The sun rose over Mist City, painting the sky in hues of blood orange and bruised purple. It was the day of the Grand Family Assessment.
For the disciples of the Silver-Iron Clan, this day was everything. It determined their future, their allowance, and their status. Success meant glory; failure meant being cast out to manage the farms or the mines.
But in the small, broken room of the North Courtyard, the atmosphere was different. There was no panic, no frantic last-minute training. There was only the sound of water splashing.
Kaelen was washing his face.
The water was cold, but it felt grounding. He looked into the cracked bronze mirror. The face staring back was young, handsome, but pale. It lacked the scar he had on his cheek in his previous life. It lacked the wrinkles of worry that came with ruling a galaxy.
'This face is soft,' Kaelen thought, touching his reflection. 'But the eyes... the eyes are the same.'
Behind him, Uncle Hwan was pacing back and forth, his hands trembling as he smoothed out Kaelen's only clean set of robes. The robes were old, the grey fabric faded to a dull white, but Hwan had ironed them until they were crisp.
"Young Master," Hwan's voice quivered. "I heard that the Third Elder is presiding over the test today. He... he hates your father. He will look for any excuse to fail you."
Hwan walked over and adjusted Kaelen's collar, his rough fingers brushing Kaelen's neck with motherly care. "Maybe... maybe we shouldn't go. We can leave the city. I can work. I can carry sacks at the docks. We don't have to face their mockery."
Kaelen turned. He took Hwan's trembling hands in his own.
"Uncle," Kaelen said, his voice calm like a deep lake. "Do you remember the story I told you when I was a child? About the lion and the hyenas?"
Hwan blinked, confused. "I... yes. The hyenas laughed because the lion was sleeping."
"Exactly," Kaelen smiled gently. "Today, the lion wakes up. And when a lion wakes, he does not run from hyenas. He walks through them."
Kaelen turned and walked out of the door. Hwan watched him go, stunned. For a moment, the slouch in Kaelen's back was gone. The boy walking into the morning light didn't look like a cripple. He walked with a rhythm, a cadence that felt... regal. It was as if the mud beneath his feet was a red carpet.
...
The Clan Training Square was packed.
Hundreds of disciples stood in rows, wearing fresh blue uniforms. Elders sat on a raised platform, drinking tea and chatting. In the center of the square stood a massive, black stone—the Obsidian Testing Monolith.
When Kaelen and Hwan arrived, the noise in the square didn't stop, but it changed. The chatter turned into whispers. Snickers. Pointed fingers.
"Look, the trash is here."
"He actually came? I thought he died in the forest."
"Look at his clothes. Does he think this is a beggar's convention?"
Kaelen walked through the crowd. He didn't look left. He didn't look right. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, focused on nothing and everything.
This was the "Emperor's Walk."
In his past life, when Valerius walked into the Divine Court, gods would bow. He learned that if you acknowledge an insult, you give it power. If you ignore it, you declare it beneath your notice.
Hwan, walking behind him, shrank under the gazes. He tried to make himself small.
Suddenly, a leg shot out.
It was a disciple from the branch family, trying to trip Hwan.
"Watch out, old dog!" the disciple laughed.
Hwan stumbled, about to fall face-first onto the stone pavement.
But he didn't fall.
A hand caught him. Kaelen's hand.
Kaelen pulled Hwan back up effortlessly. Then, he slowly turned his head to look at the disciple who had extended his leg.
Kaelen didn't say a word. He didn't frown. He just looked.
His eyes were void of anger. They were void of humanity. It was the look a butcher gives to a piece of meat on a chopping block. Dead.
The disciple's laugh died in his throat. A chill ran down his spine, cold and sharp. He instinctively took a step back, his face paling. "I... I..."
Kaelen turned back to Hwan, his face softening instantly. "Walk beside me, Uncle. Do not walk behind. Today, you bow to no one."
He guided Hwan to the front, right near the testing area.
"Kaelen!"
A sharp voice cut through the air. Jareth stepped forward. His neck was bandaged from where Kaelen had chopped him yesterday. His eyes were burning with humiliation and hate.
"You have some nerve showing up," Jareth hissed, lowering his voice so the Elders wouldn't hear. "You used a surprise attack in the forest. Dirty tricks. But today? Today is the Strength Test. You can't fake raw power on the Monolith."
Kaelen looked at Jareth. He felt a twinge of pity.
'In my past life, my enemies were Demon Kings who could swallow suns. Now, my enemy is a boy who is proud of being a Rank 3 Apprentice. How low have I fallen.'
"Are you finished?" Kaelen asked politely.
