The transition from the silent, freezing wilderness to the edge of civilization was not gradual. It hit them like a physical wave.
As the sun finally dipped below the jagged peaks of the Ten Thousand Beast Mountain Range, casting long, deep purple shadows across the snow, Lin An and Lord Lin reached the crest of the final snowy ridge.
Below them, nestled within the throat of a massive, naturally formed canyon, was Windstone City.
It did not look like the elegant, historically rich capital cities of the mortal empires, nor did it resemble the serene, mist-shrouded pavilions of orthodox sects. Windstone City was an industrial beast of commerce, built entirely for function and profit.
The city was terraced directly into the steep, rocky walls of the canyon, protecting it from the brutal, freezing gales that swept down from the mountains. Thousands of glowing runic lanterns burning in hues of amber, pale green, and harsh white illuminated the descending tiers of the city, making it look like a glowing hive in the dark.
But the most striking feature was the sky above the canyon.
Tethered to massive stone spires that jutted out from the city's upper tiers were the airships. They were colossal vessels, some easily the size of a mortal palace, constructed from dark, reinforced spirit-wood and heavy iron plating. Faint hums of concentrated True Qi vibrated through the air as the ship's internal arrays idled. Even from a mile away, the sheer scale of the Cross-Continent Trade Guild's logistical power was undeniable.
"By the heavens..." Lord Lin breathed out, a cloud of white vapor escaping his lips as he stared down at the sprawling, glowing canyon. "I have managed trade routes for thirty years, but I have never seen a hub of this magnitude."
"It is a city built entirely around a single bottleneck," Lin An observed calmly, his dark eyes scanning the layout. "The mountains are impassable on foot. The Guild owns the only safe airspace. Therefore, all wealth in this region must funnel through this exact canyon. It is a perfect monopoly."
They descended the ridge, joining the main road that led toward the city's massive iron gates.
The road was heavily congested. A chaotic, noisy caravan of travelers was slowly inching its way toward the entrance. There were merchants riding six-legged beasts of burden, scarred mercenaries polishing their weapons around small campfires, and rogue cultivators draped in eccentric robes, their auras deliberately flaring to keep the commoners at bay.
The smell of the air shifted drastically. The crisp, clean scent of pine and snow was replaced by the heavy odors of roasting meat, exotic spices, unwashed bodies, and the sharp, ozone-like tang of active spirit arrays.
Lin An pulled his coarse grey mantle tighter around his shoulders, hunching slightly to complete the illusion of a frail, sickly youth. He suppressed his Dantian completely. To the eyes of anyone scanning the crowd, he was simply a mortal with a remarkably weak constitution, clinging to his father for survival.
They joined the back of the line. For two hours, they shuffled forward in the freezing cold, surrounded by the complaints and curses of the delayed travelers.
Finally, they reached the front of the queue at the main gates.
The entrance was flanked by two towering statues of winged beasts, their eyes glowing with active, localized scanning arrays. Standing beneath the archway were a dozen guards wearing the grey and gold armor of the Cross-Continent Trade Guild. They did not look like the disciplined, rigid soldiers of the Imperial Army. They looked relaxed, wealthy, and supremely arrogant.
A guard captain, casually leaning against a halberd, stepped forward as Lord Lin and Lin An approached. The captain had the aura of a mid-stage Qi Condensation cultivator.
"Halt," the captain barked, his eyes briefly sweeping over their simple clothes and lack of a carriage. "Entry toll is two low-grade Spirit Stones per person. The city is at maximum capacity due to the upcoming auction. If you don't have the stones, turn around and freeze in the woods."
Mortal silver was entirely useless here. The baseline currency for mere survival had shifted to the realm of cultivators.
The travelers behind them groaned, anticipating an argument. Two Spirit Stones was a small fortune for a mortal merchant just looking to trade raw goods.
Lord Lin did not argue. He did not puff out his chest or mention his past status. He simply smiled the warm, deferential smile of a man who understood how the gears of corruption turned.
"Of course, Captain," Lord Lin said smoothly, stepping closer and lowering his voice so the crowd behind them couldn't hear. "We understand the immense pressure the Guild is under, keeping the peace with such a massive influx of esteemed guests."
With a practiced sleight of hand, Lord Lin pulled a small leather pouch from his robes and pressed it into the captain's gauntleted hand.
