In the heart of the Spiritual Garden, a sacred space crucial to the Azure Sky Sect’s resources, Forly moved with quiet precision. Kneeling in front of one of the lush, five-hundred-square-meter plots, his hands glided expertly over the leaves and stems, his eyes sharp with focus. Every movement echoed the lessons of his former mentor, Devor—teachings so ingrained in him that it felt as if Devor’s voice still whispered through the rustling plants.

  The garden had suffered through calamity, but now it thrived with renewed life. Thanks to the Azure Sky Sect’s wealth and its skilled cultivators, the once-damaged plants had been carefully restored. They swayed gently in the breeze, radiating a calming aura of spiritual energy that seemed to breathe life back into the surroundings.

  Forly crouched beside a particularly delicate plant, its aura flickering faintly. His face softened with a mix of tenderness and resolve as he examined its fragile stem. After a careful inspection, he reached into the cloth pouch tied to his waist and sprinkled a pinch of blue powder onto the soil beneath it. The change was almost instant—an invigorating burst of Qi surged through the plant, its aura stabilizing and glowing faintly.

  "That should do it," Forly murmured, brushing the excess powder from his hands. He stood up and surveyed the garden, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. The field was thriving again, a testament to the hard work that had gone into its recovery.

  Turning toward the exit, Forly adjusted the hem of his simple white robe. "The sect’s monthly stipend and rations should be arriving today," he reminded himself, making his way toward the Resource Pavilion.

  The path from the garden wound through the lively outer sections of the sect. Forly passed groups of Outer Disciples in their distinctive robes, their laughter and chatter filling the air. He stole a glance at them, his heart stirring with both admiration and longing.

  "Outer Disciples..." Forly thought, a heavy sigh escaping him. "I'm still too far behind to ever reach their level."

  As a Nameless Disciple, Forly knew exactly where he stood in the sect’s hierarchy. His talent was limited, his cultivation stagnant. Unlike Devor, who had defied all odds to rise above his beginnings, Forly remained stuck in mediocrity.

  The thought of Devor brought another sigh to his lips. Since Devor’s punishment, the atmosphere in the Spiritual Garden had shifted. What was once a place of vibrant camaraderie had turned cold and quiet. The apprentices who had once shared knowledge and laughter under Devor’s leadership now worked in isolated silence, the unity that had once defined them all but gone.

  Before Devor, Forly had been assigned to Liara’s team. She was competent enough, but her approach felt mechanical—assigning tasks and teaching only the bare essentials of Spiritual Farming. There was no depth to her guidance, no real understanding of the delicate relationship between each plant and the energy surrounding them. Devor, however, had taught with passion, explaining every plant's unique traits as though they were old friends.

  Forly shook his head, pushing the memories aside as he neared the Resource Pavilion. The grand, intricately designed building was alive with activity. Disciples stood in orderly lines, each waiting to collect their monthly rations and stipends.

  Forly joined the line and waited quietly, his mind drifting again. In the past, he had often collected Devor’s share of the rations along with his own, making sure his mentor had what he needed, even in his absence. But now, with Devor’s punishment, there was only his own portion to carry back.

  When his turn came, he took the small pouch handed to him by the pavilion attendant. It felt heavier than usual in his hand, even though it hadn’t changed in weight.

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  Stepping outside, Forly gazed toward the horizon. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the sect grounds. "Will I ever leave a mark like Devor?" he wondered quietly, the question settling in his chest like an unanswered prayer.

  As he walked down the path, his thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a familiar figure in the distance. A flash of dark hair, a confident stride—he recognized her instantly.

  "Huh? Liyu?" he called out, his voice uncertain.

  Liyu paused, turning toward Forly as her name echoed through the bustling sect. For a brief moment, her expression faltered, but she quickly masked her unease with a warm smile. "Forly? It’s been a while. How have you been?"

  "I’m doing well!" Forly replied, his face lighting up as he stepped closer. "I’ve been assigned my own spiritual field in the garden. But I looked for you there recently and couldn’t find you."

  Liyu hesitated, briefly glancing away before responding, her tone cautious. "I... I'm not working there anymore. I’ve started helping out in the Alchemy Hall, assisting one of the Outer Disciples."

  "The Alchemy Hall? That's amazing!" Forly exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Spiritual Farming and Alchemy share a lot of similar principles. I bet you're doing great there!"

  His gaze shifted to the herbal emblem embroidered on her robe, the symbol marking her new role. "Wait... have you become a Nameless Disciple?"

  Liyu, who had once been an Apprentice under Devor’s guidance, nodded quietly. "I guess I've been lucky," she said, her smile soft, but distant.

  As they walked side by side, Forly eagerly reminisced about their days in the Spiritual Garden under Devor. He spoke animatedly about the lessons they had learned and the camaraderie they’d shared, but Liyu’s responses remained brief, her enthusiasm noticeably absent. Her gaze often drifted, unfocused, toward the horizon.

  "I've reached Stage-6 Qi Refining," Liyu said after a moment, a hint of pride in her voice. "That's how I earned my promotion to Nameless Disciple."

  Forly's face brightened with genuine happiness. "That's incredible! Definitely worth celebrating! You’ve worked so hard for that."

  Liyu's fingers brushed the small pendant hanging from her neck, her hand resting lightly on it. The pendant shimmered faintly in the sunlight. "Honestly, I wouldn’t have made such quick progress without this," she said, her voice tinged with excitement. "It’s the Azure Spirit Pendant. It helps stabilize energy and boosts absorption during cultivation."

  Forly eyed the pendant with growing curiosity. "The Azure Spirit Pendant? That's a remarkable artifact. It must've cost a fortune."

  Liyu’s lips curled into a faint, proud smile. "My family sent it to me. They wanted to support my progress here in the sect."

  Forly nodded, but a wave of unease settled in his chest. The Azure Spirit Pendant was well-known for its effectiveness, but its cost was far beyond what most disciples could afford—even with family support.

  After a few more minutes of polite conversation, they reached a crossroads. Liyu smiled and waved before walking off, her figure blending into the crowd of disciples moving across the sect grounds.

  Forly stood still, watching her fade into the distance. There was something about their conversation that didn’t sit right with him—a subtle, nagging feeling he couldn’t shake.

  His gaze then landed on the sword hanging at Liyu’s waist. It was sleek and elegant, but what caught his attention was the hilt, etched with intricate patterns that immediately sent a jolt of recognition through him.

  "A Mystic Armament sword?" he murmured, frowning.

  Mystic Armament was a well-known forge, famous for crafting weapons of exceptional durability. While their swords weren’t the most powerful, their craftsmanship was second to none. However, their steep prices made them prized possessions for the elite. For a Nameless Disciple—or even an Outer Disciple—the cost of such a weapon was out of reach.

  Forly’s mind raced as he pieced together the details. A pendant from her family, a Mystic Armament sword, and a rapid rise in cultivation… Everything seemed to align a little too perfectly, almost as if there were unseen forces pushing Liyu’s progress.

  The faint smile she had worn throughout their conversation replayed in his mind. Now, it seemed less sincere, as though there was something she was hiding beneath the surface.

  Unease gnawed at Forly. He focused on the intricate pattern of the sword’s hilt, committing it to memory.

  "I need to confirm this," he whispered to himself, his voice steady as determination began to replace the doubt. If that sword really came from Mystic Armament, there was more to Liyu’s story than she was letting on.

  As the sun sank lower in the sky, Forly turned and quickened his pace. There had to be an answer somewhere—and he was going to find it.