Kaelen Vance untied the black linen blindfold the moment his sandals crossed the threshold of Cold-Spring Grotto.
He tossed the cloth onto the low porch table, stretched his arms toward the pine canopy, and collapsed into his canvas hammock with a long sigh.
Forty crates of pristine Tier 4 herbs sat stacked inside the herb shed, guarded by Barnaby Holt and three rebel spearmen. Beneath the floorboards of the inner chamber, an iron chest held one thousand seven hundred and fifty fresh Mid-Grade Spirit Stones.
Everything was in its proper place.
He pulled his woven straw hat down over his eyes, feeling the gentle sway of the ropes as the mountain breeze swept through the ravine.
Inside his dantian, the Nine-Ringed Fallow Core rotated with slow, rhythmic majesty.
[The Fallow Slate: Stage 3] [Track 1 (Cultivation Vessel): 286h 26m | Multiplier: 287x] [Track 2 (Martial Combat): 286h 26m | Multiplier: 287x] [Track 3 (Alchemy & Comprehension): 41 Hours | Multiplier: 42x] [Status: True Fallow State Maintained]
The numbers were climbing steadily. With every passing hour of undisturbed rest, his passive multipliers grew stronger.
