The dawn breeze shifted, carrying the scent of pine and dew across the terraces as Necro stepped forward, leaving the stabilization chamber behind. The world was waking once more, the mountains catching the first hints of sunlight, mist curling off the river below in slow, ghostly tendrils. Every step he took was deliberate, yet the earth itself seemed to resonate with his presence now, a faint whisper of acknowledgment in the qi that flowed along the ground.
As Necro approached the main training grounds, the first disciples were already moving through their morning drills. Wooden swords cut through the air with clean lines, spear tips glinted in the pale light, and formations were being etched onto practice talismans by trembling hands seeking precision. The hum of the Sect's protective arrays reverberated softly beneath the grounds, harmonizing with the breath and movements of each cultivator present.
Necro paused at the edge of the grounds, observing.
