Xuanyan moved toward the Outer Sect Tournament grounds at an unhurried pace, his steps measured and even, each one placed with quiet deliberation. There was no excitement in his eyes, no trace of the feverish anticipation that infected most of the sect that morning.
While countless disciples hurried along the stone paths, voices raised and spirits high as they imagined themselves standing beneath Hei Yuling's gaze, Xuanyan treated the journey differently.
He neither sped up nor slowed down, allowing the flow of the crowd to part around him naturally. His attention drifted instead to terrain, distance, and the subtle shifts in atmosphere ahead—entrances, sightlines, places where attention would gather and places where it would thin.
By the time the tournament grounds came into view, he had already adjusted his breathing and pace, his focus settled not on what was about to begin, but on where he needed to be when it did.
