After two and a half weeks, Cain finally opened his eyes, and a sensation of comfort washed through every fiber of his being. The wounds he had sustained in the brutal clash with Azazel had fully healed. His soul and mind no longer trembled with exhaustion; instead, they pulsed with steady vitality.
Once he was certain his condition was stable, Cain projected his mind across the Scarlet Crown. The city was alive, thrumming with activity. Cultivators filled every courtyard, plaza, and training hall, their auras rising like waves as they tempered themselves through battle formations, meditated at the Scarlet Pillars, or submerged in the crimson pool to forge Scarlet Seeds. The city was functioning exactly as he had envisioned: a living crucible, raising warriors faster than any Heaven in the Everstreif Empyrean World could hope to match.
