One Blood Guard strode forward, crimson runes flickering across his face. “Ararat, years pass, and you remain as hot-blooded as ever. Today’s affair is none of your concern. Stand aside!”
Ararat snorted. Sword light wove into a lattice around him. “A lackey from the Celestial Palace thinks to order me? Dream on!”
The Blood Guard did not flinch. Sword energy raked his chestplate, leaving only a faint chalk line. “Your blade is still soft.”
Ararat’s features tightened. The enemy’s defense proved monstrously stronger than rumor had dared predict. Black mist swirling about him, Dioz drifted to the front line. “Mr. Goizeder, a wise man submits to circumstances. Jared is the nemesis of Malevolent Path Hall. Today must die!”
“And I’m here too!” Lunaria screeched, violet gaze blazing. “I’ll rip his eyes out myself!”
Kishor swaggered forward, one arm slung around Alice, laughter booming.
“A cluster of bruised gourds dares yap before me? One whisper from Whispers Tower and every dirty secret you own hits daylight.”
Alice stepped ahead, showing a device. “Celestial Palace’s Sixth Hall allies with demons. The Malevolent Path Hall collects the cultivator’s divine soul. Mr. Lester, your son assaulted many women!”
Lester’s face darkened. “Nonsense!”
“Whether it‘s nonsense, we’ll spread the news,” Alice replied, voice cool as morning frost. “Withdraw your troops, and we’ll wipe the slate clean!”
The Blood Guard snorted, “Whispers Tower? Nothing more than a nest of gossip-mongering rats. Speak one word, and I will cut you down where you stand!”
“Then come try me!”
At that, Kishor’s men fanned out behind him. They were few, but every breath they drew felt honed and lethal, as if each man were a blade kept forever on a whetstone.
Auras collided invisibly in the dusk, bows drawn without arrows, swords half-raised, one heartbeat from an explosion of carnage.
From deep inside the compound, Jared’s voice rolled out. “Enough posturing!”
He stepped through the gate at an unhurried pace.
Corin, Flaxseed, Lyra, and a lean line of Sword Sect disciples formed up at his back. They numbered barely a few dozen, yet every last one stood tall, faces bright with a fearless, almost reckless pride.
“Lester,” Jared called, eyes locked on, “Hasn’t your only wish been to kill me? Then face me now. We fight one-on-one. Do you dare?”
Lester blinked, then burst into mocking laughter that echoed off tiled roofs. “You? A Wandering Immortal challenging an eighth-level Earthly Immortal? Have you lost your mind?”
“Why wouldn’t I dare?” Jared’s hand closed around the Dragonslayer Sword, the blade humming like some slumbering beast.
“If I fall, my life is yours. If you fall, you and every man leave Swordmaster City tonight and never return.”
“Jared, no!” Corin‘s protest cracked through the air before could stop himself. “Mr. Chance, think this through!” Ararat added, urgency tugging hard at every syllable.
Jared waved them off, gaze never shifting from the enemy. Resolve burned in his eyes like coals that had waited years for wind. “This feud is between and me. It ends today…”
A thin, vicious smile curled beneath Lester’s helm. He had waited for this moment. “Agreed! But if anyone dares interfere, I will show no mercy!”
Slow, deliberate steps carried Lester forward. Each footfall burst with spiritual energy, punching craters into the stone floor that cracked outward like spiderwebs.
With a contemptuous flick of his wrist, Lester leveled his long blade. “Kid, falling beneath my sword is the greatest honor you’ll ever know.”
A storm of sword energy tore open the ground between them, carving a trench deep enough to swallow a man whole.
Jared drew one long breath. Inside him, the Power of Three roared awake. Three differently colored streams raced through every meridian. He understood this fight would decide not only his life but the fate of the entire Sword Sect.
“Enough talk! Let‘s begin!”
Murderous intent flared in Lester’s gaze. He exploded forward, his sword crashing down with mountain-splitting weight. Before the sword even arrived, shockwaves ripped the earth into rolling ridges.
“Perfect!” Jared’s shout was low and fierce as the Dragonslayer Sword flared gold and streaked up to meet the descending steel.
Clank! The ground beneath both men detonated. Shards of rock fountained skyward, spinning in the shrinking space between them.
The impact hurled raw power through Jared’s arms. Numbness spiked from fingertips to the shoulder. He staggered back three steps before steadied himself, blood tracing the corner of his mouth. Lester barked a savage laugh. “Pathetic!”
He continued his victorious pursuit, sword raining down in a relentless gale, intersecting arcs that sealed every avenue of escape.
