After stepping out of the hall and making my way to the compound, the atmosphere was still calm, except for the steady footsteps of the guards on patrol.
Robert had not had much rest over the past three days; his mind was racing with plans, and his body was keeping up with the relentless pace. His father had given him the freedom to act, and he was taking full advantage of it.
From the first morning, he set out beyond the Osborn gates. The Magical City was a vast place, filled with rootless cultivators, wandering disciples, and fallen descendants of smaller clans.
If their clan was going to expand, he had to seek out not just more members but individuals who had that special spark and real potential.
He found the first pair near the western market—a boy and girl from a ruined clan who had once prided themselves on the sword. Though they were both under twenty, their calloused hands revealed a lifetime of experience and skill that seemed far beyond their years.
