything, building a map of power, alliance, and vendetta.
It was here he found the first thread. A century-old scroll, a dry account of a resource dispute with a rival sect, mentioned in passing the "Hong Purge." Elder Hong's grandfather had led a faction that rooted out and executed several promising disciples accused of "demonic collaboration." Their crime? Using unorthodox beast-taming techniques that involved spiritual resonance instead of brute-force domination.
The pattern was clear. The Orthodoxy Faction didn't just dislike new ideas; they saw them as an existential threat. Their power was built on controlling the "right" way to cultivate, and anyone who found a better path was a heretic to be burned.
His quiet research did not go unnoticed.
A week later, as he was transcribing a complex formation diagram, a presence settled beside him. It was not the contained power of Elder Guo or the sharp intensity of Elder Zhu. This aura was dry, brittle, and carried the faint scent of old parchment and dust.
"Disciple Li Yao."
Li Yao looked up. The man was old, his back slightly stooped, his robes a simple, unadorned grey. He had a kind, scholarly face, but his eyes were like chips of flint. This was Elder Hong.
"This one greets Elder Hong," Li Yao said, setting down his brush and bowing respectfully.
"The 'Resonance Purification' theory you proposed in Elder Feng's lecture," Hong began without preamble, his voice a soft rasp. "A fascinating, if unproven, concept. Not one found in our canon. Where did a disciple of your… background… encounter such advanced alchemical theory?"
The trap was baited with academic curiosity. Li Yao kept his expression neutral, his spiritual signature perfectly calm. "This disciple's understanding is shallow. I merely observed patterns in the natural world during my missions. The way sound can cancel noise, light can negate shadow. I applied the principle to energy. It was a novice's speculation."
"Speculation," Hong repeated, the word hanging in the air. "Yet it displayed an intuitive grasp of harmonic principles that eludes many of our senior alchemists." He picked up the scroll Li Yao had been reading, his eyes scanning the page about the Hong Purge. He showed no reaction. "You spend much time in the past, Disciple Li. Do you find the lessons of history… instructive?"
"They remind this disciple that the path of cultivation is long and often perilous," Li Yao replied carefully. "And that a sect's strength lies in the unity of its disciples."
"A noble sentiment," Hong said, a faint, cold smile touching his lips. "Unity under a common doctrine. A shared path. Straying from that path, no matter how intriguing the side trail may seem, often leads only to a precipice." He set the scroll down. "The Inner Sect exam tested your will and comprehension. But a cultivator's true worth is measured in contribution. The Orthodoxy Faction is sponsoring a mission. A group of disciples, led by my grandson, Hong Li, will cleanse the 'Blighted Grove' to the east. It is overrun with Wood-attribute aberrations. Your unique… observational skills… would be a valuable asset. Consider it an opportunity to prove your dedication to the sect's orthodox methods."
It was not a request. It was a summons to an inquisition disguised as a mission. The Blighted Grove was known to be a deathtrap, a place where standard techniques were less effective. They wanted to see his heresy in action, to document it, and likely, to arrange a convenient "accident."
Li Yao bowed his head. "This disciple is honored by the Elder's trust. I will strive to contribute."
"See that you do," Elder Hong said, and glided away as silently as he had come.
The web was closing. He had to walk into this trap, because refusal would be seen as an admission of guilt. But he couldn't go in unprepared.
He spent his remaining time and sect points not on offensive techniques, but on defense and utility. He commissioned a set of "Null-Plates"—inscribed metal discs that created a localized dampening field against spiritual perception. He wouldn't be able to hide a major display of power, but he could obscure the fine details.
He also visited the Artificers' Hall again. He didn't need a new arm, but he needed his spatial limb to be more than a secret. He needed it to have an orthodox explanation.
Using the last of his resources, he commissioned a sheath. A beautifully crafted, articulated gauntlet of Spirit-Iron and White-Jade, designed to fit over his spatial arm. To any observer, it would look like an expensive, if peculiar, prosthetic. But its true purpose was to mask the limb's unique spiritual signature behind layers of inert, but spiritually conductive, material. It was a disguise for his greatest secret.
The day of the mission arrived. The team was five disciples, all from well-connected orthodox families. The leader, Hong Li, was a mirror of his grandfather—cold, arrogant, with a Mid Core Formation aura that was rigid and uncompromising. He looked at Li Yao's newly sheathed arm with open contempt.
