After forty hours of scouting the dam and watching the poison carts, the raiders gathered on the eastern cliff. The midnight air turned brittle as crystalline frost spread across the jagged face of the eastern precipice.
Mina Vance stood at the edge of the sheer thousand-foot drop, her silver hair whipping in the whistling gale.
Behind her, Kaelen Vance leaned against the grotto doorframe, holding a small porcelain jar wrapped in coarse linen.
“Take eight Cloud-Veined Supreme Pills,” Kaelen said, handing the jar to Sera. “One for each of you. It locks your meridians in a Fallow bubble for three hours. No spiritual leakage, no light, and no sound.”
Sera took the jar, her cold fingers brushing against his warm palm.
“Are you sure you can spare them?” Sera asked softly, her amber eyes reflecting the lantern glow. “Eight Tier 4 Supreme Pills could purchase a small fortress.”
“Master Ash spent thirty years trying to invent stealth talismans before he realized a simple truth,” Kaelen muttered, leaning against the doorpost. “Drawing glowing ink on paper only creates more spiritual noise. If you want to be invisible, you simply slow down your spiritual metabolism until you resemble a cold turnip.”
“A turnip,” Sera echoed, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
