The emergency council was not held in the grand pavilion.
That was the first sign of fear.
Instead, the elders gathered in the Records Hall, a squat structure that
most inner disciples had never entered. Its doors were reinforced with
spiritual seals that hummed faintly in agitation as officials rushed in
and out, arms burdened with scroll cases and bound ledgers.
Mu-Hyuk watched from a shadowed terrace across the courtyard, Yoo
Seol-Ah beside him, her breath shallow as the tension below thickened.
"They're not debating cultivation," she whispered. "They're arguing over
paperwork."
"They've lost their narrative," Mu-Hyuk replied. "Once that happens,
authority becomes arithmetic."
[Central Record Instability: 51%] [Probability of Self-Directed Purge:
Escalating]
Inside the hall, voices rose and clashed.
"I don't care what the infirmary says," Elder Baek snapped. "My roster
is correct. Your clerks made the mistake."
"My clerks?" another elder retorted. "You signed off on these transfers
yourself!"
Mu-Hyuk leaned forward slightly, absorbing every syllable.
[Conflict Pattern Recognition: Senior Authority Fracture – Confirmed]
As dusk fell, the Records Hall doors burst open and a team of inner
disciples fanned out, scrolls clutched tightly. Orders were being
distributed in fragments — partial lists, contradictory arrest warrants,
names that overlapped in impossible ways.
Mu-Hyuk followed one such group as they descended into the outer courts.
Their target was a training yard where dozens of disciples were
practicing evening drills, unaware that their existence had become a
clerical anomaly.
"By order of the council, all disciples listed here will submit to
immediate verification," the lead disciple barked.
The list he held trembled in his grip.
[Document Integrity: 23%] [Error Cascade Detected]
Names were called. Some answered twice. Some answered who were not
present. Some stood silent because their names were no longer anywhere.
Confusion turned to panic.
Night descended and cells once used for criminals filled with bewildered
trainees. Servants whispered of shadow purges and ghost disciples who
existed only on scrolls.
Mu-Hyuk returned to the watchtower long after midnight, laying out a new
set of manipulated ledgers on the stone floor.
[System Forecast: Authority Collapse Threshold – Approaching]
The next morning the Azure Sun Sect woke to silence. Training fields lay
empty, notices nailed to gates suspending drills pending administrative
clarification.
Mu-Hyuk stood beneath a pine tree overlooking the main thoroughfare,
watching disciples move as though wading through deep water.
"They're afraid of being forgotten," Yoo Seol-Ah said.
Mu-Hyuk nodded. "Because once your name disappears, so does your
protection."
A distant shout echoed from the inner courts, followed by the clang of
sealing arrays activating around the Records Hall.
[Critical Event Detected: Record Quarantine]
Mu-Hyuk exhaled slowly.
"They think sealing the archives will reset reality," he said. "But once
they stop trusting their own names, the sect will run out of people it
can recognize."