The cavern roof groaned under the weight of an unnatural sky.
Through the jagged fissure above the subterranean spring, the blue daylight vanished. It was replaced by a swirling vortex of indigo and bruised violet clouds that crackled with pale frost-lightning.
A heavy, suffocating pressure dropped onto Cold-Spring Grotto like an iron bell.
Barnaby Holt dropped his roasting skewers into the dirt, his one arm trembling as he pointed toward the ceiling.
“The tribulation clouds are descending!” Barnaby cried out, his voice cracking with panic. “Mina’s core is drawing heaven-and-earth qi from five mountain peaks! Young Master, you must channel your pill-fire to anchor her meridians!”
Kaelen didn’t budge from his wicker chair. He pulled his blanket a little higher over his shoulders and took a slow sip of cooled barley tea.
Circulate my Qi? Kaelen thought, watching the purple sparks dance across the rock. If I twitch a single meridian right now, my current slacking streak resets to zero. The extra accumulation could vanish, even if the sealed lunar surge remains safe. Not a chance.
“Channeling my Qi would disrupt her Yin-frequency,” Kaelen said smoothly, his voice calm and unhurried. “We must rely on standard protective engineering.”
