The heavy iron stove in the center of the Rust Hall dormitory radiated a dry, popping heat that kept the damp chill off the sleeping laborers, but its rhythmic ticking offered the only sound breaking the subterranean quiet.
Ye Chen lay unmoving on his narrow straw mattress until the brass wall clock near the warden's office chimed twice, signaling the shift change for the inner sector watch patrols.
He slipped silently out of bed without disturbing the snoring recruit sleeping on the bunk above him, pulling his coarse gray work tunic tightly across his shoulders and sliding his unadorned iron sword into its boiled leather scabbard.
With ninety percent of his Primordial Chaos Core securely compressed behind the dark violet bands of the Crystalline Shackle, his external aura remained pegg