The captain subtly squeezed the pouch. He could feel the distinct, dense shapes of five low-grade Spirit Stones inside. His arrogant expression instantly softened into a look of quiet, professional approval.
"My son and I are merely passing through," Lord Lin continued softly, pointing a thumb at the coughing Lin An behind him. "We hope to find a quiet inn and purchase some medicinal herbs. We wouldn't want to burden the guards with a lengthy inspection of our meager travel bags."
The captain slipped the pouch into his belt in one fluid motion. He glanced at Lin An, saw nothing but a pale, shivering mortal, and nodded.
"The Guild welcomes sensible travelers," the captain said loudly, stepping aside and waving his hand toward the heavy iron gates. "Keep to the lower tiers if you want cheap herbs. Avoid the upper districts unless you have business at the auction house. Move along."
"Thank you, Captain," Lord Lin bowed his head slightly.
He gestured for Lin An to follow, and the two of them walked through the massive archway, effortlessly bypassing the glowing scanning arrays that the guards had conveniently deactivated for a brief second.
As they crossed the threshold, the deafening roar of Windstone City swallowed them whole.
The streets were a chaotic labyrinth of stone and wood, packed shoulder-to-shoulder with people of every origin. Street vendors shouted the prices of glowing monster cores and talisman papers, while the clanging of blacksmith hammers echoed from the side alleys. Above them, the massive shadow of an airship slowly drifted across the canyon, its runic engines humming with deep, resonant power.
Lord Lin let out a long breath, adjusting the strap of his travel bag. He looked around the vibrant, overwhelming chaos of the street.
"Well," Lord Lin said, his voice barely audible over the din of the crowd. "We are in. Now, we just need to find a place to sleep that won't slit our throats for our boots."
Lin An looked at the crowded street. His dark eyes methodically mapped the exits, the blind spots, and the flow of the crowd. The air was thick with the auras of hundreds of cultivators, masking his own presence perfectly.
"Let us walk, Father," Lin An replied simply. "The lower tiers will provide exactly what we need for tonight."
They stepped off the main thoroughfare and merged seamlessly into the endless, flowing river of the city's lower district.
The lower tier of Windstone City was a subterranean maze of sensory overload.
Unlike the grand, spacious avenues of the upper districts where the wealthy merchants and elite sect members resided, this area was carved deep into the rocky foundation of the canyon. The streets were narrow, winding, and completely shielded from the open sky by the overlapping stone terraces above. The air here was constantly thick with the smell of roasting meat, cheap rice wine, and the pungent smoke of low-grade medicinal herbs burning in iron braziers.
Despite the late hour, the district was intensely alive. Rogue cultivators with scarred faces haggled aggressively over the price of chipped spirit-weapons, while mortal laborers hauled massive crates of raw ore toward the loading docks of the airships.
Lord Lin took the lead, his merchant instincts flawlessly adapting to the new environment. He did not act like a wealthy patriarch. He walked with his shoulders slightly hunched, keeping a firm grip on his travel bag, portraying a seasoned, cautious traveler who knew better than to draw attention.
Lin An followed a half-step behind. He kept his head down, allowing the wide brim of his bamboo hat to obscure his features. His expanded Spiritual Sense operated passively, not probing the crowd, but simply acting as a radar to avoid pickpockets and overly aggressive drunkards.
"We need a place that caters to working merchants, not to sect disciples," Lord Lin muttered softly, his eyes scanning the wooden signboards swinging above the doorways. "Too cheap, and we risk getting robbed in our sleep. Too expensive, and we draw unwanted questions."
After twenty minutes of navigating the crowded alleys, Lord Lin stopped in front of a three-story building built directly into the canyon wall. The sign, painted in fading black ink, read: *The Ashen Hearth Inn*.
It looked sturdy, unremarkable, and lacked the flashy runic arrays of the high-end establishments. A few rugged mercenaries were sitting on the porch, quietly drinking from wooden tankards.
"This will do," Lord Lin decided.
They walked inside. The interior was surprisingly warm and well-kept. A massive stone hearth dominated the center of the common room, providing both heat and light. Lord Lin approached the front desk, where a bored-looking innkeeper with the faint aura of early-stage Qi Condensation was polishing a glass.
"A room for two," Lord Lin said, his tone polite but businesslike. "Quiet, away from the street facing, if you have it."
