Kaelen Vance pulled his quilted wool blanket snugly over his chest.
The coarse hemp hammock swung with a gentle, hypnotic rhythm between the two basalt pillars.
Barnaby Holt stood beside the hammock, holding a wooden tray with a clean porcelain teacup and a sealed jade jar. His weathered face was full of nervous anticipation.
“Young Master,” Barnaby whispered, leaning close so his voice wouldn’t carry across the cavern. “Are you taking the twenty pills now? Shall I prepare the hot spring water and the blood-soothing incense?”
“Not yet,” Kaelen murmured from beneath his black silk blindfold.
“Not yet?” Barnaby asked, blinking in confusion. “You just said you were breaking through to Golden Core Mid.”
“I am,” Kaelen said, his voice slow and muffled against his down pillow. “In thirty hours.”
Barnaby’s mouth dropped open. “Thirty hours? But Young Master, you already have the pills in your sleeve. And you have the locked Milestone Seal on Track 1.”
