Kazaf: The upside down

The Elara Sect was alive with activity, disciples moving in coordinated drills, elders overseeing training sessions, and whispers of upcoming trials spreading like wildfire. The recent arrival of Kazaf and his exploits in the tomb had not gone unnoticed, and his name was quickly gaining recognition—both admiration and resentment.

But while the young warriors of the sect focused on their training, elsewhere in the Down world, hidden forces were moving.

Jalwa's Command

Deep within his hidden fortress, Jalwa, the Dark Master, sat on his grand obsidian throne, his piercing eyes scanning the room filled with his most trusted followers. His sources had kept him well-informed—Kazaf had not only survived the tomb's dangers but had emerged stronger, proving his growing potential. This, Jalwa could not ignore.

In front of him, kneeling in obedience, was Azar, his loyal right hand. "Master, the boy grows stronger with each passing day," Azar reported. "His group retrieved countless treasures, including a number of spirit stones. If left unchecked, he could become a threat."

Jalwa leaned forward, his fingers drumming against the armrest of his throne. "A threat? Or an opportunity?"

Azar hesitated. "Do you still believe he can be brought to our side?"

Jalwa smirked. "Every man has a price, Azar. If persuasion fails, we will use force. But first, we must test him further."

He turned to another man standing at the edge of the chamber—a tall, muscular warrior with a jagged scar across his face. "Rami," Jalwa addressed him, his tone firm. "I want you to send a group to the Elara Sect. Observe Kazaf. Challenge him if necessary. But do not kill him—not yet."

Rami nodded, his expression cold and unwavering. "As you command, Master."

Jalwa's smirk deepened. "And if the opportunity presents itself, remind him that power in the Down world does not come from blind loyalty—it comes from choosing the winning side."

As Rami left to prepare his men, Jalwa leaned back into the shadows. Kazaf was only beginning to taste the reality of the Down world. Soon, he would have to make a choice—one that would shape his future forever.

Kazaf's Rising Reputation

Back in the Elara Sect, Kazaf was beginning to understand what it meant to be a cultivator in the Down world. His name was spreading rapidly, and not just because of his battle against Tariq. His ability to hold his own against formidable opponents and his fearless nature in the tomb had made him a rising figure among the younger generation.

But with recognition came challenges.

As Kazaf walked through the sect's training grounds, he noticed more disciples watching him with a mixture of curiosity, admiration, and barely concealed hostility. Some nodded in respect, while others glared, clearly unimpressed with the growing rumors surrounding him.

"Seems like you've got yourself some fans," Rahim joked, nudging Kazaf as they passed a group of disciples whispering about him.

"Or enemies," Samir muttered, eyeing a pair of cultivators from another sect who were training nearby.

Harun chuckled. "Well, if they want to test him, they'll regret it soon enough."

Kazaf smirked but said nothing. He wasn't here to make friends or enemies—only to get stronger.

As they moved toward one of the sect's sparring arenas, they found Asma already there, engaged in a fast-paced duel with a senior disciple. Her movements were fluid, her strikes precise. Kazaf watched as she skillfully countered her opponent's attacks, landing a powerful strike that sent him stumbling back.

The watching crowd cheered, and Asma, slightly out of breath, turned to Kazaf with a smirk. "Took you long enough to show up. Thought you were getting cold feet."

Kazaf grinned. "I was letting you have your moment."

She scoffed and tossed him a wooden training sword. "Then let's see if you can take mine away."

The crowd murmured with interest as Kazaf stepped into the arena. Training matches weren't uncommon, but the chance to see the mysterious half-breed face off against Asma was too good to miss.

Kazaf and Asma stood opposite each other, weapons raised, their eyes locked in challenge.

"Don't hold back," Asma warned.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Kazaf replied.

And with that, the fight began.

The Storm Brewing

Unbeknownst to them, however, Jalwa's men had already begun making their way toward the Elara Sect. Their arrival would bring more than just another test for Kazaf—it would mark the beginning of a deeper conflict, one that would force him to decide where he truly belonged.

The Down world was watching.

And Kazaf's journey was far from over.

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