The sound of the wind cut through the night.
The abandoned house creaked with every stronger gust, as if it were trying to tear itself from the ground.
Yanyu and Ren Yao sat near the wall, cultivating in silence. A faint glow of Qi emanated from them.
Both breathed calmly, immersed in the circulation of their Qi flow.
Kyrian, on the other hand, remained motionless. He was seated on a simple chair before the broken window.
Outside, beyond the wind, the village remained in complete silence.
The wind dragged the ashes that covered the ground, and the moon illuminated the well at the center, the same place where he had found the formation.
The dark marks were still there, like open wounds in the soil.
Kyrian rested his chin on his hand and watched the horizon.
For an instant, his mind began to wander and sink into his memories.
The images returned, even though he thought he had forgotten them.
