The morning air was unusually thick.
Kaal stirred from sleep, his body sluggish, his breath shallow. The aftereffects of borrowing Qi through the fire crystal array had left his mortal vessel drained. Without a proper cultivation base, even the smallest manipulation of energy left him utterly exhausted.
But it wasn't just fatigue that pulled him from sleep.
It was the sound of shouts, gasps, and the buzz of anxious murmuring.
He blinked his eyes open and rubbed the crust from his lashes. Outside his tent, shadows passed in a hurry. Many Footsteps and Voices can be heard.
Something had happened. Kaal knows that this chaos must be his doing.
Kaal sat up groggily, instinctively reaching for the corner of the tent's flap. He forced his expression to remain blank, vacuous, as Arthur was known to be. Then he pushed himself up and stepped outside, weaving into the growing crowd with slow, deliberate steps.
