Purple clouds swirled majestically above White City, casting an otherworldly glow across the landscape. I gazed skyward, knowing well what this celestial phenomenon signaled—the legendary thousand-year divine medicine was finally emerging.
The streets below teemed with excitement. Common folk and powerful cultivators alike crowded every available space, all eyes turned toward the ethereal display above. This wasn't just any treasure; this was the kind of opportunity that appeared once in a millennium.
"Eamon," I said, turning to my assistant who was carefully arranging my collection of rare herbs, "guard these with your life while I'm gone. If anyone but me tries to access them, you know what to do."
Eamon nodded solemnly. "Yes, Master Knight. I won't fail you."
Conrad Thornton stood at the doorway, his face etched with worry. The injuries from our recent altercation had mostly healed, but concern still clouded his eyes.
