Aaryan stepped past the sect gates, his expression blank, his thoughts an absolute mess.

He had a dragon egg in his bag.

Not metaphorically. Not in some grand, poetic way. A real, actual dragon egg.

He resisted the urge to sigh for the eighth time since leaving the forest.

"This is getting ridiculous."

A few days ago, he was just another disciple, keeping his head down, trying to scrape together some resources. Now?

He had accidentally become a prophet.

He had scammed his way into free Essence Stones.

He had met a dying, ancient dragon.

And now, he was apparently a babysitter for an extinct species.

How did his life keep escalating like this?!

Aaryan rubbed his temples. No, he couldn't afford to focus on that right now.

There was a much bigger issue at hand.

Too Many People Were Noticing Him.

Even before the dragon encounter, things had spiralled out of control.

People whispered when he walked past.

Disciples stared at him with reverence.

Some even bowed.

The absolute worst part? He had started hearing the title "Wise One" from people he had never even spoken to.

Just last day, he overheard two disciples whispering as he passed.

"They say the Wise One can see the fate of a cultivator with a single glance!"

"I heard he once stared at a tree for three hours and gained enlightenment!"

He nearly tripped over his own feet just remembering it.

This had to stop.

If he kept this up, Even the higher-ups in the sect would eventually take notice. Then what? He couldn't just nonsense his way out of an interrogation.

No. It was time to retire from wisdom.

Permanently.

His eyes flickered to the bag strapped across his back. The egg rested inside, warm, pulsing faintly.

"None shall see it unless it wills it so…" the dragon's last words echoed in his mind.

At least that was one problem he didn't have to worry about.

Now, all that was left was burning his fake reputation to the ground.

And for that, he had the perfect plan.

"If they wanted wisdom, I'd give them so much nonsense they'd never take me seriously again."

Aaryan settled back, hands clasped behind his head as he admired his handiwork. Two disciples, one sprinting toward an icy death, the other practically flinging himself into a furnace. He almost felt guilty. Almost.

But this was necessary.

If he wanted to kill this ridiculous reputation, he had to make their faith in him collapse—on their terms. If they thought he was a fraud, they'd blame themselves for misunderstanding him, not question him outright.

And, judging by how fast they ran off, it wouldn't take long before things spiraled.

Just as he was about to relax, another figure appeared.

A woman this time, her robes crisp, her expression serious. She carried herself with the kind of confidence that only came from real skill.

Aaryan tensed. This one might be trouble.

"Wise One," she began, bowing. "I seek enlightenment on my next step in cultivation."

He narrowed his eyes. Something about her tone felt… off.

Still, he nodded, slipping into his role. "The heavens whisper many paths," he said, making a vague gesture to the sky. "But for you… I sense the need for stillness.

Complete, absolute stillness. Breathe not. Move not. Embrace silence, and only then shall the truth be revealed."

The woman's lips twitched, her gaze sharp. Ah.

Aaryan kept his expression calm, but inwardly, he cursed. This one wasn't blindly accepting his nonsense—she was testing him.

He had to get rid of her. Fast.

"Of course," she murmured, nodding. "Then, if I stop breathing for long enough, I will gain enlightenment?"

Aaryan barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "Naturally. The heavens favour those who embrace stillness absolutely. No hesitation."

She smiled slightly. "I understand."

And then, before he could say another word, she turned on her heel and left.

Aaryan exhaled slowly, watching her go. That was too easy. Suspiciously easy.

Just as he was about to dismiss it, she paused mid-step, tilting her head slightly—not looking back, but just enough to make it clear she wasn't entirely convinced.

Then, with an amused hum, she kept walking and disappeared into the crowd.

Aaryan leaned back, forcing his shoulders to relax.

So what if she saw through him? It wasn't like she was going to report him for spouting nonsense. If anything, she probably found the whole thing amusing.

Whatever. One down. A dozen more to go.

Aaryan smirked, stretching lazily.

At this rate, his reputation wouldn't last the week.

Hopefully.

Aaryan sat back, watching the chaos unfold like a divine comedy of his own making. He had spent days carefully sowing absurdity into his so-called wisdom, and now, the results were ripening.

The disciple who trained in the cold? Sick in bed with a fever, shivering under three layers of blankets. He had barely lasted two nights on the frozen cliffs before stumbling back, muttering about "the wisdom of frostbite."

The one who trained in heat? Collapsed from exhaustion, his robes singed from standing too close to the valley's molten core. Rumours spread that he had "forged his spirit in fire," but Aaryan doubted the burns felt very enlightened.

The disciple who meditated underwater? Nearly drowned and had to be fished out by a passing senior. He had emerged sputtering, gasping, and claiming to have "glimpsed the abyss." Aaryan hoped he at least learned how to hold his breath properly.

And the last one? The poor fool who was told to ignore all training and simply "feel the universe"? He had spent an entire week doing absolutely nothing. No cultivation, no meditation, just sitting in the courtyard, eyes closed, palms open, waiting for the secrets of existence to pour into his soul. When nothing happened, he began questioning if he had misunderstood enlightenment altogether.

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Aaryan almost felt bad. Almost.

