Arin lay curled in the damp fissure beneath the rock overhang, the adrenaline from the siphoning and the near-capture finally receding. He was safe from the immediate sweep, but his relief was shattered by a new, violent sensation: a colossal, paralysing ache, the divine fragment's insatiable demand ripping through him.
It was not the simple need for food, but a deep, spiritual emptiness that resonated with the gnawing ache of the Divinity Mark. The Mark had consumed the volatile energy from the seal and, in doing so, had violently accelerated his mortal body's clock. His Blood-Engraved Stage was now fully active, making his body a far more efficient, powerful machine but one that demanded immediate, dense fuel. His body's metabolism was burning through his mortal reserves at a terrifying rate, trying to keep pace with the divine fragment it hosted. He needed more than water and air; he needed raw energy, and he needed it now, or his own mortal core would begin to cannibalise itself to sustain the Mark.
This was the Law of Balance in action. I took forbidden power without the mortal foundation to sustain it, Arin realised, clutching his empty stomach.
He forced a connection to the goddess, pushing his mind past the pain threshold of the crescent scar.
'You told me to defy the system. I did. Now, my body is eating itself. What was the true cost of that flicker?'
The dark eclipse of the inner realm manifested instantly. Seliora appeared, not regal, but agitated, her fragmented form flickering like a candle in a gale.
"Silence, Arin. Do not mistake caution for fear. You performed well. You fused the fragment and bypassed the need for years of mortal cultivation," she stated, her voice sharp with a mixture of pride and urgency. "But that power was ancient, chaotic. You didn't just draw energy; you resonated against the Heaven's Gate Seal."
'The flicker. What did it mean?'
Seliora's translucent eyes, filled with the endless sorrow of the moon, locked onto his. "It meant the Celestial Tribunal's primary monitoring array, far above in the Celestial Realm, registered a spike of my unique Lunari signature at this location. They did not see the boy, Arin. They saw the location of the Banished One's essence. They are too slow to descend directly, but their eyes are now fixed here. The hunt is no longer local; it is sanctioned by the gods."
Kaelor Vynn was a nuisance; Kaelen Dravos was a major threat. But the Celestial Tribunal? That was doom.
'I am dying of hunger. I cannot fight the Tribunal's watchdogs if I collapse first. I need food. Spiritual sustenance. Tell me where to find it.'
Seliora softened, the maternal fragment of her consciousness emerging momentarily. "The cost of defying fate is always hunger, little anchor. Hold steady. Your mortal anchor is your resilience. Listen to the stone. The disciples of Duskwind are arrogant. They use formation wards to block threats, but ignore the needs of their forgotten guards."
She projected a faint, internal map into his mind a crude image of the mountainside slightly below the seal. "Three decades ago, the formations were manually overseen. The elder guards left a cache of low-grade spiritual supplements and rations in a hollowed-out log near the base of the eastern spire. They never retrieved it when the automatic wards were installed. The Qi is thin, but it is enough to stabilise your Blood-Engraved Stage for a few days."
The vision faded. Arin was left with the primal hunger and the cold, tactical knowledge of the cache's location. He had to move. The sun was fully up, and he could hear the distinct sound of patrolling disciples returning to secure the perimeter they believed he had passed through.
He risked a look over the overhang. Kaelen Dravos was nowhere in sight, likely reporting his failure, but three junior disciples were moving in a disciplined line, sweeping the ground near the eastern spire.
Now or never.
Using his Blood-Engraved stealth and speed, Arin dropped silently from his fissure. The ground was treacherous, littered with loose shale and sharp stones, but his Blood-Engraved reflexes devoured the terrain. He moved with a speed that stole sound, an absolute ghost. He stuck low, adhering to the shadow lines cast by the rising sun.
The cache location was exactly where Seliora described: a hollow, petrified log nestled in a small alcove of stone, easily overlooked by anyone not searching for a misplaced cache. The patrolling disciples passed within fifteen feet of him, their backs turned as they focused their spiritual senses outward, toward the "Triallands" they believed he had fled into.
Arin slid into the alcove, found the log, and tore away the thick layer of moss sealing the cavity. Inside, wrapped in old, oiled cloth, were three dry rations of compressed spiritual grains and a handful of shrivelled, low-grade Soul Strengthening Berries the kind only used for animals or the lowest tier of disciple.
They were worthless to a Spirit-stage cultivator like Kaelen, but to Arin, they were salvation.
He didn't hesitate. He jammed the spiritual grains into his mouth, chewing rapidly. The effect was immediate and profound. The grains were coarse, but the spiritual energy released was an electric warmth, a welcome trickle that coated the raw, exposed edges of his spiritual sea. He swallowed the Soul Strengthening Berries whole. The divine essence in his blood consumed the low-grade Qi, and the horrible, destabilising hunger receded, not gone, but muted to a tolerable thrum.
He felt the Law of Balance momentarily stabilising the mortal vessel had paid its cost.
He left no trace, re-covering the log with the moss and backing silently out of the alcove just as the patrol began their return sweep. He moved higher, back toward his hidden fissure, the slight increase in his physical vitality an absolute luxury.
Arin Solmere looked down at the vast, sprawling campus of the Duskwind Sect below. They believed he was running away. They believed he was a cursed labourer fleeing into the abyss. They were wrong. He was hiding in the shadow of the gods, gathering strength, ready to move when they least expected it.
He needed to stay hidden, continue siphoning, and find a way to make his next move not outward, but inward deep into the sect, where the secrets were unguarded and the resources abundant.