"One low-grade Spirit Stone a night," the innkeeper replied without looking up. "Meals are extra. Hot water is extra. No fighting in the rooms."
Lord Lin didn't bargain. In a city operating at maximum capacity, a fixed price was a luxury. He retrieved a single glowing stone from his pouch and placed it on the counter. The innkeeper finally looked up, his eyes quickly evaluating the mundane quality of their clothes, before tossing a heavy iron key across the desk.
"Room twenty-four. Second floor, end of the hall."
The room was spartan but perfectly clean. It contained two sturdy wooden beds, a small writing desk, and a washbasin. There were no windows, only a small ventilation shaft carved through the rock that brought in fresh, cold air from the canyon.
As soon as Lord Lin locked the heavy wooden door behind them, the tense posture he had maintained since entering the city instantly vanished. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, letting out a long, exhausted sigh.
"We have a roof," Lord Lin said, rubbing his weary eyes. "But we cannot walk around looking like refugees tomorrow. In a trade city, your attire is your credit score. If we look poor, we will be treated as prey."
Lin An nodded in agreement. He removed his bamboo hat and the coarse grey mantle, tossing them onto the desk.
"Rest for an hour, Father," Lin An said, moving toward the washbasin to splash some cold water on his face. "Then we will go out and purchase new clothes. We need to establish our new personas before the sun rises."
An hour later, the two of them slipped back into the bustling lower tier.
They bypassed the weapon smiths and the pill pavilions, seeking out a pragmatic tailor. They found a brightly lit shop operated by a fast-talking mortal merchant who specialized in outfitting rogue cultivators and traveling appraisers.
They discarded their old clothes entirely. For Lord Lin, they purchased a set of deep burgundy merchant robes. The fabric was woven with faint, low-level spirit-threads that naturally repelled dirt and regulated temperature. It made him look respectable, slightly prosperous, but entirely mundane a perfect disguise for an independent appraiser or a mid-level guild associate.
For Lin An, they chose a set of simple, durable dark grey martial robes. There were no elaborate embroideries or sect insignias. It was the standard attire of a hired bodyguard or a silent apprentice. Paired with a simple black cloth belt and a pair of sturdy leather boots, he looked entirely unremarkable.
When they returned to their room at the Ashen Hearth, Lord Lin looked at his son, appreciating the pragmatic transformation.
"We blend in perfectly," Lord Lin noted, adjusting the cuffs of his new burgundy coat. "But what is our next move? We have enough Spirit Stones to live comfortably in this room for months, even with the inflated prices."
Lin An sat at the small writing desk. He poured himself a cup of plain water from the clay pitcher, taking a slow sip.
"Wealth without a visible source is the fastest way to attract the wrong kind of attention," Lin An explained, his voice calm and analytical. "If we simply stay in this room and spend Spirit Stones, the innkeeper will notice. The local gangs will notice. They will assume we are either carrying a massive treasure or hiding from a bounty."
"So, we need an income," Lord Lin deduced, pulling up a wooden chair. "Even if it's just a front."
"Exactly," Lin An confirmed. "But more importantly, we need a map. We are entirely blind to the power dynamics, the restricted zones, and the undercurrents of Windstone City. If we start asking questions about the upcoming auction or the airship schedules, people will get suspicious."
Lin An set his cup down. "The easiest way to gather information without raising suspicion is to get paid to do it. We need to find the local mercenary board or the adventurer's guild. By accepting a low-level commission, we gain a legitimate reason to move around the city, ask questions, and interact with the locals."
Lord Lin smiled, thoroughly enjoying the logical flow of the strategy. It was exactly how a new merchant infiltrated a foreign market.
"There is a large public posting board in the central square of this tier," Lord Lin recalled from their earlier walk. "I saw dozens of cultivators gathered around it. They call it the 'Iron Ledger'."
"Then that is where we begin," Lin An said, standing up. "You will be the independent appraiser and negotiator. I am your hired muscle. Let us go see what kind of problems this city is willing to pay to solve."
The Iron Ledger was not a book, but a massive wall of dark iron erected in the center of a lively plaza. Hundreds of parchment papers, wooden plaques, and glowing jade slips were pinned to the metal.
The plaza was packed. Cultivators of various realms, mostly in the Qi Condensation stage, were scanning the board, arguing over bounties, or forming temporary parties.
