To give herself an advantage in finding a group, Niva showed up to Physical Cultivation early.

Immediately after entering the open field, she stopped in her tracks; the air dripped with so much tension that Niva spontaneously licked her lips. What had previously been an area for merry chatting between disciples had turned into a disguised battlefield, where an ambush potentially lay in wait under every unturned stone.

Looking out over the clearing, in the middle toward her right, she saw a group of around fifty disciples, some of whom she identified as border city folk. In the center stood, fittingly, the Central Territories group, and on the left were the nomads with about half the size of the first group. The divide was clear, and even more than that, it was dangerous.

Glares that conveyed a sense of dread and warning combined with the multitude of swear words that completed the journey to the other side of the field made sure that everyone knew what would happen after the violence-free months passed. She wasn't even sure they would make the three months if the Central Territories group didn't act as a buffer.

Now that she saw the split, she needed to decide.

Siding with the border cities would incentivize Tia to slit her throat at night, while siding with the nomads would cause her to get jumped by her people. In addition, the Central Territories group was a lost cause since they rejected you based on your origin.

So, she needed to search for some outliers. There must be others like her that didn’t adhere to these three factions, right?

There were some, she spotted in relief, that stuck around the edge of the field. However, they were mostly small groups of two to four people that wouldn’t be of much help to her if the others decided they had had enough of her. Still, they were her best option.

The training field was covered in sand, but it felt like she was walking on glass with heels on, for Niva's steps gained the attention of everyone in her surrounding. So much so that she didn't want to place another foot forward.

It will work in my favor, my ass, Niva thought as Yuta's revelation came back to her. Her inability to remain inconspicuous resulted in many disciples shooting her looks, some of whom didn't even bother to avert their gaze when she turned their way. They watched her every move, and her palms started to sweat while her stomach started to imitate a whirlpool.

Their stares incentivized her to quicken her pace, and she quickly closed in on the group of three people. After one of their members saw her approach, they alerted another that had his back to Niva. She saw confusion pass over his face, followed by understanding and resolution before he got up and signaled his group to move away.

She grimaced. If that was the first response, then her situation was worse than she expected. Not letting it get to her, though, she made her way over to her second target.

This time, they didn't run away, allowing her to approach them. As she got nearer, a short boy with the beginnings of a beard walked out who gave her a half-bow that made his red hair fall in front of his face.

“Good morning,” Niva said, returning the representative's bow. “I’ll be blunt. My usual sparring partner cannot make it, so I was greatly hoping I could train with you.”

“Cannot make it, she says. Good one,” Niva heard someone scoff from behind the boy.

“I am aware of your situation, Lady Niva,” he said, crossing his arms and looking behind her. ”But I’m afraid I will have to decline you.”

There was no need to turn around since she felt the burning sensation on her back caused by the other disciples. Still, his inference caused her heart to sink in her chest, but not before she tried to sway him. "Your group is five-man strong, and with me, that would make six. Is there really a need to fear some imaginary retaliation? My name is known for a reason; I can assure you that, should it be required, I will be of assistance to you." In a vacuum, her words sounded confident, but considering that her voice sounded pleading, that confidence vanished like morning dew when Solune started her ascent into the sky.

Narrowing his eyes, the short boy uncrossed his arms, and after a few seconds of not saying anything, he turned toward his group and said, “What do you think?”

"Why not have a vote?" asked a girl who looked like the female version of the boy.

“No,” said one voice, followed by another no from the person who scoffed at her in the beginning.

Niva drew some blood as she bit her lower lip, only stopping when she heard the word yes make it to her ears.

Staring into the red-haired girl's eyes, Niva wanted to charge the woman to hug her, but she contained herself. The required willpower increased twofold when another yes made it through, leaving only the boy in front of her.

Niva stared at him with rosy eyes.

After glancing at his presumed sister, the boy sank into deep thought before placing his hand on Niva’s shoulder, causing her heart rate to speed up.

“Sorry,” he said, right before Niva thanked him, saving her from embarrassment.

