The discussion hall of the lower-realm branch sect was unusually tense.
Elders sat in their respective seats, sleeves folded, expressions ranging from displeasure to thinly veiled calculation. At the center of the hall floated a translucent projection—an echo of recent events in the outer training grounds. Though the image was blurred and incomplete, the chaotic elemental fluctuations were unmistakable.
"This is no ordinary anomaly," an elder with sharp brows said coldly. "Five elemental resonances appearing in harmony—such a thing has never existed in our sect records."
Another elder snorted. "Exactly why he must be expelled. A flawed physique that attracts attention will only bring disaster."
Murmurs of agreement spread.
"Xu Ming is merely an outer disciple," a third elder added. "Keeping him offers no benefit, only risk. The Iron River faction has already lodged a formal complaint."
Just as the discussion threatened to tilt fully toward expulsion, the air in the hall shifted.
A communication formation ignited.
The formation was not of the lower realm.
Its structure was deeper, purer—ancient lines of authority layered upon one another. The moment it activated, every elder stiffened.
A calm, restrained voice echoed through the hall.
"Xu Ming is under my protection."
Silence fell like a blade.
Several elders instinctively rose to their feet.
The projection resolved into a simple seal—white, unadorned, yet carrying an oppressive weight that made even seasoned cultivators feel pressure on their souls.
Li Chen.
No elaboration followed. No threats. No justification.
Just that single sentence.
An elder swallowed hard. "C-Core Disciple Li Chen…?"
The voice returned, unchanged.
"Any disciplinary action taken against him will be considered interference with my authority.
This matter is closed."
The formation dimmed.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then, slowly, chairs creaked as elders sat back down.
"…So that's how it is," one muttered.
Another elder exhaled deeply. "If it is Li Chen… then this cannot be pursued further."
"No," a third agreed reluctantly. "Not only is he a core disciple—he is the small patriarch from the higher realm. We were informed too late."
The elder who had first pushed for expulsion clenched his jaw but said nothing more.
The verdict was clear.
Xu Ming would remain.
And more importantly—he would not be touched.
Two days later, a new announcement spread through the sect like wildfire.
Core Disciple Li Chen would personally instruct outer sect disciples every morning.
Duration: two months.
The sect was stunned.
Core disciples did not teach outer disciples. Ever.
This was not charity—it was contribution.
From the first morning, the outer training grounds were packed.
Li Chen arrived exactly at dawn.
No fanfare. No escort. No display of aura.
He stood at the center of the grounds, hands behind his back, eyes calm and unreadable. When the murmuring disciples noticed him, silence fell instinctively.
"You are here to survive longer," Li Chen said flatly. "If you want praise, leave."
No one moved.
"Good."
He began with fundamentals.
Not techniques. Not secret arts.
Posture. Breathing. Foot placement. Timing.
"Your stances waste strength."
"Your breathing leaks qi."
"You circulate too fast because you are afraid of stagnation."
Each correction was precise. Ruthless. Undeniably effective.
At first, some disciples were disappointed. They had expected secret manuals, instant breakthroughs. But by the third morning, something changed.
Their cultivation stabilized.
Their injuries healed faster.
Their qi became smoother.
By the seventh day, even inner disciples began observing from afar.
Li Chen never raised his voice. Never demonstrated power.
He simply pointed.
"Again."
"Wrong."
"Better."
Occasionally, he would flick a pebble—not at a disciple, but beside them. The air pressure alone corrected their movement.
Xu Ming stood among the outer disciples, silent and focused.
Li Chen never acknowledged him directly.
But Xu Ming understood.
This was protection.
By teaching openly, Li Chen made a statement:
Xu Ming was not hidden. He was normalized.
If everyone improved, Xu Ming's growth would draw less suspicion.
Over the course of two months, the sect changed.
Outer disciples who had been stagnant broke through.
Training injuries dropped sharply.
Sect morale improved.
Even the elders could not deny the results.
"This method…" one elder admitted quietly, "is frighteningly efficient."
Li Chen never stayed longer than necessary. Once the sun fully rose, he left. Every time.
No rewards requested.
No merits claimed.
At the end of the two months, he simply stopped coming.
No announcement. No explanation.
Yet the impact remained.
Xu Ming returned to his residence that evening, heart steady, cultivation stable, mind clear.
For the first time since entering the sect, the pressure eased—not because the world had become kinder, but because Li Chen had reshaped the environment itself.
Far above, within his secluded quarters, Li Chen resumed cultivation.
Protection doesn't always require a blade, he thought calmly.
Sometimes, it requires balance.
And for now—
Balance had been achieved.