Quinlan smiled widely while spitting a red mist of blood into the wind.
His body burned.
His soul surged.
He was ready.
The breakthrough to the True Foundation stage had come.
He hit the ground like a meteor.
Dirt exploded outward in a shallow crater as his thudded hard into the earth.
But Quinlan didn't groan. Didn't even curse under his breath.
He just exhaled slowly, deliberately, letting the ache bleed from his limbs and the dizziness fade. Then, even with fractured ribs and blood in his mouth, he sat up cross-legged in the shallow hollow his crash had made.
The moment was here.
The elements still whispered through him, pulsing around his core in perfect synchronization. He could feel them balancing one another, harmonizing—not just as weapons or tools, but as parts of him. Extensions of his breath. His will.
He closed his eyes and began to cultivate.
…
A shadow fell across him mere moments later.
