Author's Note: Do Not Unlock Yet. Chapter Is Still Under Construction.
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The next morning, he mounted a swift-gray cloudhorse—gifted by the grateful Emberford Guild—and galloped toward the valley. The landscape shifted from rolling fields to rugged limestone peaks, the air thick with rising qi. The Valley of Qi Eddies lay concealed beneath drifting mists, a sunken basin where petals of azure energy danced like will-o'-wisps above jade-wet grass.
There, on a smooth granite slab beside the swirling eddy-pool, stood Tarkos—lean, sharply dressed in assassin's black leathers, twin daggers at his hips. His back rippled with inky tattoos that sprang to life as Victor approached. Tarkos's pale smile was as cold as moonlight.
"Fang Chen," he said, voice echoing across the eddy. "You returned just in time."
Victor dismounted, gripping Tarkos's extended hand. "Three days left," he replied, stepping into the swirling qi. "Let's make them count."
