The courtyard was alive with motion. Cultivators surged back and forth, executing precise techniques as the morning sun bathed the stone tiles in golden light. From the sidelines, Bella watched with sharp eyes, hands folded behind her back, her posture regal and calm.
Beside her, Elder Glenda observed silently, her aged eyes following the drills with a distant look. She had always carried an air of authority, but this morning, something in her aura felt… brittle. Like a glass blade hidden in silk.
"Too much flare in their footwork," Bella murmured. "If this were real battle, three of them would be dead already."
Glenda smiled thinly. "They're still young. Let them stumble now while they can still learn from it."
Bella said nothing in response. Her thoughts were elsewhere.
Specifically, on the letter.
On Julian.
On the strange restlessness that had settled in her bones ever since she received that message from the Vyre family.
