The silence that fell over Crater Island was thick enough to chew.
Kaelen Vance stood on the broken marble terrace, holding his steaming teacup in his left hand and Claire’s leather recipe book tucked casually under his right arm.
Beside the recipe book, he held a dog-eared copy of Book twelve of The Bandit King’s Secret Bride. He had been right in the middle of the scene where the dashing bandit king disguises himself as an apprentice gardener to infiltrate the imperial kitchen. Kaelen found the protagonist’s tactical dedication to fresh snacks deeply relatable.
Between his two fingers, the Tier 8 Cloud-Veined Supreme Saint Restoration Pill blazed with unblemished bronze-white radiance.
The three ancient cloud patterns swirled like living rivers across the pearl-white surface.
There was zero Pill-Poison. Zero grey sediment.
The sweet, earthy aroma of mountain honey and wild herbs washed over the shattered plaza, completely erasing the metallic reek of dried blood and void-iron.
Ancestor Pyre stared at the pill.
