Tarian Lysand felt… uneasy. Not just the usual kind of imperial caution, but a gnawing, unusual nervousness he couldn’t shake.The battle between Kaelen Viremont and Lorian Zethar earlier still played over and over in his mind like a relentless storm. The sheer intensity, the speed, the raw, terrifying strength—it had been more than impressive. It had been frightening.Kaelen had fought like a force of nature, a young man capable of tearing the heavens apart. Not just a cultivator, no. A prodigy who had descended into the world, and one powerful enough to unsettle even an emperor. That was exactly why Tarian Lysand felt off balance.He had no clue why Kaelen had asked to see him—alone.The battlefield had quieted. Most of the major figures had left, their presence no longer needed. Only a few elders from the Shadowfang Sect lingered in the distance, observing with cautious eyes.Kaelen stood not far away. Injured, yes, but still emanating a pressure that made anyone nearby instinctive