But this was exactly what he needed.

The courtyard buzzed with tension. The "forged-in-fire" disciple, still nursing his burns, turned to the fever-ridden one, voice low but sharp.

"You said he told you to train in the cold?"

The other groaned, rubbing his temple. "He said it was my path. Something about hardship breeding true strength."

"Hardship?" The burnt disciple let out a dry laugh. "He told me heat was the key. Said fire would forge my spirit."

A brief silence. Then, a third voice. "I nearly drowned," muttered the water disciple, staring blankly at his still-wet robes.

The last disciple, the one who had spent a full week doing nothing, finally snapped. "I wasted seven days sitting here like an idiot!" His fists clenched. "I swear, if I hear 'the heavens whisper' one more time—"

He stopped, looking around as if suddenly realizing he had said too much. Others had turned to listen.

Whispers spread.

"Maybe we're misinterpreting his words?" one disciple pondered aloud. "Perhaps wisdom isn't meant to be understood immediately?"

"Or maybe," another muttered, glancing at their sick and burnt peers, "he's just making things up?"

Every failure chipped away at his ridiculous reputation. Whispers of his divine insight began turning to murmurs of doubt.

Ah. There it was. The first real cracks forming in their faith.

Aaryan leaned back, exhaling slowly. Just a little longer. Soon, this nonsense would crumble under its own weight.

Faith is fragile. A single doubt, properly planted, could bring down even the grandest illusion. And Aaryan had sown plenty.

Aaryan watched as the seeds of doubt took root, but doubt alone wasn't enough. If he wanted to ensure his so-called wisdom collapsed entirely, he needed something stronger—fear.

He started small. A casual comment here, a knowing look there. Nothing too obvious, just enough to let paranoia take its course.

"You know… some of the people who follow my words too strictly have suffered mysterious bad luck. Maybe the wisdom isn't meant for everyone."

He didn't elaborate. Just let the words hang, as if they carried a weight beyond mortal understanding. And then, he let the rumour grow on its own, feeding it with carefully placed whispers and subtle tricks.

First, he slipped a small pouch of Essence Stones to a desperate disciple, one eager for coin. In return, the disciple began lamenting loudly in the courtyard about his sudden misfortune.

"It's gone! All my Essence Stones—vanished! And it happened right after I followed the Wise One's words!"

Aaryan pretended not to notice, but the nearby disciples certainly did. They exchanged uneasy glances, shifting uncomfortably.

Then, he layered in more hints, never outright confirming anything, but never denying it either.

"The heavens are unpredictable," he would say with a knowing sigh. "Perhaps some aren't meant to receive wisdom."

A single sentence, nothing more. Yet in the right ears, it became a prophecy of doom.

Aaryan almost felt guilty. Almost. It was laughable how easily belief could be twisted, how a few well-placed words could turn faith into fear. He had expected resistance, for at least one of them to challenge the absurdity. But no—every whisper, every stolen glance only fed the fire. It was unsettling how simple it was. How far could he push this before they turned on him completely?

Then came the moment that truly tipped the balance.

A disciple, a particularly proud one, had been attempting a breakthrough for days. He had followed Aaryan's words precisely—or at least, whatever nonsense he had been given. But when the moment arrived, when the energy should have surged through his veins and lifted him to the next stage—

Nothing.

Failure. Complete and utter failure.

He staggered back, breathless, shaking with disbelief. "But… but I did everything right!"

The others watched in silence, waiting for Aaryan's reaction.

Aaryan merely sighed, giving the disciple a long, unreadable look. Then, in the softest voice, he said:

"Ah. It seems you were not chosen."

Before anyone could react, a sharp crack echoed through the courtyard. One of the disciples staggered back, clutching his leg. "I—I didn't do anything!" he gasped, looking at his ankle, which had twisted at an odd angle. Another let out a choked cough, specks of blood staining his sleeve. Aaryan didn't need to say anything. The fear was already settling in.

A ripple of unease swept through the gathered disciples. Some took an instinctive step back. Others darted glances at one another, their faith warping into something far more dangerous.

Fear.

One disciple, wide-eyed, suddenly bolted. "I don't want to be cursed!" he cried, fleeing from the courtyard as if even standing near Aaryan would taint his fate.

Another hesitated, then clutched his robes. "Wait… was it all a test?! Maybe we were never supposed to follow his words at all!"

And just like that, Aaryan watched as devotion twisted into paranoia. The believers became sceptics. The sceptics became the afraid.

He smiled slightly, folding his arms behind his head.

He had spent days crafting this nonsense, yet it only took a few stray words to turn them against themselves. Maybe wisdom really was dangerous after all.

Aaryan sat cross-legged in his cave, absently rolling an Essence Stone between his fingers. His carefully planted seeds of doubt were already blooming into full-blown confusion.

Disciples were arguing. Others were silently retreating. A few had even stopped showing up entirely.

Perfect.

Now, it was time for the final step—closing the scam permanently.

He sighed, shaking his head as he rose to his feet. With slow, deliberate steps, he exited his cave and made his way to the training grounds. It wasn't hard to find a group of his so-called followers. They were gathered in hushed, frustrated discussion, some pacing, others scowling.

