Ye Chen closed the wooden door of his upper dormitory room, sliding the heavy iron bolt into its stone slot as the evening bells faded across the mountain ridge. The superficial scratch along his left forearm throbbed with a dull ache, reminding him that eighty seven days remained before the necrotic frost overwhelmed Lin Xi inside the hidden cellar on Anvil Row. He sat cross legged on the clean wooden floorboards, placing his plain iron sword across his knees while his breathing settled into a quiet, measured rhythm.
Inside his lower dantian, the Crystalline Shackle held with unyielding density, keeping ninety percent of his Primordial Chaos Core compressed behind dark violet void walls. His external aura rested at Body Tempering Stage 5, projecting the humble profile of a lucky laborer
