A concussive shockwave of emerald heat blasted outward from the cedar tub, freezing Scar-Hand Venn mid-swing.
The two Cloud-Veined Supreme Pills dissolved on Kaelen’s tongue like chilled mountain mint. Zero Pill-Poison entered his blood, only pure, concentrated medicinal essence that ignited like liquid fire.
In his lower abdomen, the three-hundred-and-one times cultivation multiplier roared to life.
Under the immutable rules of the Fallow Slate, one burst minute equaled three hundred and one full baseline hours of cultivation.
A violent atmospheric vacuum formed inside the enclosed bathhouse.
Air roared through the shattered doorway, whipping the hot steam into a spinning, emerald-tinted cyclone. The loose cedar shingles on the roof rattled against their iron nails, vibrating under the sheer density of gathering spiritual pressure.
Across the wooden benches lining the walls, the two thousand Low-Grade Spirit Stones began to tremble.
Emerald light erupted from the crystalline matrices. Ten thousand luminous green threads pulled free from the gems, arcing through the air like radiant spider silk.
