Before the sun even rose, sounds could be heard from the outer sect's training ground.
Cold air clung to the stone tiles, turning each breath into pale mist. Rows of disciples stood in pure silence, focused only on holding their horse stance. Sleeves fluttered faintly in the morning wind that moved down from the mountain.
No one spoke.
Talking during the morning workout was a good way to get a beating and lose dinner for the day.
Li Ren kept his stance and followed the rhythm he had been taught.
Inhale.
Hold.
Exhale.
Around him, the yard suddenly sounded alive in an uneven way, the air filled with troubled and strained breaths. Occasionally the silence was broken by instructors shouting for the disciples to keep their rhythm and concentration.
Three rows ahead of Li Ren, someone's legs began to tremble.
Li Ren did not look.
Looking meant losing your own rhythm, a hard lesson everyone learned very quickly.
Thud.
The disciple whose legs had been shaking collapsed.
No one helped. No one moved. Everyone simply held their breath because they knew what came next.
Footsteps entered the yard. Slow. Even. Unhurried.
Every disciple felt it before they saw him.
The instructors bowed first.
Then everyone else followed, movements completely in sync because they knew what it meant if they were not.
The elder. Kade.
He walked between the rows.
His robes did not rustle.
He stopped beside the fallen disciple.
For a moment, he simply watched.
Not the face.
The chest.
The rise. The fall.
The pattern of breath.
Time stretched.
Then he spoke, his voice unnervingly calm.
"If he survives, increase his rations."
A pause.
"If he dies, decrease everyone's rations."
No anger.
Not even disappointment.
Just a decision already filed away.
He continued walking.
The formation resumed the horse stance as if nothing had happened.
Li Ren kept his posture, but something in his concentration slipped.
The elder had never once looked at the boy's eyes.
Only at how efficiently he could continue training.
For the first time in his life, Li Ren wondered not whether the elder was cruel, but whether, at that height, people still looked like people at all.
After what felt like an eternity, the instructors finally shouted.
"Training is over for today. Move to the eatery before we cut your rations as well."
The formation broke instantly.
Everyone rushed toward the path leading down from the training ground.
No one helped the collapsed disciple.
No one even looked back for long.
Fear moved through the group faster than any command.
He better not die, Li Ren thought.
Everyone needed the food for the brutal training, and Li Ren, who had already collapsed earlier that week, was in no place to help anyone else. He could only silently hope the disciple survived, otherwise everyone's already small rations would shrink again.
The stone tiles felt colder as he followed the crowd.
By the time they reached the eatery, the hall was already filled with disciples who looked worn down and exhausted. Some had bruised arms. Others could barely keep their backs straight.
No one spoke.
Only the dull sound of chewing filled the room.
Either they were too tired, or they already understood the reality of this place. Anyone could disappear at any moment, so there was little point in getting attached.
The food was optimized for training.
Grain balls.
No taste. No texture. Only something dense enough to keep the body moving.
Li Ren sat down slowly, his legs still trembling from the stance.
At the table beside him, two disciples spoke in low voices.
"If he dies, we lose food again."
"Then he should have trained harder."
No anger. No sympathy. Just simple logic.
Li Ren lowered his gaze to his bowl.
The grain ball was still warm in his hand.
Around him, dozens of people ate in silence, each one focused only on their own survival.
For a moment, he wondered how long it took before this stopped feeling wrong.
He lifted the food to his mouth and forced himself to chew.