The Observer remained.
He did not interfere.
He watched joint training sessions, listened to elders debate strategies, and examined battlefield remnants with clinical interest. He asked polite questions—never pressing, never revealing his thoughts.
He never spoke of Elder Qin.
He never mentioned the beast tides.
He never asked about supreme talents or physiques.
But he noticed everything.
Li Chen stayed deliberately unremarkable.
He positioned himself behind other core disciples, allowed Mo Yun and Shen Yue to take the lead, and limited his actions to logistical assistance and minor formation adjustments.
Still, once—just once—Li Chen felt the Observer's gaze brush past him.
Not linger.
Not probe.
Just… register.
Like marking a stone along a road.
That night, Li Chen sealed another layer over his dantian and whispered to himself:
If you see me clearly, you'll never look away.
So he blurred himself.