Time to Kill [Bonus]

The next morning, the old man stood at the gate. He handed Quinlan a simple parchment.

It wasn't a proper scroll, nor a map of the surrounding lands. On it, just a simple name could be read. A place.

A ravine not far from here that was once a trade route, now a den of outlaws.

Cultivators who had turned their backs on sect and city alike.

Murderers. Vagabonds. Bandits.

"You'll need one hundred lìng," the old man said. "Don't come back until you collect that amount."

Quinlan raised a brow.

"Why?"

"To temper your cultivation further," the old man replied. "Lìng is wealth. Power. Wild Qi condensed, made solid. Each lìng is worth days of stillness, quietly gathering Qi from the air. You don't have that time, do you? So you must earn the right to skip ahead."