Pain coursed through Ishin’s body as he opened his eyes. The worst of it radiated from his forehead, with a close second pulsing from his ribs each time he drew a shallow breath. His mouth felt dry, his lips chapped and stiff. As he shifted his aching body, Ishin noticed a thin wool blanket draped over him and a soft mattress beneath his back. Blinking up at the ceiling, he recognized the room at once.

  The infirmary. I’m in the Martial Hall infirmary.

  I lost.

  All thoughts of pain vanished as the weight of that truth settled over him.

  I lost.

  For the past two years, he had consoled himself with the belief that even if he couldn’t cultivate, he was their equal—thanks to his skill and relentless training. But now, he knew that wasn’t true.

  Sure, he had injured Pan Fang—broken his nose, even. While that might have comforted a weaker man, Ishin knew better. Pan Fang had never truly been in danger of losing. At best, Ishin had annoyed him. And to think… he had felt confident during that duel.

  Was I just as arrogant as Pan Fang, but without anything to justify it? How na?ve.

  “You’re finally awake,” came Elder Fa’s voice from his left.

  Ishin turned his head, grimacing at the jolt of pain in his neck, and saw the Master of the Martial Hall seated on a wooden stool at the foot of his bed.

  “Elder,” Ishin said, trying to sit up. He winced as his torso protested, but he managed to rise into an upright position.

  “You woke sooner than we expected,” Elder Fa said, examining him with a critical eye.

  Ishin followed his gaze and finally took stock of himself. Bandages wrapped tightly around his torso, left shoulder, and forehead. His clothes were gone—replaced by a pair of plain brown linen pants.

  He looked around the infirmary. A dozen identical beds lined the walls, some occupied by unconscious disciples. Each had a side table beside it. Glass lanterns hung from the ceiling beams, casting steady light. The room had no windows—no distractions for the wounded.

  “Have I been unconscious long, Elder?”

  “A day and a half. It’s late afternoon. Your friends are still in their classes, but I expect they’ll stop by afterward.”

  Ishin appreciated the answer to his unspoken question. “Thank you, Elder.”

  Pain spiked through his forehead and he clutched at it, gasping.

  “A reinforced kick to the face hurts,” Elder Fa said dryly. “It’s a good thing Senior Disciple Pan Fang didn’t use a body enhancement technique, or your head would’ve been caved in.” He pulled a small clay bottle from his robes. “Drink this.”

  Ishin took it, unstoppered it, and downed the contents. The elixir was bitter—so bitter it burned his throat.

  “What is this?” he coughed.

  “Searing Salamander Root Elixir. Prepared by Elder Lee herself.”

  “Elder Lee?” Ishin blinked. Why was the tribe’s senior spirit doctor involved…? “Pardon, Elder, but I’m surprised to find you here. Isn’t this beneath you?”

  Elder Fa gave him a calm smile. “It is not beneath the Master of the Martial Hall to look after an injured member of the hall’s faculty.”

  Ishin looked away, embarrassed but grateful. “Thank you, Elder.”

  “As for Elder Lee,” the Elder continued, “you can thank your mother for that.”

  “My mother?”

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Yes. After your defeat, you were severely injured. Your forehead was nearly split open. Swelling covered half your face. Later, we discovered internal bleeding near your lungs.”

  Ishin winced at the memory—Pan Fang’s elbow strike.

  “I brought you to the infirmary, but your mother left immediately to fetch Elder Lee. Our own healers stabilized you, but your recovery would’ve taken months without Elder Lee’s intervention. Tell me—how do you feel now?”

  Ishin paused. The pain in his ribs and forehead had dulled to a manageable ache—no worse than a strong headache.

  The elixir?

  “The elixir,” Elder Fa confirmed. “Elder Lee said we had to wait until you were awake to administer it. It would accelerate the final stage of your recovery. Judging by your expression, she was right.”

  “I feel a lot better,” Ishin admitted, touching the bandage over his forehead. It didn’t hurt.