One of them noticed him and gasped.

"The Wise One!"

The muttering died instantly. Every disciple turned to face him, their expressions ranging from desperate to outright suspicious.

Aaryan took a slow breath, lowered his gaze slightly, and put on the most solemn expression he could muster.

"The time has come," he intoned.

A ripple of tension spread through the group. A few of the more devoted ones straightened as if preparing to receive sacred wisdom.

"The path of enlightenment I have given you… has now reached its end."

Silence.

Aaryan exhaled dramatically, shaking his head.

"True wisdom cannot be contained forever. What has been given must one day be taken back. The heavens have spoken."

A disciple near the front swallowed hard. "T-Taken back?"

Aaryan closed his eyes, making his voice softer, almost regretful.

"My connection… fades." He paused, then sighed again. "The gift I once carried, the guidance I once shared… it is no longer mine to give."

Murmurs spread. Some disciples looked shocked. Others sceptical. One or two even nodded as if they had expected this outcome all along.

"If you seek answers now," Aaryan continued, placing his hands behind his back and gazing toward the sky as if listening to some unseen force, "you must find them within yourself."

A long silence stretched over the crowd.

Then, one of the more uncertain disciples hesitantly muttered, "So… that's it?"

Aaryan exhaled through his nose. "The heavens are ever-changing. Their will is unknowable. To cling to the past is to reject the present." He shook his head in mock sorrow. "It is time for you all to walk your own paths."

Another disciple frowned. "But—what about our cultivation?"

Aaryan turned to him, gaze heavy with completely fake wisdom.

"Did I not teach you all that progress is found in struggle?" He gave a slow, meaningful nod. "And is this not… the greatest struggle of all?"

The disciple looked stunned.

The rest of the group seemed unsure how to react. A few shifted awkwardly. One disciple opened his mouth like he was going to argue, then stopped.

Aaryan remained still, watching the group carefully. Just one wrong question, just one stubborn disciple refusing to let go, and this whole thing could collapse.

"But wait," one disciple muttered, frowning. "How do we know this isn't a test?"

Another elbowed him. "Everything is a test! He's making us prove we can stand on our own!"

The doubter hesitated, then slowly nodded. "…That makes sense."

Then—one of them sighed deeply and bowed.

"…I see. The Wise One has guided us to this point. Now, it is up to us."

Aaryan barely stopped himself from sighing in relief.

"Exactly."

The first disciple elbowed another. "You doubted him! But look—this was always meant to happen."

Aaryan straightened, exuding an aura of absolute certainty. "It was written in the stars."

And just like that, the last shreds of resistance melted.

Some disciples still looked uncertain. Some were clearly upset. But no one argued further.

One by one, they bowed before him, murmuring quiet words of thanks before slowly departing.

And then…

They were gone.

Aaryan stood there for a long moment, listening to the last fading footsteps.

Aaryan stayed perfectly still, ears straining for any returning footsteps.

Five seconds. Ten. Nothing.

He exhaled sharply, knees nearly buckling. "Finally."

"If I ever give out wisdom again, someone punch me."

And just like that, the Wise One was no more.

Aaryan strolled back toward his cave, his steps lighter than they had been in weeks. The air felt clearer, the sect grounds quieter—or maybe that was just the absence of disciples whispering "Wise One" behind his back.

Finally.

No more fake riddles. No more bowing idiots. No more desperate disciples trying to interpret his nonsense like sacred texts.

For the first time since this entire mess started, he was free.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips.

"That actually worked."

He let out a low chuckle, running a hand through his hair. The grand age of the Wise One was over.

But even as he walked, something became glaringly obvious.

He wasn't just some random nobody anymore.

Even without the 'prophet' title, his reputation had changed. He wasn't seen as a gullible weakling. He wasn't some forgettable disciple scraping by for resources anymore.

No—now, he was "that guy."

The clever one. The unpredictable one.

As he passed a pair of disciples, one elbowed the other and whispered, "That's him."

Aaryan caught the words, saw the way they eyed him—not with reverence anymore, but with a mix of wariness and intrigue.

His smirk deepened.

He could work with that.

Aaryan hummed, rolling an Essence Stone between his fingers.

"Maybe wisdom wasn't my calling," he mused. "But that doesn't mean I can't make money."

"No more divine guidance. Next time, I'm selling something tangible."

Like alchemical pills! The finest, rarest, and most definitely-not-just-ground-up Essence Stones! Guaranteed to awaken your potential… or at least give you a stomach-ache!

Or maybe an underground gambling ring? Let the disciples bet on who breaks through first—house always wins, of course.

Or perhaps… a mythical beast shop? 'Behold, the rare Azure Sky Rooster! Ignore the clucking—it's just practicing its draconic roar!'

The more he thought about it, the more he liked it.

Aaryan chuckled, rolling an Essence Stone between his fingers.

"Yeah. That sounds much easier."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Aaryan stepped into the shadows of the sect grounds, his mind already spinning with new ways to get rich.

He might not be the Wise One anymore…

But his scamming days were far from over.

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