Law Enforcement Chamber

Deep within the Inner Division stood a magnificent palace. Its golden walls gleamed, every surface adorned with intricate carvings of dragons and phoenixes—a testament to both the wealth and ambition of its master.

Inside the grand hall, a silver-haired elder sat upon a throne, his face a mask of imperious authority. Kneeling before him, head bowed low, was a young man. His clothes were torn, his face bruised and bloodied, his voice thick with unshed tears.

"Master," he pleaded, "Xing Jue has gone too far! He…he humiliated me in front of everyone! You have to help me! You have to make him pay!"

The elder's eyes flashed with anger.

"You useless fool!" he roared, his voice echoing through the hall. "You call yourself my disciple? A high-rank Martial King, defeated by some mid-rank nobody? Get out of my sight!"

The young man, Luo Cheng, flinched as if he'd been struck. He bit back a sharp retort, knowing better than to anger his master further. He scrambled to his feet and fled the hall, leaving behind a trail of fear and resentment.

"You can come out now," the elder said, his voice regaining its icy calm.

A figure emerged from the shadows, an aged man dressed in the black robes of the Law Enforcement Division. This was Elder Zhu, one of the most feared men in the entire Inner Division.

"Elder Zhu," the silver-haired elder said, his voice a low growl. "You heard what that imbecile had to say? A newbie disciple, running rampant, causing chaos! Is this what I pay you for?"

Elder Zhu bowed his head. "My profound apologies, Second Elder. I will investigate this matter personally and ensure that justice is served."

"See that you do," Second Elder said, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.

Alone once more, the Second Elder leaned back on his throne. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a cup of tea from a nearby table. He sipped it slowly, his mind racing.

"Xing Jue…Xing Jue…" he murmured to himself. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

His eyes widened suddenly. "Could it be? The boy from the Outer Division? The one who dared to refuse my offer?"

The teacup, suspended mid-air, shattered into a million pieces.

Xing Jue, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in his direction, sat with his brothers in the dining hall. He'd just treated them to a lavish meal, courtesy of his recent "promotion" within the ranks of the Inner Division, and was enjoying the camaraderie; the laughter, the tall tales, the genuine affection these men showed him.

A commotion at the entrance of the hall drew his attention. His gaze followed the direction everyone else was looking at and landed on a group of disciples dressed in the distinctive black robes of the Law Enforcement Division. Each of them had a sheathed black sword strapped to their waists, the symbol of their authority.

"What are the dogs doing here?" Siyan muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Looks like they're here to arrest someone."

A shiver ran down Xing Jue's spine. He'd only been in the Inner Division a month, but he'd heard enough stories to know that when the Law Enforcement Division came calling, it was usually bad news.

"Relax," he said, trying to sound casual. "It's probably nothing to do with us."

But deep down, he couldn't shake a feeling of foreboding.

To his dismay, the group of black-clad disciples was heading straight for their table.

"Xing Jue," a voice boomed.

The disciples fanned out, surrounding their table, their faces grim, their hands hovering over their swords.

The one who'd spoken stepped forward. He was tall, powerfully built, his eyes hard as flint. He looked at Xing Jue with a mixture of contempt and something akin to…fear?

"You're coming with us."

"Get lost," Xing Jue said, his voice cold.

The disciples moved to grab him, but Xing Jue was faster. He released a burst of Martial Qi, throwing the disciples back like rag dolls.

They crashed against nearby tables, groaning in pain. The other diners, sensing trouble, scrambled out of the way, some overturning their tables in their haste to get out of the line of fire.

The captain of the Law Enforcement squad stared at Xing Jue, his eyes wide with incredulity.

"You… you dare resist arrest?"

He drew his sword, the black blade flashing menacingly in the light of the dining hall's lanterns.

"Get up," he snarled. "Right now. Or you'll regret it."

But Xing Jue wasn't listening. He was already moving. He appeared before the captain in a flash, his hand shooting out faster than the eye could follow. He grabbed the captain's wrist, twisting it sharply. There was a sickening crack as bone shattered. The captain cried out in pain, his grip on the sword loosening.

Xing Jue snatched the sword out of the air, his movements smooth and practiced. He examined the blade for a moment, then handed it back to the captain, his lips twisting into a cruel smile.

"Nice sword," he said, his voice dangerously soft. "But it's useless in the hands of an incompetent fool."

