CHAPTER 3 — SHADOWS AMONG THE ELDERSTONES
The sun had just begun its climb over Wen Clan Mountain when Wen Chen stepped into the main courtyard. The training grounds were alive with activity: disciples leaping and striking, staffs and blades slicing through the air, and faint traces of qi swirling like invisible ribbons. Yet all of it barely registered in his mind.
His eyes were fixed on something unseen, a subtle vibration beneath the earth, a whisper of energy that only he could feel. A faint glimmer floated before him — [Luck Points +1] — and Wen Chen's pulse quickened. His body had grown accustomed to this hidden rhythm. It was like a secret pulse of the world itself, invisible to others, yet now part of him.
He moved through the courtyard, careful not to bump into anyone. The other disciples were too preoccupied with their drills to notice the faint gleam that followed his gaze. Only he could see the Luck Points, only he could grasp this invisible advantage. Each step he took was measured, precise, deliberate.
Then a voice called out sharply from the side of the training field.
"You! Stop daydreaming and pay attention!"
Wen Chen's gaze flicked to the speaker — a senior disciple practicing advanced sword forms. His stance was perfect, but his movements lacked subtlety. Wen Chen ignored him. Words were insignificant compared to the pulse he had sensed moments ago.
Another shimmer appeared — a tiny, golden orb hovering near the wooden training dummies. He approached slowly, crouching slightly as he extended a hand.
[Luck Points +2]
The orb dissolved under his touch, releasing warmth that traveled through his veins and settled in his chest. Each point was more than just a number. Each point was growth, a hidden edge over everyone else in the clan, a fragment of potential no one else could see or claim.
"Interesting," Wen Chen murmured. "The more I touch them… the stronger I feel."
He glanced around, ensuring no one else was watching. The other disciples continued their drills, oblivious to the invisible tide of power flowing around him. He could almost hear the pulse of the orbs — a quiet, urgent rhythm, as though they were calling only to him.
As he absorbed the last of the visible orbs, Wen Chen's focus shifted. Something moved in the shadowed corner of the courtyard. Not a disciple. Not a servant. Something… older.
A figure stood silently behind one of the stone pillars. His robes were dark, flowing like smoke, and his posture was relaxed but controlled. Wen Chen's heart beat a little faster.
Who is that?
The man's eyes, narrow and calculating, scanned the courtyard with precision. He didn't approach, didn't speak, yet his presence pressed on the atmosphere like a weight. Wen Chen could feel it.
Powerful. Cold. Observant… and very deliberate.
The figure's gaze lingered for a moment on him, then shifted away, scanning the other disciples. Wen Chen felt a chill. Though the man did not move, Wen Chen's instincts screamed caution. This was not a casual observer. This was someone who could notice even the slightest anomaly in the flow of cultivation, someone who might pose a threat.
He straightened, adjusting his stance subtly, and turned toward the orbs that still lingered faintly in the courtyard. [Luck Points +1] flickered in his vision — a silent reminder that even small actions mattered, that even hidden power could be noticed.
The figure behind the pillar took a slow step back, disappearing into the shadows of the hall. Wen Chen watched for a moment longer but said nothing. Whoever this was, they had already sensed him — not the Luck Points, not the orbs, just him. And that alone was enough to keep him alert.
He moved to a nearby training dummy, practicing quietly, allowing his spiritual senses to stretch subtly toward the shadowed corners. The courtyard was large, but the pulse he had sensed earlier lingered faintly in one area — a hidden trace that seemed unnatural.
As he worked, he reflected on his father. Wen Jian had always been strict but fair. His approval was earned, never given freely, and the lessons he taught were always edged with love. Wen Chen could feel that guidance even now, as though the memory of his father's discipline flowed through him, bolstering him as he cultivated in secret.
The thought brought a small smile. I won't fail him. Not now, not ever.
Another orb appeared near the eastern edge of the courtyard. Wen Chen's eyes lit up. He approached it, hands steady, and touched it lightly. The warmth surged, and the panel appeared again — [Luck Points +3].
The number made his heart race. It wasn't the strength of the points themselves, but the knowledge that each one was a step beyond what others could sense, beyond what others could touch. It was an edge that had always been denied to him, now finally within reach.
He paused and looked around. The shadowed figure had not returned. But the impression remained. Cold. Calculating. Dangerous. The sense of being watched lingered like a fine thread in the back of his mind.
Wen Chen crouched slightly, lowering his gaze to the stone tiles. He felt a subtle vibration in the earth beneath his feet, almost like the faint echo of heavy footsteps, but no one was moving near him.
Someone powerful is close. Not an ordinary cultivator…
He rose slowly, eyes scanning the perimeter. Each breath was measured. Each movement deliberate. If this person decided to test him, Wen Chen wanted to be ready. And more importantly, he wanted to understand how to prepare for them.
The golden sunlight climbed higher, reflecting off the rooftops and illuminating the courtyard. Most disciples had begun to tire, their training slowing. Wen Chen, however, remained focused. His pulse of energy, amplified by the absorbed orbs, made his body feel sharper, lighter, more responsive.
He smiled faintly. "A taste of power…" he whispered. "And there's still so much more to learn."
Then, a soft wind brushed past, carrying an unfamiliar scent. It was not malicious, but it held the faint metallic tang of calculation, of ambition. His eyes narrowed. He didn't know the name, didn't know the purpose — only that someone was moving behind the walls of the clan, observing him, weighing him.
Another point flickered in his vision — [Luck Points +1] — almost as if the world itself was acknowledging the presence of someone stronger watching him.
Wen Chen's chest tightened with anticipation. He understood, at a basic level, that he was no longer just a boy with a Mortal Root. He was stepping into a realm where others could see power, sense potential, and recognize danger — even if they didn't understand it fully.
And if someone like that is already watching me… then I need to be ready for anything.
He straightened, brushing dust from his robe, and looked once more toward the shadows. Whatever this figure's intent, Wen Chen was determined: he would grow. He would absorb every advantage. He would rise. And when the time came, no hidden observer, no scheming elder, would be able to touch him without consequence.
The courtyard stretched wide before him, alive with the clamor of ordinary cultivators unaware of the invisible currents shifting around them. Wen Chen clenched his fists. He could feel it in his bones, in his spirit: today was the first day of a new chapter. Today, he had tasted power — and the first shadow of danger had already noticed.
He inhaled deeply, and with a calm, precise step, he moved toward the training dummies once more, ready to push further, ready to claim the next point, ready to face the unknown.
The game had begun.