Two days had passed since the Solar Clan's failed assault, and the Flare Palace had begun to breathe again.
The barrier formations had been reinforced, the rubble cleared, and the scent of scorched stone replaced by incense and fresh air. High officials resumed their duties, disciples returned to their training grounds, and the rhythm of daily life slowly reasserted itself. The palace, once a battlefield, now pulsed with quiet resilience.
All those who had evacuated during the attack had returned. The halls were filled again with footsteps, laughter, and the hum of cultivation. The Flare Family's allies arrived in waves, each one seeking assurance that the clan was intact. Jana, ever poised, received them with grace—her presence a symbol of strength and continuity. She offered tea, updates, and reassurance, even as her heart remained tethered to thoughts of her daughter and grandchildren.
Some of Simon's sons came by as well, convening in the council hall for a private meeting. The topic was simple but heavy: how to protect what they treasured most. They all knew the truth—the enemies they faced were not ones they could defeat through brute force alone. The Solar Clan's reach was vast, its ambition ruthless. But none of them were willing to stand idly by while their family was in danger.
"If we must die," one of Simon's sons, Simian, said, "then let it be with swords drawn."
The others nodded. There was no bravado in their voices—only resolve.
Meanwhile, Jalen was in the garden courtyard with his younger brothers. Jared, as usual, was causing chaos—leaping across formation stones, chasing spirit birds, and nearly knocking over a qi-infused fountain. Jalen sighed and gently tapped his forehead, sending a pulse of sleep qi through his meridians. Jared slumped into his arms, snoring softly.
Jamir and Jamar, the twins, had grown remarkably in his absence. Both had reached Peak Ruby Realm before one year old. Compared to Jared, their older brother, this wasn't impressive—but in the wider world, it was unheard of. Spirit roots typically didn't awaken until a child turned eight. Their progress was a testament to their bloodline—and perhaps, something more.
Nate was with them too, standing quietly beside Jalen. The boy's eyes gleamed with joy and reverence. These past few months without his master had been difficult, but thanks to Jalen's parents and the friend he'd made at the Flare Palace, it had been tolerable.
"I missed you, Master," Nate said.
"You've grown," Jalen replied, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Nate had reached Early Gold Realm cultivation—a feat that made him the number one disciple amongst disciples his age in the Flare Family. Even those several years older couldn't match his progress. Jalen sensed the Wind Orb within Nate had further cemented itself into the boy's body. That, more than anything, explained his rapid growth. The orb had chosen him—and it was nurturing him from within.
Jalen took Nate to the battlegrounds, a wide arena surrounded by formation pillars and elemental nodes. They sparred—not as master and disciple, but as cultivator and challenger. Nate was no match for Jalen, despite Jalen suppressing his cultivation to Nate's level, but that wasn't the point. The fight was a test. Had Nate slacked off? Had he grown complacent?
The answer was clear. He hadn't.
Jalen pushed him, forcing him to sharpen his Spirit Wind Art techniques. Each clash of qi was precise, each movement deliberate. Nate adapted quickly, his footwork fluid, his strikes clean. Jalen nodded in approval.
As they sparred, a group of disciples entered the arena. Most had never seen Jalen in person, but they recognized him instantly. The way Nate bowed to him, the aura he carried, the quiet authority in his stance—it was unmistakable.
Whispers spread through the crowd.
"That's him…"
"Jalen Hewitt…"
"The one who wiped out the Erupt Family and the Shadow Sect…"
"The prodigy who defeated the former rulers, the Royal Ember Pearl Family…"
Some of the disciples were Jalen's age. Others were ten, even twenty years older. But all of them showed respect. They had heard the tales, memorized the feats, and now they saw the legend in flesh.
Then, a young man barged in—loud, unbothered, and utterly unaware of the reverence in the air.
"Nate!" he called, rushing forward. "Let's go! You promised we'd hunt spirit beasts in Ember Veil Forest!"
It was Steve—Nate's closest friend at the palace. Unlike the others, Steve didn't treat Nate like a prodigy or a disciple of a mythic figure. He treated him like a kid. Like a friend. And for that, Nate cherished him.
Steve grabbed Nate's hand, pulling him toward the exit. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"Is he insane?"
"Does he even know who that is?"
"Does he have a death wish?"
Steve paused, noticing Nate's hesitation. "Come on, man. What are you waiting for? You can finish your battle with the new guy some other time."
Then he turned to Jalen. "I hope you don't mind."
"You may go, Nate," Jalen said calmly.
"Yes, Master," Nate replied.
Steve blinked. "Wait… did you just call the new guy 'Master'?"
Nate scratched his head awkwardly. "Steve, this is my master. Jalen."
Steve's eyes widened. "As in… the Master Jalen?"
Nate nodded. "Yup."
Steve pinched his own arm, then whispered angrily, "Why didn't you tell me?"
He burst into laughter, then bowed deeply before Jalen. "Master Jalen, forgive this young fool. I have eyes, but I failed to notice the sky."
Jalen chuckled. "I see why you consider him a friend, Nate."
"Yeah, Master. He's silly," Nate said.
"Hey! Don't say that in front of Master Jalen!" Steve scolded.
Jalen tilted his head. "I see you practice fire cultivation arts."
"Yes, Master Jalen," Steve replied quickly.
Jalen extended his spirit sense, scanning Steve's meridians and elemental flow. Then, with a subtle gesture, he imparted a thread of knowledge—refinements to his fire technique, adjustments to his breathing rhythm, and a new formation pattern to stabilize his qi.
Steve's eyes lit up. "Thank you, Master Jalen!"
The crowd watched in awe. Many were jealous, wishing Jalen would aid them too. But none dared approach. Offending him could mean exile from the strongest royal clan on the Rouna Continent. And many had worked tirelessly to earn their place here—especially those without the Flare name or ties to the surviving top sects of Emberfall.
Eventually, Jalen left the arena. He spent the next few hours strengthening the palace's outer formations, which he began yesterday, weaving Sage Realm defenses into the territory's perimeter. The air shimmered with protective qi, and the land itself seemed to breathe easier.
Then, with the palace secure and no further attacks from the Solar Clan, Jalen departed.
It was time.
He would retrieve Rana and the twins.
They had waited long enough. He had waited long enough.