But to his astonishment—to the astonishment of everyone present—the blade snapped in two. One moment it was whole, vibrating with deadly intent, and the next, it was nothing more than two useless pieces of metal, clattering to the ground.

The captain stumbled back, his face draining of color. He knew, in that instant, that he'd grossly misjudged his opponent. This young disciple was far more powerful than he'd anticipated.

"Y-you…" he stammered, his voice a barely audible croak.

"You what?" Xing Jue said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Cat got your tongue? And they call you captain…"

"Enough of this!" a new voice boomed, cutting through the tension like a knife.

The crowd parted as a figure strode towards them. It was an elder, his black robes marking him as a member of the Law Enforcement Division. He moved with the effortless grace of a predator, his eyes scanning the room, settling on Xing Jue with a look that could curdle blood.

"Elder Zhu," the disciples whispered, their voices hushed with fear and respect.

This was Elder Zhu, one of the most powerful elders of the Law Enforcement Division—a mid-rank Martial Lord.

"So," Elder Zhu said, fixing his gaze on Xing Jue. "You're the one who's been causing all this trouble?"

"And what if I am?" Xing Jue shot back, refusing to be intimidated. "Since when is it a crime to defend yourself against unprovoked attacks?"

He still had no idea what he'd done wrong , but he was damned if he was going down without a fight.

"Insolent brat!" Elder Zhu roared, his patience snapping. "I'll teach you some manners!"

He didn't bother with words anymore. He raised his hand, and a wave of oppressive Martial Qi surged towards Xing Jue and his friends, a force that threatened to crush them like insects.

Xing Jue knew he could easily evade the attack, but his brothers weren't as fast. He had to protect them. He wouldn't abandon them, not now, not ever.

He planted his feet, drew in a deep breath, and focused all his Martial Qi into his right fist. The air around him crackled with energy. He threw his fist forward, meeting the elder's attack head-on.

The collision sent a shockwave rippling through the dining hall. Xing Jue grunted, his bones rattling from the impact. He'd managed to deflect the brunt of the attack, but the raw power behind it was staggering. A trickle of blood ran down his chin, a testament to the elder's strength.

He spat out a mouthful of blood, his gaze defiant.

"Is that all you've got, old man?" he taunted, wiping the blood from his chin.

Elder Zhu stared at him, momentarily taken aback. He hadn't expected the boy to withstand his attack, even partially.

"Impressive," he conceded, a hint of admiration in his voice. "You've got guts, kid. I'll give you that."

"Cut the crap," Xing Jue spat. "I'm not going anywhere with you. You want to arrest me? Bring it on."

"Fine," Elder Zhu said, his voice cold. "Have it your way."

He raised a hand, ready to unleash another, even more powerful attack, one that would teach this insolent brat a lesson he wouldn't soon forget.

But Xing Jue was ready for him. With a roar, he vanished in a whirlwind of motion, his body enveloped in a vortex of spinning air.

"Gale Steps!" Elder Zhu exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise.

He recognized the technique. It was a high-level movement skill unique to the Wind Guild. How could this boy possess such a skill?

But surprise didn't translate to inaction. He was a veteran fighter, and he reacted instinctively. He gathered his Martial Qi, focusing it in his palm, and spun, striking blindly into the heart of the whirlwind that was Xing Jue.

His palm connected with a sickening thud.

Xing Jue cried out, the air driven from his lungs as he was hurled backward like a stone from a catapult. He crashed to the ground, forty feet away, his vision gray, his body a mass of aching pain.

He coughed, blood staining his lips. He'd underestimated his opponent. How had the elder seen through his Gale Steps?

"You're not the only one who knows that little trick," Elder Zhu said, his voice devoid of emotion. He walked towards Xing Jue, stopping a few feet away. "So, what's it going to be? Are you coming quietly, or do I have to break every bone in your body?"

Xing Jue spat at the elder's feet, his gaze defiant. "Do your worst, old man."

A flicker of rage crossed Elder Zhu's face. "You're a dead man!"

He raised his hand, lethal intent radiating from his body.

Everyone in the dining hall held their breath, knowing that Xing Jue's recklessness had just sealed his fate.

There was a crash as Elder Zhu's palm slammed down… but to everyone's astonishment, Xing Jue wasn't there.

Before anyone could react, a voice, clear as a bell, rang through the hall.

"Touch him," the voice said, "and I'll kill you."