A dry pine needle drifted down from the grotto arbor, landing square in the middle of Kaelen Vance’s left eyebrow.
He did not brush it off. Moving an arm required physical effort, and physical effort belonged to people who lacked a proper philosophy of life.
The canvas hammock swayed three inches to the left, caught by the cool mountain breeze blowing up from the valley.
Through the weave of his straw hat, Kaelen watched his Fallow Slate hover in the corner of his vision.
[Track 1 (Cultivation Vessel): 610h / Multiplier: 611x] [Track 2 (Martial Combat): 610h / Multiplier: 611x] [Track 3 (Alchemy & Comprehension): 120h / Multiplier: 121x]
Ten hours had slipped past since yesterday’s ration distribution.
Six hundred and ten hours. That was twenty-five full days of uninterrupted slacking. He was only one hundred and ten hours away from his one-month milestone, where the Slate would hand him a juicy ten-times bonus.
If an assassin wants to hike up three miles of switchbacks just to stab me, the least he can do is wait until noon tomorrow, Kaelen thought.