"The cripple arrives," Hong Li sneered. "Try to keep up. And keep your… speculations… to yourself. We do things the proper way here."
The Blighted Grove was a place of twisted, malevolent life. The trees were warped and blackened, their branches like claws. The air hummed with a dissonant wood energy that sapped vitality and clouded the mind. Wood-attribute beasts, corrupted by the grove's heart, prowled the shadows—thorn-wolves with bark-like skin, and vine-tendrils that lashed out from the undergrowth.
The orthodox way, as demonstrated by Hong Li, was direct annihilation. He and his followers used blazing fire techniques and crushing earth spells, their attacks powerful but wasteful, the chaotic energy of the grove disrupting their aim and efficiency. They fought with brute force, and the grove absorbed their violence, growing more agitated.
Li Yao fought at the rear, his role officially as a "support observer." He used the [Soaring Cloud Sword Art] with his sheathed spatial arm, the Spirit-Iron gauntlet allowing him to channel Qi in a perfectly orthodox manner. His movements were defensive, parrying attacks, creating openings for others. He was the picture of a loyal, if limited, disciple.
But his perception was everywhere. He could see the grove's energy flows, the nodes of corruption, the paths the aberrations used to move. He saw Hong Li overextend, a thorn-wolf flanking him while he was focused on a frontal assault.
He didn't shout a warning. That would imply a perception he shouldn't have. Instead, he "stumbled," his parry against a vine-tendril going "awry," deflecting the attack directly into the path of the flanking thorn-wolf. The beast was knocked aside, saving Hong Li from a grievous wound.
It was a performance of flawless, accidental competence.
Hong Li, startled, shot him a suspicious look, but could find no fault. The action had been clumsy, but effective.
As they pushed deeper, the corruption intensified. They reached a clearing dominated by a massive, pulsating heart of twisted wood—the Grove Creeper, a Late Core Formation entity that was the source of the blight. It was surrounded by a shifting maze of animated thorns and hallucinogenic pollen.
"This is it!" Hong Li yelled. "Standard formation! Fire and Earth barrage on my mark! We burn it to the root!"
It was a suicide charge. The Grove Creeper was a part of the environment here. A direct assault would get them all killed.
Li Yao knew this was the moment. They expected him to fail, to reveal his heresy to survive. So he would give them a different show.
As Hong Li and the others launched their attack, Li Yao didn't join them. He fell back, as if in panic. He activated the Null-Plates around himself, creating a bubble of obscured perception. Then, he focused.
He didn't use a grand spatial technique. He used his understanding of the [Law of Energetic Resonance]. He found the dissonant frequency of the Grove Creeper's core, the specific "note" of its corruption.
He pointed his sheathed, spatial hand towards the creature. Through the Spirit-Iron gauntlet, he emitted a single, pure, high-frequency pulse of Wood-attributed Qi, tuned to the exact opposite of the corruption's resonance.
It wasn't an attack. It was a cancellation.
The effect was subtle. The Grove Creeper didn't explode. It shuddered. The pulsating heart of wood faltered, its rhythm broken. The chaotic energy field around it destabilized. The animated thorns stilled for a critical second.
In that moment of confusion, Hong Li's brute-force barrage struck home. The Grove Creeper, its defenses down, was torn apart by orthodox fire and earth.
The clearing fell silent. The blight began to recede from the grove.
Hong Li and his team stood panting, believing their power had won the day. They looked at Li Yao, who was now emerging from his "panicked" position, his Null-Plates deactivated.
"You… you ran," one of the disciples accused.
"I created a diversion," Li Yao said, his voice steady. "I noticed a fluctuation in its energy core. I used a basic Wood-Soothing technique to disrupt it. It was a gamble. I'm glad it worked."
It was a lie wrapped in a half-truth. The "Wood-Soothing technique" was a real, if obscure, orthodox method. He had used it as a cover for his resonant cancellation.
Hong Li stared at him, his flinty eyes searching for deceit. But the evidence supported Li Yao's story. The Grove Creeper was dead. The mission was a success. And Li Yao had used a known, if unorthodox, sect technique to contribute. He had walked the line perfectly.
He had survived the inquisition not by hiding, but by performing a masterful act of orthodox heresy. He had given the Orthodoxy Faction a victory they could claim, while keeping his true capabilities secret. The web was still there, but he had not been caught in it. He had woven his own thread through its gaps. The slow, deadly dance for survival within the sect continued.