The days passed, counted one by one, between the dark red rock walls of Blackstone Canyon.
The night of November 29, Yulan Calendar year 9992.
The night was as deep as spilled ink, with neither stars nor moon in sight. Only the wind, whose source lay somewhere unknown in the canyon's depths, passed through gaps in the jagged, grotesque rocks, sometimes sobbing, sometimes shrieking, never ceasing.
Loa sat cross-legged at the edge of a cliff on one side of the canyon, a thousand-foot abyss beneath him and the opposite cliff face rising like the spine of a giant beast. His eyes were closed. He was not merely cultivating Battle-qi, but also "listening" deeply to the wind, feeling it.
He had been here for some time, yet all traces of the Earth Vein Lizards seemed to have evaporated. Entrances to mine tunnels, left over from who knew what year or month, dotted the canyon floor, deep and dark. He had explored several shallow caves, finding nothing but scattered iron ore of ordinary quality and damp rock walls. Farther down, the darkness was impenetrably thick and the auras mingled. He had not ventured deeper rashly.
The search had reached a stalemate, leaving him more time to cultivate instead. Blackstone Canyon was like a natural wind tunnel, its air currents particularly complex and changeable at higher elevations. There were silent "wall-hugging winds" that slid along the cliffs, "updrafts" that surged from the canyon floor with a faint rumble, powerful "crosswinds" that swept through open spaces, and "eddying winds" that spun behind rocks, tangling endlessly. Loa had discovered this while climbing high to survey the whole canyon, and immediately decided to come here to cultivate. He could both overlook the interior of Blackstone Canyon and deepen his understanding of wind.
At first, he had