Necro's steps carried him through the Sect's outer courtyards, past the ringing of wooden training posts and the low hum of spirit formations, his eyes calm as the morning light washed over the mountain terraces.
The Lotus Flow Step felt alive within him, each movement drawing the world's rhythm into his bones, each breath syncing the Dao principles he had grasped with the quiet beat of his heart.
But the Lotus was not satisfied.
The green glow within his dantian, once a single petal, now two, pulsed in quiet hunger, demanding growth. Demanding evolution.
Necro found himself on the terrace overlooking the valley again, the wind cool against his face, carrying the scent of pine and mist rising from the river below. He sat, cross-legged, the jade token at his waist tapping softly against the stone with each breath, the gentle chime syncing with the pulse of qi inside him.