Her rising, positive emotions quickly plummeted downward, and she sagged slightly under the boy’s arm. Niva gave his sister one last look, but the girl gave her a sad smile as she shook her head.

“No…no, I understand. Thank you for your time.”

This was bad, Niva thought as she left the group behind her. Originally, she didn't think forming connections was that important since she didn't have any enemies in the sect, but the recent developments changed things. Even though she didn't adhere to any party, the other disciples would assume she was allied with Tia. Meaning that, no matter what she did now, they would target her soon enough.

Seeing sandals in the corner of her vision stopped her inner dialogue. She looked upwards and came face to face with the blue-haired girl from her Essence Theory class that wore the same sly smile as she did back then.

“Can I help you?” Niva asked in a manner that conveyed her annoyance at the girl’s presence. As an afterthought, she noticed a few of the nearby disciples stepping further away from them.

"No need to be so cut-throat; I'm only here to talk."

Looking past the girl, Niva saw the two other girls that whispered about her as well. Only, they stood some distance away.

Was she threatening her?

“I don’t enjoy speaking to people that talk behind my back,” Niva said, her shoulders opening up and raising her chin.

“Nonsense!” the girl said as she stepped toward Niva. “Wasn’t I looking straight at you when I said what I said?”

Keeping her eyes locked on the approaching disciple, Niva said, “I suppose that’s true. So, what do you want?”

"I come with an offer you cannot refuse." The girl's mouth curved upwards, revealing teeth as white as her skin, and Niva unwillingly admitted that the girl was beautiful. Her body swayed with elegance as she walked, her long hair swinging in a rhythmic motion akin to that of a metronome, emphasizing her shapely physique. "How about you join me for the rest of the PC classes, or better yet, join my group?” She stopped right in front of Niva’s face, and for the first time in forever, Niva didn’t have to look down to meet the eyes of a girl.

"No, thank you."

Beyond her instincts warning her against whatever the girl was planning, the way the female disciple rubbed off on her disgusted her. Still, she kept a calm posture, keenly aware of the two groupies in the vicinity and that Elder Kiri was not here yet.

“I thought you’d say that.” Disregarding Niva’s personal space further, the girl reached over, Niva following her movement, and twirled one of Niva’s loose curls in her finger. “I love your hair.”

“Thanks, but–“

“Although you’re slightly on the slimmer side, that too is part of your charm”–She circled behind Niva, placing her head on Niva’s shoulder, and sniffed–“Sour yet enticing.”

For the fifth time in two seconds, Niva resisted the urge to floor the girl.

“I like you. You’re talented and charming,” the girl whispered in her ear, her voice carrying the allure of an oasis in a desert. “However, you see, I have this insidious habit. One I’ve tried to beat for many, many years. One that I suspect you won’t enjoy as much as I will.”

“I don’t remember ever offending you,” Niva said.

“You did, though.”

Niva’s mouth twitched as she raised her eyebrows at the girl.

“Allow me to explain it so that your lovely pea-sized brain can understand. Imagine something you worship; A cultivator, an idol, or a god, whatever. Let’s say an idol,” the girl said as her hands traced Niva’s curves. “You respect this idol very much, so you store it in a chamber which you keep as clean as you can, every day of every month of every year. Your whole life.

"But then, one day, through some unknown means, a pig enters the chamber. You know how they are: stupid and always rolling around in the mud. As such, to no one's surprise, it leaves the chamber floor dirty, and worse, it smears its filth all over the walls.”

The girl’s hands moved towards Niva’s navel, thereby holding Niva in an embrace. Head still resting on Niva’s shoulder, her blue eyes locked onto Niva’s green ones. “Tell me, despite it being a pig that doesn’t know any better, wouldn’t you get mad? Wouldn’t you get offended?”

“That’s your crime: you’re an eyesore that should stop muddying my chamber.”

“You came all the way here to tell me that?”

“Correct. I enjoy being petty if you didn’t notice already.”

“What was your name, again?” Niva asked.

“Faye, but what good will knowing my name do?” Faye said, giggling in a soft, feminine manner.

