Elder Qin turned to his disciple, his eyes blazing. "You think you can fool me, Wangchen? You think I do not see the cracks in your Dao heart?"
Xie Wangchen didn't blink. He didn't bow.
The obedient, respectful disciple vanished entirely. Wangchen's dark eyes turned to absolute, abyssal voids.
The air around him cracked, the remaining snow in the courtyard sublimating instantly into freezing vapor under the sheer, terrifying weight of his killing intent.
"I am participating in your tournament, Master," Wangchen whispered, his voice a lethal, vibrating threat that made even the Golden Core elder take a subconscious half-step back. "I am securing the glory for your peak. But do not push me."
Wangchen turned his back on his Master, walking toward the inner chambers of the palace.
