The purple defensive ward humming over the ancient crater flickered as its resonant pulse intersected the subterranean stone trenches, sending ripples of dark light across the terraced soapstone below.
Caleb Conway stood upon the rim of black volcanic rock, his perception extended through the crystalline golden root inside his chest to dissect the glowing dome before him. To the untrained disciples watching from the upper ridge, the barrier appeared as an impenetrable dome of solid, unyielding energy, but to Caleb’s analytical sight, the construct was a poorly balanced balance sheet of converging forces. The northern engineers had anchored their four pig-iron array plates to the high-pressure spirit springs, drawing vast volumes of liquid aura to sustain the perimeter without calculating
