The early morning light began to spill over the Osborn compound, casting a warm golden glow on the tiled roofs. A delicate mist hovered low in the courtyards, dancing around stone lanterns and whispering bamboo. Robert woke up before the sun had completely risen, his body instinctively following the path of discipline while his mind was still buzzing with the heavy determination from the night before.

He rose, washed, and straightened his dark traveling robes. A faint pulse of qi hummed in his veins, steadier than ever, the mark of a man walking not just for himself but for the clan that bore his name.

When he reached his father's chambers, the door was closed, but soft voices carried through. He knocked, sounding firm yet respectful.

"Enter," John's voice came, steady as always.

Robert pushed the door open. Inside, John Osborn stood near the window, his frame upright as stone, while Mary sat gracefully at his side. Both looked up as Robert stepped in and bowed deeply.

"Father. Mother. Good morning."

Mary's eyes softened immediately. "Good morning, my son. Today is no ordinary day." Her lips curved faintly, but the weight in her gaze did not hide. "Do well in the competition. Not only for glory but for the future you have promised us."

Robert inclined his head. "I will, Mother."

John's golden eyes lingered on Robert for a breath longer before turning toward his wife. "Mary," he said firmly, "take care of the clan while i am gone. Handle the business as we planned. The trade lines must not falter, and the younger disciples must not slacken. Our foundation must remain steady."

Mary met her gaze without flinching. "It will be done."

The three of them exchanged no more words. The meaning of silence was sufficient. Robert bowed again and went out into the cool morning air with his father. Mary got up to bid them farewell, her face composed, but the anxiety in her heart concealed like a blade in its sheath.

By the time they reached the central hall, the air was alive with anticipation. Two elders were already waiting, their stances as angular as swords that had not yet been drawn. The disciples stood in silent rows behind them. The faint hum of qi resonated in the hall, pressing like the steady beat of a war drum.

As John, Mary, and Robert entered, the gathered Osborns bowed as one.

"Clan Head. Lady Mary, Young Master."

John gave a single nod, his presence radiating quiet authority. Mary stood by her side for a final moment, and all eyes softened as Essie stepped forward. She hurried to her mother's side, her youthful energy breaking the solemn air for a breath.

"Mother," she said, wrapping her arms around Mary.

Mary's smile bloomed for the first time that morning, her hand stroking her daughter's hair. "Do well, my child. Do good for the clan."

Essie nodded firmly, her eyes bright. "I will not fail."

Duty returned after the moment had passed. Three carriages waited outside, their wheels strengthened with iron bands and their lacquered wood polished. Before them, sleek, strong spirit beasts with silver-threaded reins pawed the ground. With strength sufficient to pull the carriages for days without faltering, each beast exhaled a mist that shimmered faintly with qi.

The first carriage belonged to the elders. Elder Zak, who had only recently broken through to Spirit Root Realm level nine (low stage), stood tall and resolute. His movements were calm but tinged with strength, and his aura was keen. Elder Alex, who had just attained Spirit Root Realm level seven (low stage), stood next to him. He exuded a steady sense of confidence yet also possessed the humility of a man who understood his own development. As pillars built to uphold the Osborn name, they collectively represented the clan's growing power.

John Osborn took his place in the same carriage, his presence ensuring that the leadership of the clan remained whole and unshaken.

The remaining two carriages were for the disciples—ten in total—five in each. Robert climbed into the second, his gaze sweeping briefly across Sarah, Ronan, Emer, Taylen, and Essie as they followed. Their faces were set with resolve, but Robert could still see flickers of nervousness in their eyes. He gave them a single nod, his voice steady.

"This journey is not just for the competition. It is to show the world who the Osborns have become. Carry yourselves with pride, and carry the clan in your hearts."

The words struck deeper than a command. Each disciple straightened, their resolve hardening as though tempered by flame.

The carriages thundered ahead. The sound of wheels hitting the stone pathway reverberated throughout the compound. As the procession passed, the elders and disciples who had stayed behind lined the walkway and bowed. They all raised their voices immediately:

"May the Osborn clan return in glory!"

The cry lingered in the air as the gates opened. The beasts heaved the carriages onto the main road, their warm breaths creating little clouds in the crisp air as they surged forward with each powerful stride. The Osborn compound stood resolutely behind them, its flags fluttering in the soft morning wind. The road ahead extended like a jagged blade, heading directly for the horizon.

At first, the carriage was filled with silence. Sarah sat with her sword across her lap, her fingers tracing the hilt as if she were in a deep meditation. Ronan's spear edge glinted softly against the wall as his eyes glistened with restless energy. While Taylen's fists clenched and relaxed, his knuckles cracking like distant thunder, Emer sat quietly, her composure like a calm pond.

Essie leaned back slightly, her youthful energy restrained, though her eyes often darted toward Robert.

At last, Taylen broke the silence. "Brother Robert… when we arrive, will we face disciples stronger than us?"

Robert's gaze met his. "Yes. Many will be stronger. But strength is not just cultivation. It is resolve, discipline, and unity. That is what will carry us."

Ronan grinned, his teeth flashing. "Then let them come. I will show them what Osborn steel looks like."

Emer's soft laugh broke the tension. "Just try not to break your arm again, Ronan."

The carriage filled with quiet laughter, a brief release of pressure before silence returned. Robert allowed the moment, then leaned back, closing his eyes briefly. His mother's words still lingered. Protect them. Do not let them fall.

His resolve hardened again. He would not let the fire of the Osborn clan be extinguished on Celestial Brook's stage.

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