"May I help you, Miss?"
The soft-spoken words echoed clearly in the air, carrying more weight than a shout ever could. The rain had started falling lightly, washing over the training ground where silence had taken hold like a creeping fog. Everyone—elders, disciples, and even the Spirit Fairy—turned to the voice's direction in unison, as if compelled by an unseen force.
From the mist of rain stepped a figure—calm, composed, and utterly ordinary in appearance. He wore simple scholar's robes, slightly dampened by the rain, and held a closed book in one hand as though he had just wandered away from a quiet reading session. Yet, despite the plainness of his appearance, an azure-blue aura shimmered faintly around him, blurring the features of his face like a misted mirror. His eyes were hidden, but his gaze was felt—sharp, direct, and strangely comforting. No one could identify him, and none dared speak first.
Even more striking was the contradiction he presented: a scholar who bore no outward signs of cultivation, yet radiated an unmistakable presence. Mortals did not have such an aura. Mortals could not make elders instinctively step back, nor could they shake the certainty of those present that something powerful had just arrived.
Little Water had arrived—but cloaked in obscurity, not wishing to reveal his true identity. Only Little Fire, as he sat weakened with Spirit Fairy's arms wrapped protectively around him, noticed something unusual.
The blue aura around the newcomer called to him—not in words, but in feeling. A warmth that countered the cold poison lingering in his veins. A ripple of familiarity. Spirit Fairy, seeing Little Fire stir slightly, rushed to steady him, catching his arm as he tried to sit up.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly, brushing aside his damp hair.
"I'm fine," he said hoarsely. Then his gaze locked onto the approaching scholar cloaked in blue. "Do you... know me?"
The blue figure paused, staring at him, but said nothing in return. Instead, he spoke calmly, "It doesn't matter. I'm here to help you."
Spirit Fairy turned to him, clutching Little Fire tighter. "Then, Senior, please... can you help us take care of this elder? His name is Trouble, and he's done enough damage already."
Little Water chuckled—quietly, without malice. He looked toward the Sect Leader with a bemused glint hidden behind the veil of his aura. "Sect Leader Flame Hornet," he said gently, "I can kill him, right?"
The entire field tensed. The elder named Trouble stiffened but scoffed arrogantly, believing the scholar to be all words and no action. The Sect Leader, however, froze in place, a storm of emotions passing through his eyes. His lips parted, but no words came out.
Seeing the hesitation, Little Water added, "I know he's your brother. And I know you cannot bring yourself to kill him. But let me ask—what if he is the source of all the misfortune your clan has suffered? Will you still hesitate?"
The Sect Leader blinked, caught off-guard. "What do you mean, fellow cultivator?"
Rather than answer, Little Water turned his gaze to the elder. Without warning, he lifted his arm and made a grasping motion. A gust of water surged from the rain, like a snake slithering across the air, wrapping itself around the elder and yanking him toward Little Water's outstretched hand.
The elder cried out, but in a flash, Little Water caught his throat with one hand and pressed a glowing blue fingertip onto his forehead with the other. A strange seal lit up between them—an ancient symbol flickering across the elder's skin.
"Let everyone see what he hides in his heart," Little Water whispered.
From the rain itself, droplets spun upward and merged into a swirling mirror of water in the sky above them. It expanded quickly until it hovered above the entire Fire Clan's gathering, like a divine scrying tool. The reflection in the water shimmered, and then...
The first memory bloomed: the elder, young but clearly recognizable, stood over the sect's patriarch—his own father—his blade soaked in blood. He turned to someone off-screen and whispered, "The seat is mine now."
Gasps erupted among the elders and disciples below.
Another memory flowed into view: the elder secretly passing a scroll to a hooded stranger beneath a crimson moon. "This is the formation blueprint. Use it well."
A third memory surfaced: him in a meeting with a woman from the Water Clan, smiling as he tapped a map. "Attack from here. The defenses are weakest. No one will expect it. And make sure the woman dies—her presence is a threat to my brother."
The final memory stung deepest—because the woman he referred to had been the Sect Leader's wife.
The mirror slowly dissolved into droplets and returned to the sky, vanishing into the rain. The entire field stood frozen in silence. The Sect Leader's eyes were wide, mouth trembling, fingers twitching in disbelief.
"I..." the Sect Leader said, but no words followed.
Little Water gently released the now-terrified elder, who collapsed to his knees in silence. The blue scholar turned to Flame Hornet and spoke again, his voice low but unwavering.
"Are you still hesitant?"
---[To Be Continued]---