The fragile balance within the inner sect finally shattered during what should have been an ordinary training session, as one of Zhao Kun's close followers deliberately stepped into Wang Lei's path, his expression filled with contempt that made his intentions obvious even before he spoke, and the surrounding disciples, sensing trouble, slowly gathered at a distance, eager to witness the inevitable confrontation.
"So this is the famous companion of Li Hao," the disciple sneered, his tone dripping with mockery as he circled slightly, clearly trying to provoke a reaction. "I expected more."
Wang Lei's eyes narrowed, but he did not immediately attack, his grip tightening slightly on his daggers as he measured the situation, remembering Li Hao's earlier warning about unnecessary conflict, yet the provocation did not stop, and instead grew sharper.
"Or maybe," the man continued, "you're only strong because you hide behind him."
That was enough.
The moment the words fell, Wang Lei moved.
His body blurred forward, twin daggers slicing through the air with precise, controlled speed as wind energy gathered around him, enhancing each movement, while his opponent reacted quickly, raising a defensive stance, their qi colliding in a sharp burst that echoed across the training ground.
The exchange was fast and intense, neither side holding back, yet Wang Lei's recent growth quickly became evident, as his attacks carried refined control rather than reckless aggression, forcing his opponent back step by step until a final decisive strike disarmed him, ending the fight in a single clean motion.
Silence fell briefly.
Then whispers spread rapidly among the spectators.
This was no longer a one-sided suppression.
Li Hao's team had proven they could stand their ground.