I watched the old master, Elder Harun as he walked away before turning back to the guys with a shit eating grin.
Rikan grinned in response to mine. "What's next, boss?"
I mellowed down to a softer smile, feeling my hand throb as it still ached from the duel.
"Next? We rest, we heal… and we hold those ranks."
Tesgan snorted. "You make it sound easy."
"Easy?" I laughed. "Not at all. But we didn't come this far to give it back, right?"
The cheers around us slowly faded into the hum of the courtyard settling again, but something had shifted permanently in the air not just power, but recognition. The sect would never look at us the same way again.
That evening, as the sun bled gold over the walls, our small celebration in the training hall echoed with laughter, bruised pride, and a shared sense of disbelief.
Orin sat quietly at the edge, cleaning his blade. I walked over and handed him a cup of water.
"You fought beautifully," I said.