Lin An and Lord Lin approached the periphery of the crowd. With their new clothes, they fit the demographic perfectly. No one gave the prosperous-looking merchant and his quiet, grey-robed bodyguard a second glance.
Lin An did not push through the crowd. He engaged the ethereal meridians in his Dantian, allowing his Spiritual Sense to passively absorb the information written on the board from thirty feet away.
"Bounty: Hunt a low-level Frost-Wolf in the eastern ridges. Reward: 10 low-grade stones."
"Request: Escort a caravan of silk to the upper district. Reward: 5 low-grade stones."
"Wanted: Alchemist assistant for pill sorting. Must recognize basic fire-herbs."
Lin An filtered out the hunting quests and the menial labor. He was looking for something that offered access, not just pocket change.
His eyes locked onto a crisp, high-quality piece of parchment pinned near the center of the board. It bore the golden wax seal of the Cross-Continent Trade Guild.
Commission: The Guild requires independent material appraisers to assist in the preliminary sorting of artifacts and raw ores for the upcoming Grand Auction. Applicants must possess a keen eye for mundane and low-tier spiritual materials. Combat prowess is not required, but strict confidentiality is mandatory. Reward: Daily stipend of 3 low-grade stones and restricted access passes to the Guild's outer warehouse.
Lin An gently tapped his father's shoulder and pointed toward the golden-sealed parchment.
"There," Lin An whispered. "An appraisal job for the Grand Auction. It gets us an access pass to the Guild's warehouses and puts us directly in the center of the city's logistical flow."
Lord Lin read the posting, his merchant eyes lighting up with genuine interest. Identifying and sorting raw materials was his absolute specialty.
"It's perfect," Lord Lin agreed, a confident smile returning to his face. "I can appraise raw ores in my sleep. And with a Guild access pass, nobody will question our presence in the city."
Lin An nodded, his gaze shifting toward the massive, glowing airships tethered in the sky above.
They had their cover. They had their entry point. Now, it was time to map the abyss of Windstone City.
The Cross-Continent Trade Guild did not conduct its menial hiring in the opulent, marble-floored pavilions of the upper city. They maintained a strictly utilitarian recruitment office in the lower tier, a heavily reinforced stone building that looked more like a military bunker than a merchant house. Above the heavy oak doors hung the Guild's crest: a pair of golden scales perfectly balanced over a silver coin.
Lin An and Lord Lin joined the line of applicants spilling out of the office and into the cold, lamp-lit street.
The crowd was a mix of desperate rogue cultivators, grizzled mercenaries looking for a change of pace, and a few mortal scholars down on their luck. The atmosphere was tense, filled with the muttering of men who needed the daily stipend of Spirit Stones just to afford another night under a roof.
Lin An stood silently behind his father. In his simple dark grey martial robes, with the bamboo hat pulled low, he looked exactly like the dozens of other hired guards standing in the line. He kept his breathing shallow and his Dantian perfectly still. To the occasional sweep of a guard's Spiritual Sense, he registered as nothing more than background noise.
Lord Lin, on the other hand, was entirely in his element. The burgundy merchant robes gave him an air of quiet, established competence. He didn't fidget or complain about the cold. He simply observed the people exiting the building.
"They are rejecting most of them," Lord Lin whispered, leaning slightly back toward Lin An without turning his head. "Look at their hands. The cultivators are angry, but the Guild isn't looking for fighters. They are looking for patience. A man who only knows how to swing a sword will lose his mind sorting through thousands of pounds of raw ore."
"Cultivators also rely too heavily on their Spiritual Sense," Lin An replied softly. "They scan a crate, feel a dense cluster of Qi, and assume it is valuable. They ignore the physical composition of the material. A clever forgery can easily fool a mid-stage Qi Condensation appraiser if it emits the right aura."
"Exactly," Lord Lin smiled, a genuine, professional spark lighting up his eyes. "And that is where fifty years of handling the physical world gives a mortal the absolute advantage."
After an hour of waiting, they finally stepped through the heavy oak doors.
The interior was a large, brightly lit hall. Behind a long, iron-reinforced counter sat half a dozen Guild administrators. They wore crisp grey uniforms and possessed the tired, cynical expressions of bureaucrats who had seen every scam in the province. Behind them stood fully armored guards radiating the heavy, oppressive auras of late-stage Qi Condensation.
"Next," a middle-aged administrator barked, not bothering to look up from his ledger.
