And deeper within the sect, where the structures grew more refined and the presence of stronger individuals could be faintly felt, he slowed.
Careful, and measured.
Its form thinned further, almost disappearing completely as it lingered within the shadow of a tall pillar, just outside another hall.
Waiting.
Night settled fully over the Clear Water Sect, and the calm it carried during the day shifted into something quieter, tighter, as lanterns were lit along the stone paths, their soft golden light reflecting across the still ponds while the rest of the sect slowly dimmed into silence.
Most of the disciples had already returned to their quarters.
Doors closed.
Voices lowered.
Only the night watch remained.
Nyxveil moved.
He slid along the edge of a tiled roof, its form stretched thin across the darkness between beams, barely more than a stain of shadow clinging to the structure, its presence so faint that even the flickering lanternlight failed to catch it.