Jareth flushed red. "You—!"
"Silence!"
A booming voice echoed from the platform. The Third Elder stood up. He was a tall man with a goat-ee beard and harsh eyes.
"The Assessment begins now!" the Elder announced. "The first test is Raw Strength. You must strike the Obsidian Monolith.
Rank 1 requires 200 lbs of force.
Rank 2 requires 400 lbs.
Rank 3 requires 600 lbs.
Anything less than 200 lbs... and you are expelled from the inner clan!"
The disciples lined up.
Bam! "250 lbs! Pass!"
Bam! "380 lbs! Pass!"
Jareth stepped up. He glared at Kaelen, then channeled his Qi. He roared and punched the stone.
BOOM!
Numbers glowed on the stone: 650 lbs.
"Rank 3! Excellent!" The Third Elder nodded approvingly. "Jareth is truly a talent."
Jareth smirked, crossing his arms. "Top that, trash."
Then, it was Garret's turn. The genius. He stepped up casually, barely putting in effort.
Bam!
900 lbs. (Rank 4 Peak).
The crowd gasped. "As expected of the First Elder's son!"
Finally, the steward called out the name everyone was waiting for.
"Kaelen."
The square went quiet. A heavy, mocking silence.
Kaelen stepped forward. He stood before the massive black stone. It was cold and imposing.
Hwan clenched his hands together, praying silently. 'Please, let him hit 200. Just 200. Just enough to stay.'
Kaelen looked at the stone.
In his mind, he wasn't looking at a rock. He was analyzing its structure.
'Obsidian. Brittle structure. If I hit it with full force, my current body will shatter the bones in my hand. But... if I use the Dragon's Vibration Technique...'
He didn't take a combat stance. He didn't scream or roar like Jareth. He didn't channel visible aura like Garret.
He simply raised his right hand, open palm, and placed it gently against the surface of the stone.
"What is he doing?" someone laughed. "Is he petting it?"
"Maybe he is asking it to be nice to him!"
Laughter rippled through the crowd. The Third Elder frowned. "Kaelen! This is not a playground. Strike it or leave!"
Kaelen ignored them. He closed his eyes.
He remembered his throne. He remembered the weight of the crown. He remembered the solitude of being at the peak.
'Power is not noise,' Kaelen thought. 'Power is the silence before the earthquake.'
He adjusted his breathing. His internal organs shifted. The drop of Dragon Blood in his heart pulsed once.
One pulse.
The energy traveled from his heart, to his shoulder, spiraling down his arm, through his wrist, and into his palm.
He didn't pull his hand back to punch. He simply... pushed.
A short, one-inch jolt.
Thud.
It was a dull, quiet sound. Like a heavy book falling on a carpet.
The crowd waited.
Nothing happened.
Jareth burst out laughing. "Zero! He didn't even trigger the sensor! It's zero!"
Hwan's face fell into his hands. He couldn't bear to watch.
But then...
Cr...
A small sound came from the stone.
Crack...
The laughter stopped.
A thin, hairline fracture appeared exactly where Kaelen's palm was touching.
CRACK!
The fracture spread. It shot up to the top of the monolith and down to the base like a lightning bolt.
The numbers on the stone flickered frantically.
100... 500... 900... ERROR.
The stone couldn't measure the force because the force wasn't just on the surface. Kaelen had sent the vibration inside the stone.
BOOM!
A chunk of the massive Obsidian Monolith, weighing at least fifty pounds, broke off from the back and crashed to the ground.
Dust rose in the air.
Kaelen withdrew his hand. He dusted off his palm, as if he had just touched something dirty.
The square was dead silent.
Not a whisper. Not a breath.
The Third Elder's teacup slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor. Garret's eyes were wide, his composure gone. Jareth looked like he had seen a ghost.
Kaelen turned around. He looked at the stunned Steward recording the scores.
"I believe," Kaelen said, his voice soft yet cutting through the silence like a blade, "that is more than 200 pounds. Correct?"
He walked back to Hwan. The crowd parted for him instantly, like the Red Sea parting for Moses. No one dared to touch him. No one dared to trip him.
Hwan stared at Kaelen, his mouth open, unable to comprehend what just happened.
Kaelen offered his arm to the old man.
"Close your mouth, Uncle," Kaelen whispered with a faint, mischievous smile that only Hwan could see. "We don't want to catch flies. We have a tournament to win."
He walked away, leaving a broken stone and a broken hierarchy in his wake.
He hadn't revealed he was an Emperor.
He hadn't used a flashy golden dragon avatar.
He had simply shown them that their "stone" was too fragile to measure his soul.