Lord Lin stepped up to the counter. Lin An remained exactly one pace behind him, his hands resting naturally at his sides.
"Name and purpose," the administrator stated, dipping a quill into a pot of black ink.
"Liu Shen," Lord Lin provided his alias smoothly. "And this is my hired guard, A-San. I am responding to the Iron Ledger posting for independent material appraisers."
The administrator finally looked up. He took in Lord Lin's burgundy robes, his calm demeanor, and the distinct lack of a cultivator's aura.
"You are a mortal," the administrator noted, his tone flat but not immediately dismissive. "The outer warehouses process tons of low-tier spiritual materials daily. It is grueling work. Why should the Guild hire a mortal over a cultivator who can use Qi to scan a crate in seconds?"
Lord Lin did not argue. He simply smiled politely and reached into his robes, pulling out a pair of thin, supple leather gloves and a small leather roll containing an array of mundane tools: a magnifying loupe, a fine steel file, a small brass balancing scale, and three tiny glass vials containing different colored liquids.
"Because, honorable administrator, a cultivator looks at the soul of an object, while a merchant looks at its bones," Lord Lin answered calmly. "If you have a test prepared, I would be happy to demonstrate."
The administrator's eyebrows rose slightly. He gestured to a guard behind him. The guard stepped forward and unceremoniously dumped a heavy, coarse burlap sack onto the counter. The sound of dense rocks clattering against the wood echoed in the hall.
"Sort it," the administrator challenged, crossing his arms. "You have five minutes. Identify the valuable ore, separate the dross, and tell me if there is anything unusual in the batch."
Lord Lin did not rush. He carefully slipped the leather gloves onto his hands. He opened the sack and poured the contents onto the counter. It was a chaotic mix of jagged rocks, smooth river stones, and dull, rust-colored chunks of earth. To the untrained eye, it was just gravel.
He picked up a dark, reddish stone. He didn't close his eyes to feel its energy. He simply brought it close to the lantern light, examining the grain. He took the fine steel file and gave the stone a single, firm scrape. Beneath the dull exterior, a bright, crimson streak appeared.
"Low-grade Blood-Iron," Lord Lin declared, placing it on the left side of the counter. "Common, but useful for forging foundational weapons. However, the oxidation on the crust indicates it was mined from a damp environment, likely a swamp vein. It will require a longer smelting process to remove the moisture impurities. Value: standard market rate minus ten percent for refining costs."
The administrator blinked, slightly surprised by the depth of the immediate analysis.
Lord Lin continued. He sorted through the pile with the rhythmic, mechanical efficiency of a master jeweler. He identified chunks of Azure Copper, standard iron ore, and tossed useless pieces of slate and quartz into a discard pile on the right.
Within three minutes, the pile was nearly sorted. Only one stone remained.
It was roughly the size of a goose egg, perfectly smooth, and radiated a faint, highly appealing milky-white light. Any low-level cultivator would immediately recognize the signature of a Spirit-Jade, a valuable material used for crafting high-tier talismans and arrays.
Lord Lin picked it up. He felt its weight. He rolled it in his gloved palm. He did not look impressed.
He placed the glowing stone on the counter. He took out his magnifying loupe and inspected the surface closely. Then, he uncorked one of the tiny glass vials containing a highly diluted, mundane acidic compound and let a single drop fall onto the glowing surface.
The liquid hissed slightly. A tiny, microscopic layer of the stone's surface bubbled away, revealing dull, common quartz beneath.
"A very clever forgery," Lord Lin stated, wiping the acid away with a cloth. "It is a piece of dense river quartz. Someone hollowed out the center with a fine drill, inserted a fraction of a low-grade Spirit Stone, and sealed it with a thin layer of luminescent moss and resin. It emits a perfect, faint Qi signature that would fool a casual Spiritual Sense scan. But physically, its density is wrong, and the resin reacts to simple acid."
Lord Lin pushed the fake stone toward the administrator.
"If a cultivator scanned this crate, they would register the Qi and approve the batch," Lord Lin concluded softly. "The Guild would pay for Spirit-Jade, and receive a piece of glowing river rock. A mortal appraiser does not trust Qi. A mortal appraiser only trusts weight, friction, and chemistry."
The administrator stared at the fake stone, his expression hardening. The Guild processed thousands of these crates a day. If this forgery had made it into the main auction inventory, it would have been an embarrassing and costly oversight.
