The crowd's murmuring faded behind them as Lin Tian led his group out of the Grand Forge Yard. The weight of the mountain's approval still hummed in his bones, a quiet echo of the spearhead's song.
Lu Cang walked beside him, turning the newly forged weapon over in his hands like a sacred relic. "I can feel it breathing," he muttered, his voice full of wonder.
"It's tuned to you," Lin Tian said. "And to this place. Don't lose it."
"I'd sooner lose an arm."
They turned into a narrower street lined with steaming vents, the air thick with the smell of sulfur and hot metal. Before they could discuss their next move, a figure dropped from a rooftop ledge above, landing in a crouch that sent a small puff of ash into the air.
Yan Jiao straightened up, brushing soot from her leathers. Her fierce smile was gone, replaced by a tense, focused expression. "You made your point out there," she said, her eyes locked on Lin Tian. "Now let's see if you can solve a real problem."
