That night at the orchard staging post, Hajin tightened the final refusal-mesh strip across his right forearm, then struck its fasteners twice with a flat mallet.
The temporary brace covered his old resonance pathways without drawing a single speck of ambient mana from his core.
Narrow ribs curved beneath his wrist so any sudden shock redirected straight into three dispersal plates resting against his elbow and shoulder.
A single severe breaker backlash would shatter the entire assembly, but the fractures would follow pre-cut seams rather than tearing freshly rebuilt pathways.
While setting the bracer catches, he opened the system interface and casually skimmed the locked relic tabs out of lingering habit.
Dozens of high-tier items sat behind red seal icons that his current operational authority could not yet clear.
[ Stream credits: 93,435 ]
"Old habit, plenty of credits, and nothing in that catalogue I actually need before the breach," he muttered, closing the floating pane.
