Morning light spilled over Heaven Dou Imperial Academy, catching the dew on the stone path as Arthev made his way toward the Royal Team's private training grounds. The black-and-gold uniform clung to him just right, a little heavy, but comfortable. It felt like stepping into a second skin.
'You're walking straight into a pit of elites, kid,' Shukaku's voice rumbled in his head, thick with a lazy drawl. 'Try not to break 'em. They're glass.'
'They aren't fragile,' Matatabi countered, her tone quiet but steady. 'Just baseline. Stop measuring everyone against your own yardstick.'
Arthev didn't bother answering either of them. He just kept walking, stepping beneath the academy's stone archway.
The grounds weren't empty. Yu Feng was already there, hovering a few inches off the packed earth as he meditated, his breathing slow and even. A short distance away, Ye Lingling sat cross-legged on a woven mat, eyes closed.
Arthev approached. Her lashes fluttered open, and for a moment, he noticed the tension was gone from her shoulders. She looked lighter. More at peace than she'd been back in Forest.
"You're early," he said.
"Could say the same about you," she replied, offering a faint smile.
"Actually, you're both running behind."
"Training starts at sunrise," Arthev said, tilting his head toward the east. The first sliver of sun was just cresting the distant peaks.
"Sun's not even up yet,"
Qin Ming's lip twitched with amusement. "Fair point. Take your place. The others will be here shortly."
Arthev lowered himself to the ground, folding his legs. He didn't bother cycling his soul power right away. Instead, he let his senses stretch out, reading the space. Reinforced stone beneath the dirt. The air felt heavier than usual, probably a gathering array humming just below the surface. Good setup.
Ten minutes later, footsteps sounded on the gravel. Yu Tianheng led the way, Dugu Yan at his side. Her usual pallor was still there, but her steps were easier, the poison's grip on her joints finally loosened. Behind them trailed the Graphite brothers and Osler.
They all stopped dead when they spotted Arthev.
The silence stretched. A week ago, he'd been the outsider who tore through their formation and left them swallowing pride. Now, he was wearing their colors.
Yu Tianheng broke the quiet first. He didn't look bitter anymore. If anything, there was a quiet respect in his stance as he walked over.
"You actually went through with it," he said.
"I did," Arthev replied, rising to his feet.
Yu Tianheng held out a hand. "Then welcome to the team."
Arthev took it. The grip was firm. "Thanks, Captain."
Qin Ming clapped his hands, sharp and loud. "Alright, line up!"
Eight students fell into formation. Qin Ming's gaze swept over them, satisfied.
"Today, we start prepping for the Continental Advanced Soul Master Tournament," he announced, his voice carrying easily across the grounds. "With Arthev on board, this squad is stronger than it's ever been. But we've got a problem."
He let that hang for a second. "The rules only allow seven on the field at once. We've got eight."
Nobody said anything. They all knew what that meant. Someone was going to the bench.
In any other scenario, this would've sparked a fight. These were heirs, prodigies, nobles with pride to spare. None of them wanted to watch from the sidelines.
"I'm not gonna sugarcoat it," Qin Ming went on. "Normally, I'd rotate based on matchups or recent performance. But Arthev's… different."
His eyes locked onto the boy in black. "He's already proven his combat capability blows past standard Soul Elder benchmarks. He can held his own against Tianheng one-on-one, and in team drills, he dismantled our entire formation without breaking a sweat."
Yu Tianheng's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. It was the truth, plain and simple.
"So," Qin Ming continued, his tone leaving no room for debate, "I've already made the call on the roster. Arthev won't be in the starting lineup. He'll be our substitute."
Dugu Yan's brows shot up. "Teacher, hold on. Arthev's easily the strongest one here. Why bench him? You're sitting our best fighter?"
"I'm keeping our sharpest blade sheathed," Qin Ming corrected smoothly. "In the arena, we played our hand too early. Surprise is a tactical asset, and I'm not wasting it again. Arthev isn't a benchwarmer. He's our trump card."
He turned to face the boy in black. "You'll only step onto the field when it actually matters. Against other seeded teams, or if the starting lineup gets compromised. Otherwise, you watch. You study. You map out the competition. Any objections?"
Arthev didn't blink. "I'm not here for the spotlight. The bench works fine for me. Gives me more time to… calculate."
'Calculate, sleep, eat,' Shukaku drawled in his head. 'Hell of a deal. Let the kids break a sweat while you play chess.'
Qin Ming gave a satisfied nod and turned to the rest of the squad. "Anyone else have a problem with this?"
Nobody spoke. The memory of Arthev's pitch-black soul ring still hung heavy in their minds. They hadn't forgotten how he'd halted a roaring lightning dragon with nothing but sand and sheer pressure. Even Yu Tianheng knew the gap between them wasn't something pride could bridge. Saving him for the heavy matches just made tactical sense.
"Good," Qin Ming said. "Now, here's how we're going to run things."
He tapped a slate he'd pulled from his sleeve. "Mornings are for team sparring. We need to figure out how Arthev slots into the formation for when he does play. But if he goes all out, practice ends before it begins. So…" A faint smirk touched his lips. "We're putting limits on him."
Arthev nodded. "What kind of limits?"
"No Third Ring. You'll stick to hand-to-hand combat and use your First Ring strictly for crowd control. Keep it balanced."
"Understood."
"Afternoons are for conditioning," Qin Ming went on. "You've seen what Arthev's body can do. That kind of durability doesn't come from talent alone, it's forged. You're all going to train exactly like he does."
A collective groan rippled through the Graphite brothers. They'd heard the rumors: iron weights, brutal endurance runs, the kind of regimen that made grown men quit.
"Don't worry about pulling something," Qin Ming added, nodding toward Ye Lingling.
"Lingling's on healing duty after every set. Which means no excuses. You'll push until you drop, she'll patch you up, and you'll get right back to it."
Ye Lingling gave a quiet nod. "I'm ready."
"Evenings are yours," Qin Ming finished.
"But don't waste them. Use the time to cultivate. Arthev's at Rank 35. Captain Yu's at 39. The gap's closing, and I expect everyone to break through at least one rank before the month's out. The qualifiers don't care about reputations, and I won't have Heaven Dou's Royal Team caught off guard."
He set the slate aside. "Before we spar, we need to get on the same page. Arthev knows how you fight because he's already beaten you. But you don't know how to fight with him yet. And he needs to understand exactly what your support skills can do."
Qin Ming gestured to the center of the training ground. "Introduce your martial souls and skill sets. Full breakdowns. Captain, you're up first."
Yu Tianheng stepped forward, rolling his shoulders as blue lightning crackled to life around his right arm. The air grew sharp with static.
"Yu Tianheng," he said, voice steady. "Rank 39. Power-attack system. Martial Soul: Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon."
To be continued.....