Carson stood alone in the center of his new dealership. The adrenaline didn't rush; his pulse didn't even quicken. To a Celestial Sovereign, this wasn't a victory—it was just cleaning a messy room.
"Sir," Aura's voice hummed in his ear. "Uncle Silas has just received notice of his bankruptcy. He is currently attempting to flee the city."
"Let him run," Carson said. "I want him to feel the 'Ten-Unit Hunger' for a few days before I take his breath. Now, prepare the Cloud-Reach Gardens. I want to start cultivating the 11th strand tonight."
He looked out at the city. The Zenith Spire was tall, but from where he stood now, it looked like a toothpick.
"Master Hobs was right," Carson whispered, looking at the violet spark on his finger. "The world is a whetstone. And I am finally sharp."