Guo Jiang's spirit ship left Hyenan before the afternoon light had faded. Deng Yun remained at the gate until the vessel became a small shape above the southern horizon, then returned to the inner halls with the Platinum-ranked palm legacy still secured in both hands. He entered closed-door cultivation soon afterward. Before sealing himself away, he ordered the elders to reorganize training schedules, restrict access to the new inheritance, and record every disciple allowed to study its foundations. Silver Moon Sect changed gradually rather than overnight. Inner disciples were required to guide outer disciples through the basic stances, while elders compared the new palm method with the sect's older techniques so that mistakes would not be passed down as tradition. Rumors spread across Hyenan anyway. Some claimed Guo Jiang had granted Silver Moon Sect direct Banxiang protection, while others insisted Deng Yun had obtaine

The soldiers of Vellenor had been training since morning beneath the heat of Windy Desert. Their commanders demanded longer marches, heavier equipment, and repeated formation drills, standards that many human troops privately believed had been designed for the stronger physiques of Thessul soldiers rather than ordinary men. Complaints were dangerous, so most resentment appeared only during short breaks. Youdon and Wangdue had found shade beneath a date palm far enough from their officers to speak without being overheard, though both still watched the training field whenever a commander’s whistle sounded. Youdon wiped sweat from his forehead and looked at Wangdue’s water bottle. “You still have some left, don’t you? Give me a little.” Wangdue pulled the bottle closer and reminded him that everyone had known they would be training in the desert. When Youdon admitted that he had misjudged how m

Torredorm Palace became busiest in the hours before sunset. While the underground cells remained cold and dim, kitchens above them filled with steam, servants carried wine jars and lacquered trays through long corridors, and musicians repeated the same ceremonial passages until every transition matched the order expected by the royal household. The contrast between the palace and the city outside was difficult to ignore. Food enough to feed several streets was being prepared for one evening, yet servants still spoke carefully whenever King Monorch’s name entered the conversation. Fine carpets and bright lanterns could hide poverty from a banquet guest, but they could not hide fear from people who worked under the same roof every day. Near the kitchens, one young servant nearly dropped a tray when a supervisor called her name. An older woman caught the edge before the cups fell and whispered that a broken cup would cost more than wages