He looked back at Lord Lin, the cynical exhaustion in his eyes replaced by a sharp, calculating respect.
"A mortal who cannot sense Qi cannot be tempted to steal it," the administrator muttered to himself, realizing the inherent security benefit of hiring someone like Lord Lin.
The administrator picked up his quill and stamped the ledger with the Guild's seal. He reached beneath the counter and pulled out two heavy, rectangular tokens forged from dark bronze. They were etched with complex, localized tracking arrays.
"Merchant Liu," the administrator said, sliding the tokens across the wood. "You are hired. These are your Bronze Access Passes. They grant you and your guard entry to Outer Warehouse Number Four. Your shift begins at dawn and ends at dusk. You will receive a daily stipend of three low-grade Spirit Stones, payable upon exit."
"Thank you," Lord Lin smiled, picking up the heavy tokens. He handed one to Lin An.
"A warning," the administrator added, his voice dropping to a serious, commanding tone. "Outer Warehouse Four is a restricted zone. The tokens track your location. If you wander into the inner corridors, or if you attempt to leave the warehouse with even a speck of dust that does not belong to you, the array will trigger. The Guild's enforcement elders do not ask questions. They simply incinerate."
"We are professionals," Lord Lin bowed his head respectfully. "We have no interest in wandering."
They left the recruitment office and stepped back out into the bustling streets of the lower tier. Lord Lin let out a small breath of relief, tossing the heavy bronze token in his hand.
"Well played, Father," Lin An murmured as they walked. "You demonstrated value without presenting a threat. The perfect employee."
"Commerce is the same everywhere, An'er," Lord Lin chuckled softly. "Whether they are selling silk or magical glowing rocks, someone still has to count the inventory. Now, we have our way inside."
The following morning, before the artificial runic lights of the lower city had even fully dimmed, they arrived at Outer Warehouse Number Four.
It was a staggering architectural marvel. The warehouse was a massive cavern hollowed out of the canyon's bedrock, supported by pillars of solid iron that were thick as ancient redwood trees. The entrance was a pair of steel doors fifty feet high, guarded by a dozen armored cultivators and flanked by two massive, chained stone-golems.
Lin An and Lord Lin joined the stream of gray-robed workers and independent appraisers filtering through the side entrance. They held their bronze tokens up to a glowing crystal pedestal. The array chimed softly, registering their identities, and the heavy iron turnstile clicked open.
As they stepped inside, the sheer, crushing scale of the Cross-Continent Trade Guild's operation became apparent.
The cavern stretched on for over a mile. It was filled with literal mountains of wooden crates, iron chests, and burlap sacks. The air was thick with a chaotic, overwhelming cocktail of raw spiritual energy, the smell of oxidized metal, and the dust of crushed herbs. Thousands of workers were scurrying around like ants, moving cargo under the watchful eyes of elevated overseer platforms.
Lord Lin was directed by an overseer to a station near the western wall, where a massive pile of raw, unrefined Azure Copper ore was waiting to be sorted and graded. He immediately set to work, pulling out his tools and organizing his station with practiced efficiency.
Lin An stood exactly three paces behind him, his arms crossed, adopting the perfect posture of a bored, silent bodyguard.
He pulled the brim of his bamboo hat down. He did not look around the room with his physical eyes. Doing so would alert the overseers that he was casing the joint.
Instead, Lin An closed his eyes and breathed out.
He engaged his ethereal meridians, tapping into the silent, invisible void that existed parallel to the physical space of the warehouse. He bypassed the overwhelming, chaotic noise of the raw ores and focused entirely on the structural flow of energy within the cavern.
The abyss opened its eyes.
Instantly, the layout of the warehouse materialized in his mind like a detailed, glowing blueprint. He could 'see' the thick lines of defensive True Qi running through the walls. He identified the locations of the hidden mid-stage Foundation Establishment guards stationed in the catwalks above. He noted the precise scanning frequencies of the runic arrays near the inner doors leading to the higher-tier vaults.
He wasn't searching for something to steal. Not yet. He was doing what predators do best when entering a new territory.
He was mapping the blind spots. He was finding the shadows where the light of the Guild did not reach.
The daily routine had begun. Lord Lin sorted the wealth of the world, and the phantom standing behind him quietly memorized the architecture of the vault.