Necro stepped lightly onto the jade path, the cold evening breeze brushing against his skin, carrying the crisp scent of pine and spiritual herbs cultivated across the mountainside terraces. The Sect at night was different—alive in a quieter, deeper way. Lanterns floated like drifting stars, and soft chanting echoed from distant training fields where disciples honed their techniques beneath the moonlight, each seeking their breakthrough.
San Xianying appeared from a shaded path, relief crossing his face when he saw Necro emerge intact.
"How was it?" he asked, unable to hide his curiosity, his eyes flickering to the faint glow within Necro's aura.
Necro paused, eyes distant, as if still walking among the constellations of Dao within the Pavilion. "Efficient."
San Xianying chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "That's one way to put it. Most disciples come out drained, minds shattered by the Dao Will projections inside. You… don't look any different."
