The main gate of the Vane Manor was draped in red silk.
Servants scrubbed the cobblestones until they gleamed. Rose petals were scattered on the path. The air smelled of expensive perfume, trying to mask the rot of the city.
Patriarch Vane stood at the front. He wore his ceremonial gold robes. Behind him stood the Elders and **Jarek**.
Thorne was absent. He was still in bed, drinking bone-knitting soup through a straw.
"They are coming," Patriarch Vane hissed. "Stand straight. If anyone embarrasses me today, I will skin them myself."
Jarek adjusted his fan. He looked nervous. He kept glancing toward the West Garden.
"Is *he* coming?" Jarek whispered.
"The cripple?" The Patriarch scoffed. "I told the guards to lock the West Garden. He won't ruin this."
*SCREEECH.*
A piercing cry tore through the sky.
The clouds parted. A massive shadow fell over the manor.
A beast descended.
It was a **Frost-Winged Griffin**. Twenty feet of white feathers and ice-blue scales. It radiated cold air that turned the rose petals instantly brown and brittle.
It landed with a heavy *thud*, cracking the freshly scrubbed stones.
Two figures jumped off its back.
First, a woman.
**Elara.**
She was beautiful. Pale skin, long silver hair, eyes like frozen lakes. She wore the white robes of the Frost Sect. Her expression was bored. Detached. As if the Vane family were insects beneath her boots.
Second, a man.
**Jian Chen.** Core Disciple.
He was the definition of an immortal hero. Tall. Handsome. A sword strapped to his hip that pulsed with faint blue light. His aura was unmasked—**Qi Condensation Stage 5**.
The temperature in the courtyard dropped ten degrees.
"Welcome!" Patriarch Vane bowed low. "It is an honor to host the geniuses of the Frost Sect!"
Jian Chen didn't bow back. He looked around the courtyard with a sneer.
"Small," Jian Chen said. "And the Qi here is thin. How do you people breathe this smog?"
Elara touched his arm. "Be nice, Jian. This is a backwater. They do their best."
Patriarch Vane forced a smile. "Please, come inside. We have prepared a banquet—"
*SCRAPE.*
*SCRAPE.*
*SCRAPE.*
A sound cut through the polite conversation.
It was the sound of metal grinding against stone. Heavy. Rhythmic. Annoying.
Everyone turned.
Walking up the main path, right through the frozen rose petals, was Kaelen.
He wore simple black training robes. His hair was wet, tied back in a messy bun.
And behind him, he dragged the **Nameless Slab**.
He didn't lift it. He dragged all 600 pounds of it. It gouged a deep, ugly trench into the expensive cobblestones.
"Kaelen!" The Patriarch roared, his face turning purple. "I told the guards to—"
"Your guards are taking a nap," Kaelen interrupted. He stopped ten feet away from the Griffin.
He looked at the beast.
"Big chicken," Kaelen noted. "Looks tasty."
The Griffin screeched at him, sensing a predator.
Jian Chen stepped forward. His eyes narrowed.
"So," Jian Chen smirked. "This is the ex-fiancé? The trash?"
He looked Kaelen up and down. No visible Qi. No expensive robes. Just a rusted slab of metal.
"Elara," Jian laughed. "You cried over *this*?"
Elara looked at Kaelen. Her eyes were cold.
"I didn't cry," she said flatly. "I just wasted time. Go back to your shed, Kaelen. You aren't welcome here."
Kaelen ignored her. He looked at Jian Chen.
"You must be the upgrade," Kaelen said.
He walked closer.
"Stop," Jian Chen commanded.
He didn't move. He just released his aura.
**Ice Pressure.**
A wave of freezing Qi slammed into Kaelen. It was meant to freeze his blood. To force him to his knees. The ground around Kaelen instantly frosted over.
Kaelen didn't stop.
He stepped onto the ice.
*CRACK.*
The ice shattered under his boots.
His body was now Stage 8. **Steel Bones.** **Iron Skin.**
Cold? He didn't feel cold.
He walked through the pressure like a man walking through a light breeze.
Jian Chen's smile faltered. *He didn't freeze?*
Kaelen stopped directly in front of Jian Chen. He was an inch taller than the cultivator.
"You're blocking my door," Kaelen said.
"Your door?" Jian Chen scoffed. "I am a guest of honor. You are a servant."
Jian Chen placed a hand on Kaelen's shoulder.
"Kneel."
He pushed. He used 50% of his Qi. Enough to crush a boulder.
Kaelen didn't budge. He stood like a statue rooted to the earth.
Kaelen looked at the hand on his shoulder.
"Touching me without permission," Kaelen whispered. "That's a bad habit."
Kaelen's shoulder twitched.
He didn't strike. He just... flexed.
He surged his physical strength against Jian's grip.
**Strength: 90.**
*BAM.*
The force repelled Jian's hand violently. It was like shoving a wall that shoved back.
Jian Chen stumbled back two steps. His hand numb. His eyes wide.
"You..."
The Patriarch gasped. Jarek dropped his fan.
Kaelen had just physically overpowered a Core Disciple?
Kaelen adjusted his collar.
"I'm going to eat," Kaelen said, bored. "Try not to freeze the soup."
He grabbed the handle of his slab.
*SCRAPE.*
He walked past them. Heading for the banquet hall.
"Wait!" Jian Chen snarled. His pride stung. His hand drifted to his sword hilt. Blue energy crackled.
"I challenge you!"
Kaelen stopped. He didn't turn around.
"To what? A crying contest?"
"The Tournament!" Jian Chen yelled. "In two days! I will personally enter the arena. I will cut you into ribbons in front of this entire city!"
Kaelen turned his head slightly. A demonic grin split his face.
"Careful, Upgrade," Kaelen warned.
"In the arena, there are no guards to save you."
He walked away.
Leaving the geniuses of the Frost Sect standing in the cold, wondering why they suddenly felt like the prey.