Before Aukon could finish his sentence, Cassius had already moved. He didn’t argue — he simply acted.
With a faint sway, the old Daoist appeared beside Logan. His thin hand pressed gently against Logan’s back, and a stream of pure, serene azure energy flowed into Logan’s nearly lifeless body like a spring after drought.
This spiritual energy, though of the same Taoist lineage as Logan’s mystical True Energy, felt older — deeper, more refined. It repaired his wounds with astonishing precision and nourished his fading essence like sunlight melting frost.
“Focus your mind,” Cassius said quietly. “I’ll help you recover.”
A wave of warmth surged through Logan’s limbs and bones. The tearing pain in his soul and the searing frost in his chest began to fade, replaced by a deep, steady calm. The exhaustion from endless battle vanished in moments, and his depleted true energy rapidly returned — seventy percent restored within a few breaths.
Logan’s eyes widened. The depth of Cassius’s cultivation was beyond comprehension.
“Thank you, senior,” he said sincerely, his voice rough but resolute.
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