Afterward, Igaris returned to his residence and allowed himself a rare moment of rest. His body, still heavy from his previous exertions, eased into a calm state as he drew in slow, measured breaths. The quiet of the room brought peace, and the spiritual energies within his inner world circulated on their own, aiding his recovery.
Nearby, Founder Jian had chosen a place just beyond the main chamber. There, in a quiet corner of the residence, he sat in deep meditation, not only restoring his vitality but also keeping silent watch over his new master. To him, this role was no burden. Having carried the weight of the sect's legacy for centuries, this duty felt lighter, purer in purpose.
It was not about submission. It was about worthiness.
Jian Longchen had seen it. The power sleeping within Igaris was not ordinary. No mere genius or chosen one, but something greater, something fate itself whispered about.
