As night descended, Kael found refuge beneath a rocky overhang, its hollow offering shelter from the gale.
He ignited a small Silver Lotus Flame, shielding it with a curved stone, its silver-violet light radiating pure, calming warmth without smoke or scent, a manifestation of his purified Dao that defied the mountains' harshness.
Kael removed his outer robe, exposing the deep gash on his ribs where the Silverhorned Wolf's claws had nearly pierced his lung.
He pressed a low-grade healing pellet into the wound, biting down as its searing qi cauterized the torn flesh, a wave of numbness spreading through his side.
The pellet would hold for another day, stabilizing his meridians, but his spiritual reserves were stretched thin, each battle a test of his endurance. His silver eyes stared into the Lotus Flame, its flicker reflecting the turmoil within his dantian.
