The leader's words echoed through the valley, carried with a weight that none of those present would dare to underestimate.

As if time had momentarily stopped for everyone, not a single disciple dared to breathe loudly.

The elders exchanged silent glances, some shocked, others thinking it was to be expected. Finally, after several decades, their leader had at last chosen a direct disciple.

A direct disciple of the leader of the Verdant Sword Sect.

Even the youngest there, who had not yet even truly entered the sect, understood what this meant.

To become the direct disciple of a sect leader was not only an honor but also the chance to leap over practically all layers of the hierarchy. To inherit techniques and resources that would not be easily distributed even to the elders.

Everyone was incredulous that the leader had decided so quickly. But there was no use complaining. They had all seen it with their own eyes. The buzzing of swords, the cutting pressure, and even the instant when Kyrian intercepted the leader's attack, an attack none of them could even begin to react to.

It was impossible to deny that he possessed the talent required for such a position.

Yanyu was among those who felt the impact most strongly within the crowd. Her heart was beating extremely fast while her eyes were entirely fixed on Kyrian.

Turbulent thoughts surged endlessly in her mind.

'This… is this another physique? No, is Kyrian truly someone with a special physique?'

'Blood, ice… and now the sword… Kyrian, if this is yet another physique, then you truly are a freak beyond logic.'

She clenched her fists, her mind wavering between shock and incredulity.

Despite everything, he still seemed the same, the same cold figure, but now, as sharp as a sword.

The little fox, Luz, remained close to Yanyu but did not dare to utter a single sound in that situation. Its gray eyes shone as they looked at Kyrian, reflecting some unspoken thought.

Kyrian, in turn, remained firm, standing before the leader.

His new eyes, with irises shaped like swords, reflected an inhuman calm. Instead of lowering his head immediately, he kept his gaze fixed on the leader.

On that man of ordinary appearance, with light-green hair, who was, without a shadow of a doubt, alongside Wei Feng, one of the two greatest figures of power he had ever encountered.

He felt the sincerity in the offer. It was not an order but an invitation. A recognition. And above all, the opportunity Kyrian needed.

He would have the best guide, protection, and resources. Everything he needed to establish himself and become a recognized force.

The pause lasted only three heartbeats, but for the silent audience watching, it seemed to last an eternity.

Then, Kyrian finally moved. He did not prostrate himself nor kneel. He merely bowed slightly, enough to demonstrate respect. His eyes stayed lifted for a brief moment before lowering.

"Yes, I accept. Kyrian pays respect to the master." Kyrian's voice echoed, clear and unshakable, finally breaking the silence.

A visible shock ran through the crowd of disciples when they finally realized what had just happened before their very eyes.

The murmurs inevitably followed, first muffled, until they rose like a swarm. Most in disbelief.

Envy surfaced, almost palpable in the air.

Many of the inner disciples who had dedicated years, some even decades, to catch the attention of an elder saw a complete stranger, who was not even a core disciple, be elevated to the most coveted position in the sect. In a single day.

The expression of some grew dark, while others did not care, knowing it would not change anything in their own lives.

The elders, in turn, exchanged glances heavy with meaning. Most seemed satisfied, like Mei Ran. They saw it as a good thing, finally, the sect had a terrifying talent to make use of their resources after countless years.

The leader completely ignored the rising uproar. A nearly imperceptible smile grew slightly at his lips. Just a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.

But to those who knew him, they understood he had found what he had been searching for for ages.

"Good!" His voice came calm, yet filled with authority, causing the whispers to silence once again.

He then turned to Mei Ran.

"Conclude the test and evaluation of the others."

Then he turned to Kyrian, his gaze fixed on the young man.

"Kyrian, come with me." He said, his tone sounding even a little informal, marking a new relationship.

Without waiting for a reply, the leader turned and began walking toward the higher peaks of the sect. His steps did not seem hurried, yet each movement carried him an impressive distance. A subtle demonstration of his technique.

Before following, Kyrian gave one last look behind him. His green eyes met Yanyu's for a fraction of a second.

He gave her a brief nod. Yanyu understood and nodded back, returning a faint smile.

And then he turned and followed his new master, who was already waiting for him on the great staircase.

At last, when the two figures vanished into the distance, disappearing from everyone's sight, the valley finally erupted into a chaos of voices.

The Leaf Sword Pavilion test had ended, but a true storm had just begun within the sect.

"Did you see that!? The sect leader really chose a direct disciple." A young inner disciple shouted.

"Obviously we saw, no one here is blind."

"Damn, this is extreme news. Quickly, out of the way, I have to tell the others." Another shouted, pushing those ahead of him and running toward the inner sect.

Another did the same but ran down toward the outer area.

In the end, the place once full became empty, leaving only the novices.

No, there was still one last inner disciple who stood gazing at the pavilion with an extremely grim expression.

"Brother Mo Tianhai's place was really stolen by an unknown… he won't be happy about this…"

After murmuring, he too disappeared with the others.

Meanwhile, Mei Ran exchanged a few words with the elders and then turned her attention to the new disciples, leading them away from the valley.

Leaving, at last, the Leaf Sword Pavilion completely empty. Only with cracks that would remain for a long time.

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