The robes of an inner disciple fit differently.
Not just in size or quality, but in weight.
Tae-hyun stood before the mirror in his new quarters. The dark blue fabric shimmered with woven runes—subtle enhancements that responded to the wearer's mana. He flexed his hand. The robe shimmered in kind.
"Looks ridiculous," Yul muttered, lounging on a windowsill with one leg dangling outside. "You look like you're cosplaying a noble."
Tae-hyun arched a brow. "You don't even know what cosplay is."
She smirked. "And you still look like one."
Despite the sarcasm, Tae-hyun could see it—the faint nod of approval in her expression. A kind of trust growing between them, cautious but present.
He turned away from the mirror. "What's the itinerary?"
Yul swung her legs back in. "You're summoned to the Gathering Hall at noon. Inner disciples are expected to attend the monthly conclave. Meet your peers. Smile. Try not to punch anyone."
"No promises."
She smirked again.
---
The Gathering Hall was carved into the heart of a mountainside. It pulsed with energy—mana veins running through the walls like glowing rivers, illuminating the cavern with a soft bluish light.
Tae-hyun stood at the entrance. Dozens of disciples filled the hall, each radiating power. Some were dressed in silks, others in battle-worn armor, but all had the air of pride—the cultivated arrogance of those who'd clawed their way to the top.
Conversations halted as he entered.
Whispers followed.
"Is that him?"
"The one who broke the guardian?"
"He's not even from a noble house…"
Tae-hyun ignored them.
He walked straight to the center, where a circle of seats awaited the inner disciples. As he took his place, he felt the weight of gazes settle on him like stones.
Then came the one he recognized.
The youth from the balcony.
A golden-eyed disciple with sleek black robes and a sigil embroidered in silver—a twin serpent swallowing its tail.
He walked with lazy confidence and sat beside Tae-hyun.
"Bold of you to sit here," he said, voice smooth as silk.
Tae-hyun didn't look at him. "Didn't realize it was reserved."
"Oh, not officially," the man replied. "But usually only those with pedigree sit in the first ring. Bloodlines. Legacies."
Tae-hyun turned his gaze slowly. "Then maybe it's time for a new tradition."
That earned a chuckle. "I like you. Name's Jinhwan. Son of Elder Seo."
Tae-hyun didn't offer his own.
Jinhwan noticed but said nothing. His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Watch your back, outsider. The sect isn't kind to those who disrupt the order. Especially not during the Outer Trials."
"Outer Trials?" Tae-hyun asked.
"Oh, right. No one told you." Jinhwan leaned closer. "It's a special rite. Happens once a year. Inner disciples are sent beyond the sect's borders to hunt, explore, or complete a challenge. Dangerous. Brutal. Perfect for trimming the weak."
"And?"
"And this year," Jinhwan grinned, "you've been nominated to lead a team."
Tae-hyun's eyes narrowed. "By who?"
Jinhwan stood, brushing off imaginary dust. "Let's just say… some of the elders want to see what you're really made of."
The conclave began moments later, but Tae-hyun's thoughts remained elsewhere.
He had come here to grow stronger. To understand this world. But now, he could feel it—forces moving beneath the surface. Politics. Power games. Hidden hands shaping the path ahead.
And he was walking straight into the storm.
---
Later that night, Yul found him on the rooftop, arms crossed, eyes on the moon.
"They're sending me on some Outer Trial," he said without turning. "Probably to get me killed."
"Probably," she replied bluntly. "That's sect life."
He looked at her. "Will you come?"
Yul looked up at the stars. "Was told to watch your back, remember? Guess that includes walking into death traps."
A silence settled between them.
Then Tae-hyun said softly, "Good. Because I'm not planning to die. Not until I find out why I was brought here."
---
Three days.
That was all the time Tae-hyun had before the Outer Trial began—and the sect made it clear: no one survived the trial alone.
He stood beneath the Twin Crane Pavilion, a place known for duels, recruitment, and negotiations between disciples. Stone lanterns lined the courtyard, and scrolls fluttered in the wind—each one bearing names of volunteers seeking to join a team, or challenges from those who wanted to test the newcomers.
Yul leaned casually against a beam nearby, chewing on a straw. "Looks like everyone wants to see what the 'Flame Reaper' can do."
Tae-hyun didn't respond. His eyes scanned the scrolls, but he wasn't looking for volunteers.
He was looking for killers. Survivors. The ones with something to prove.
From behind, a voice called out, light and clear. "Looking to build a team, newbie?"
He turned.
A girl stood before him, wearing the black-and-red robes of the Shadow Veil Hall. Her hair was silver, cut short, and a blindfold covered her eyes. Yet her presence was sharp—like a dagger drawn halfway from its sheath.
"I heard you drained the guardian," she said, tapping the blindfold. "Didn't see it, but the mana shift was… vivid."
"You're blind?" Tae-hyun asked bluntly.
She smiled. "Sightless. Not helpless. Name's Rika."
Yul raised an eyebrow. "She's fast. Too fast."
"Then she's in," Tae-hyun said without hesitation.
Yul blinked. "What?"
"She needs no sight to see intent. That's useful."
Rika smirked. "I like you already."
They moved deeper into the pavilion. Tae-hyun kept his posture relaxed, but inside, his mind was calculating—evaluating each candidate, each rumor. He didn't need a perfect team. He needed unpredictable elements. Variables. People the others wouldn't see coming.
By noon, three more joined.
Daon, a hulking Murim rogue expelled from his clan for refusing to kill a child during a raid. He fought with an iron staff the size of a small tree and spoke in few words.
Minjae, a Formation Artist with a twitchy demeanor and a stutter, but an unmatched ability to lay traps and warding circles. He was eccentric—talked to his ink brush—but his work was lethal.
And finally, Rin, a healer with a strange aura. She didn't use traditional qi, but something darker—spirit-based energy that smelled faintly of incense and decay. No one knew her origin, and no one dared ask.
By dusk, they gathered in an abandoned training hall on the outskirts of the sect.
Yul looked around, arms crossed. "This is your team? A blind assassin, a rogue giant, a mumbling scribe, and a spirit witch?"
Tae-hyun nodded. "Yes."
She laughed once. "You're either brilliant or insane."
Tae-hyun looked at each of them in turn. "We're not here to impress the sect. We're here to survive the trial. I don't care about tradition, bloodlines, or status. If you pull your weight, I'll protect you. If you betray me…"
The room turned cold. Even Minjae stopped doodling.
"I'll make sure you regret it."
There was silence.
Then Rika grinned. "Good speech."
Rin tilted her head. "And if we die?"
Tae-hyun met her eyes. "Then we die knowing we didn't beg."
Yul watched him from the shadows, her gaze unreadable. For the first time, she saw not the confused outsider, but a leader—someone who had no need to be accepted, only to carve his place through force of will.
And in three days, that will would be tested.
---