Moenkamonacalai icoali agoishain.
"Was that—" A woman said. Her cold eyes shined with delight as she stared down through the transparent floor beneath her feet and into a large arena.
"Sword intent!" the man beside her exclaimed. "He's under twenty, and he learned sword intent!"
The outer court sect masters watched in disbelief as the battle below came to an end.
"That Ren Lin isn't bad." An older man said. "He can use his ancestral rage and cultivate. It's incredibly rare for a halfling to be able to use both."
"It's a shame he was forced to use a sword against someone with sword intent." The cold eyed woman sighed.
"Grand Elder." The other woman, the more righteous-looking one, said as she turned to the long silver-bearded man. "That kid. He's joining the wrong sect, isn't he?"