“It’s easier when your enemies have a face and a name. Regardless, I think it’s best if you let me go now, Faye,” Niva said. She held one of the girl’s arms in both hands and had her feet in place to throw Faye over her shoulder and into the ground. ”The whole psycho girlfriend shtick isn’t really my thing.”

“Disappointing,” Faye said, releasing her. Holding her hands behind her back, Faye’s gaze lingered on her as she stepped toward her minions. “Don’t forget about me, cutie.”

When Faye finally disappeared into the Central Territories group, Niva shivered. Did she just get molested? And by a female disciple at that?

It took some staring out into space, but she came to terms with what just happened, and her initial state of bafflement turned into one of indignant rage. She made a vow. If Faye believed she could mess with her because of her heritage or because she had some lousy goons as friends, then she would be in for a world of hurt.

Niva’s steps echoed her sentiment as she stormed towards three disciples in the tree lines. At first, she only wanted some sparring partners, and if they clicked, then that would be a welcome bonus, but she realized she needed more than that. As a result, she would forcefully insert herself into the next group or drag them by the neck, depending on what the situation required.

Stepping up toward the blond-haired girl who was sculpting a figure, Niva’s voice near thundered. However, she didn't get to finish her greeting as the girl interrupted her.

“Welcome to the group. Cecilia Falck, pleased to make your acquaintance,” Cecilia said, smiling, not looking up from her sculpture but instead holding her hands out to her side. “And this is Raymond Schild.”

A burly boy jumped down from the branch he was sleeping on before handing Cecilia what looked like a pure essence stone. His disciple trouser seemed ready to explode, so thick were his leg muscles, and his arm looked similarly built. A singular arm since one of his sleeves flapped with the wind. “You cheated somehow. There’s absolutely no way to predict that,” Raymond said.

“Don’t underestimate a woman’s intuition,” Cecilia huffed, gratefully accepting the stone, and placing it in her pocket.

A quivering voice interrupted Niva when she wanted to ask what the two were talking about. “Why do the two of you look pleased with this development?”

Turning her head, Niva saw a pair of eyes peeking at her from behind the cover of a small booklet.

“It’s an interesting turn of events,” Cecilia said. ”You have to agree.”

“I’m not so sure, but whatever you say,” the boy spoke, raising his book a little to cover more of his face. “Ezra.”

The group’s reaction being way more open and friendly than Niva expected, flabbergasted her, only enabling her to croak out, “No last name?”

Ezra shook his head, which earned Niva’s respect. If you didn’t mention your last name when asked, then you must not be from a prominent clan. This mattered because, even though no one spoke about it, there existed quite a bit of discrimination based on someone’s background.

Understandably, the Empire wanted to waste as few resources as possible on duds –cultivators that couldn't reach beyond the high-Gron realm– and the easiest way to avoid that was to invest in the offspring of already prominent clans. So unless someone possessed extreme talent, the Empire wouldn't fund the children of unknown families.

For that reason, every child in an unimportant clan grew up with the single idea implanted in their brain that they needed to work as hard as they could to elevate their kin.

Niva remembered how her grandmother explained it to her: “Dying on the battlefield and becoming a martyr means you're doing your ancestors well. On the contrary, not achieving anything except escaping the war with your life means you are more useless than trash and should have been dropped into a chasm as a kid.

"A healthy guard dog that doesn't bite nor defend the property with its life should be fed to other dogs. Sadly, feeding low-level cultivators to high-ranked ones doesn't work. How do I know this, you ask? Because we tried already, of course.”

It was a harsh environment made necessary by their situation but there existed a silver lining, which was that the Empire gave anyone the chance to prove themselves before the age of fifteen so that they could still enter a sect. Thus, talent would always make its way through.

Entering the sect didn't mean you were guaranteed to make it, though, a dark voice in Niva's head said.

"Isn't it common courtesy to reply with your name instead of just standing there?" Cecilia interrupted Niva's musing.

“Sorry, Niva Asturias,” Niva said as she curtsied.

Cecilia put her sculpture away and clapped once. “So, let’s get to know each other a bit more, shall we? This is bound to be fun.”

­