Elder Fang's eyes burned with open disdain as he looked Cain up and down, as though measuring him against an invisible scale and finding him painfully lacking.
"Average," he said at last, the word rolling off his tongue with cold contempt. "That is what you are. An average talent."
His voice was not loud, yet it carried to every corner of the courtyard.
"You stand in the fifth stage of the Blood Infusion Realm," he continued, stepping closer, his boots scraping lightly against the cracked stone. "Fifth stage. Do you even understand how insignificant that is within this family?"
Cain remained silent.
Elder Fang circled him again, slower this time, as if lecturing a foolish child.
"There are children within the Moonshade family who reach the fifth stage before they are fully grown. There are outer branch disciples who surpass that level before they are granted a formal name."
His tone sharpened.
