Night slowly settled in the Shadow Fang Sect, officially marking the first night for the new disciples of the sect.
This same night was the night for the tradition; some of the older members did.
The outer sect compound was quiet in the way predators prefer. Lanterns carved islands of dim amber light across stone paths. Vastness stretched in every direction in rows of identical stone residences, training yards sleeping like coiled beasts, and above it all, sect wards humming softly, as if breathing.
Bahamut sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor of their residence, his back straight, and his hands resting loosely on his knees, as he skimmed through the system.
He had yet to discover much about the world, but he had at least something about the system.
It was wicked!
The system wasn't like the ones he'd read about as a kid in one of his lives. It didn't give him a cheat. It just gave him stuff based on what he did or achieved.
