When Lin Tian stepped out of the arena grounds, a pair of outer disciples slowed near the path.
"You saw that match, right, and you're still pretending he got lucky?"
"I watched the whole thing, and luck doesn't hold that steady under pressure, and you know it."
"He didn't even look tired when it ended."
"He didn't look proud either, and that's the strange part."
Lin Tian kept walking, hands behind his back, face calm, and their voices faded behind him.
The corridor outside the outer quarters felt empty.
Two disciples stood near a pillar, talking low.
"They moved him to rank twenty-seven, and that's higher than anyone expected."
"Still outer access though, and that means they're testing him."
"They're watching everyone at that rank."
Lin Tian reached his door.
He stopped.
The formation line above the frame shone a faint pale blue.
Stronger than before.
He lifted a hand and pressed his palm lightly to the wood.
Cold touched his skin.
