The Osborn compound no longer felt the same. Wealth flowed in steadier streams from trade expansions, which John had pushed forward, and qi pulsed thick and vibrant through every courtyard, every hall, and every chamber.
Disciples who once struggled now stood taller; elders carried sharper auras. It was as if the clan itself had been reborn.
When the two months closed, John Osborn visited the east wing to see for himself. The six stood together, blades and fists still humming from their morning drills. His eyes swept over them, and his brows lifted.
"What speed…?" John murmured, almost to himself. "Two months, and every one of you has risen as though years had passed."