  “Drink this too,” Elder Fa said, offering him a waterskin from the nearby table. “It’s just water.”

  Grateful, Ishin took it and drank deeply. The cool liquid soothed his throat. He emptied nearly half the waterskin before handing it back.

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank Elder Lee. And your mother.”

  I will. Ishin had no knowledge of healing arts, but he could imagine how valuable that elixir had been.

  Mother must have used her influence… or called in a favor. There are plenty of elders eager to earn her favor.

  “I will, Elder.” He looked around again. “Has my mother come by at all?”

  Elder Fa hesitated. “Not since she brought Elder Lee. She remained until you were stabilized. When Elder Lee confirmed you’d survive and only needed rest, she returned to her duties. Your friends have stayed by your side in the evenings. I’ve been watching over you during the day.”

  Ishin didn’t miss the careful way Elder Fa avoided the topic of Akira’s absence. But he wasn’t surprised.

  She’s too important. There’s always another meeting, another warrior to train, another threat to prepare for. Even before the duel, they rarely spoke. He had seen more of Bin and Na in the past year than his own mother.

  “It’s alright, Elder. I’m not upset. I’m sure I’ll see her once I return home.” Eager to change the subject, he asked, “Has someone been able to cover my classes?”

  Elder Fa’s expression darkened. “About your classes, Assistant Instructor Ro Ishin… we need to talk.”

  A cold worry clawed at Ishin’s chest.

  “Please tell me, Elder.”

  “After your defeat, word spread quickly. Since it was an official duel, a record was inevitable. Senior Disciple Pan Fang rose six ranks among the senior disciples. I assumed that would be the end of it, since you don’t have a formal ranking in the hall.”

  Ishin frowned. “Elder, how did he gain ranking by defeating me, if I don’t hold one?”

  “You’re still an instructor—even as an assistant. The rules of the Martial Hall are extensive. They include rewards for defeating an instructor in combat.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  Did Pan Fang know? Did he plan this? Ishin’s gut twisted. Was it all a trick? Did he insult my mother and Elder Fa just to provoke me into a duel?

  “That’s not the issue,” Elder Fa said, drawing him back. “Elder Jun Long visited the hall this morning. He expressed dissatisfaction with employing an instructor who couldn’t defeat a second-layer senior disciple. He argued that if any senior disciple can beat an instructor, that instructor doesn’t deserve the title.”

  Ishin went still. “Elder Jun Long… he’s Jun Wu’s grandfather, isn’t he?”

  “That’s correct.”

  It all makes sense now.

  “He set this up,” Ishin whispered.

  Elder Fa tilted his head. “He?”

  “Jun Wu. Pan Fang. All of them.” Ishin’s voice rose. His fists clenched around the blanket. “They came to the Sapphire Canopy two days ago and started insulting me—you—my mother—all to lure me into that duel. Jun Wu has hated me ever since I embarrassed him eight years ago. This was his revenge!”

  “Control yourself, Assistant Instructor,” Elder Fa warned.

  “How can I?” Ishin said, his voice cracking. “I fell for their ploy, and now my position is gone! I was a fool, and now I’m paying the price!”

  The shout echoed through the infirmary. Ishin lowered his head, ashamed.

  “I’m sorry, Elder. I didn’t mean to shout. I’ll accept any punishment.”

  Elder Fa sighed. “There’s that temper, Ro Ishin. You must control it—before your enemies use it against you.”

  Around the room, other wounded disciples stirred, awakened by the commotion. Elder Fa gave them a brief glance before returning to Ishin.

  “Assistant Instructor Ro Ishin, Elder Jun Long has lodged an official concern regarding the merit of your appointment. Given your recent defeat, I’ve decided to suspend your services until further notice.”

  Elder Fa rose from the stool.

  “You will retain your title, but you are barred from entering the Martial Hall, teaching classes, or accessing hall resources. You may rest here tonight, but I expect you to leave by the time I arrive tomorrow morning. Failure to do so will bring consequences. Do you understand?”

  Ishin bowed his head.

  “Yes, Elder.”