A shockwave hammered against the granite ceiling, knocking loose a sprinkle of dry limestone flakes.
The fine dust drifted down through the cool cavern air, settling over Kaelen’s woolen blanket. Below the cliff ledge, the boom echoed again, followed by a chorus of brass rattles.
THUM.
The sound vibrated through the rock floor, straight up the cedar posts of the hammock. It was a heavy, rhythmic pulse meant to churn a cultivator’s blood and shatter their inner focus.
“Kaelen Vance!” Senior Disciple Vayne shouted through his brass megaphone. “Come out and face the academy elders! Or do you plan to hide behind women until Friday’s noon assembly?”
Behind Vayne, twenty disciples from the Four Pill Houses slammed their lead-headed mallets down in unison.
THUM. THUM. THUM.
The sonic blast rattled the loose copper pots on the cooking hearth. It was loud enough to wake a hibernating badger three mountain ridges away.
