Night draped Stonehold City in an uneasy silence. Torchlight flickered on every corner as guards stormed through the streets in groups of ten. Doors were kicked open. Civilians questioned. Inns ransacked. No rest. No mercy.
But beneath their feet, a different silence stirred—one far older, and far more dangerous.
In the sewers below the Temple District, Adrian moved through the darkness like mist itself.
He was cloaked in his usual disguise—his Qi hidden beneath the Veil of a Hundred Shadows—but tonight, that wasn't enough. He carried with him a small wooden box carved with ancient sigils from the Mistshroud vault. Inside it, a decayed talisman pulsed with twisted, unstable spiritual energy.
It was bait.
Not for the guards. Not for Richard.
For the demonic cultivators.
