The list of names burned in Lin Tian's mind long after the guard was led away to rest. Uncle Liang. Cousin Hong. Forty others.
He stood on the pavilion's observation platform, the night wind cold on his face, and felt the vast, silent hostility of the world beyond the sect's protective mist. It wasn't just politics anymore. It was a purge.
"The Volcanic Forge," he said, the words barely more than a breath.
Su Lan, standing beside him with her arms crossed, nodded. "The Sea of Eternal Embers. It's the closest fragment on the map. If the Void Monarch's agents are hunting Progenitor energy, that's where they'll strike next."
"Or where they've already been," Xueya added, her voice like frozen crystal. She stood on his other side, a statue of pale resolve. "We cannot wait for another list of the dead."
