She subconsciously tugged collar higher, a blush of embarrassment tinting already flushed cheeks. Every reckless moment had shared with Jared then echoed through body as a lingering, sweet soreness that pulsed at waist.
Jared, sensing discomfort, brushed a loose strand from forehead. “Once I’m done with the affairs at Darkwind Gorge, I’ll come straight back. Rest here, clear your mind. When I return, I’ll ease every knot left by our enthusiasm.”
Crimson bloomed across Lyra’s cheeks, the color racing to the tips of ears. She knew lack of cultivation would only burden them, so nodded despite the sting in eyes.
“Please, both of you, return safely!”
Jared ruffled hair with a soft smile. The moment turned away, affection in his gaze froze into razor-sharp determination.
Flaxseed waited in the courtyard, grinning. “Come on… Every breath we give those old ghosts of Malevolent Path Hall is one breath too many.”
The two exchanged a look. Spiritual energy flared around them, and Sky Walk carried their bodies upward, streaking like twin comets toward Darkwind Gorge, situated on the border of level five.
From the corridor, Lyra watched until the twin streaks vanished into the clouds. A hand pressed to burning cheek, whispered over and over, “Return safe…”
***
Darkwind Gorge sprawled along the outer rim of level five, a wasteland choked year-round by dark green miasma, its depths crawling with demon beasts few cultivators dared disturb. Riding Sky Walk at full tilt, Jared and Flaxseed crossed towns and forests in a blur.
Three days later, they hovered over the outskirts of Darkwind Gorge, wind howling In their ears. Even before Jared crossed the invisible threshold of the range, the air thickened with a stench so vile it felt alive.
Blood, old, sticky, and plentiful, mingled with the sour reek of rotting meat and the metallic tang of bruised vegetation. Together, they brewed a nauseating aura that seemed to claw down his throat and curdle in his gut.
A gauzy mist, smoky gray shot through with sluggish threads of black, hung motionless between the trees. Inside that mist writhed a faint, icy demonic energy, the unique aura every cultivator of Malevolent Path Hall carried like a brand.
Flaxseed’s brows knitted. With a flick of his fingers, traced a Cleaning Spell, pale-gold charms blossomed in his palms, then spread into a softly humming dome that wrapped both of them and locked the demonic energy outside.
“Well, blast it,” Flaxseed muttered, his grin tight with worry. “This place is twice as wicked as last time. Looks like Dioz has been busy, probably cooking up something real nasty.”
Jared’s gaze turned blade-cold. His right hand twitched, and his Dragonslayer Sword answered with a bright, ringing hum. The sword slipped from its sheath by its own will and hovered at his side, scales of golden light rippling along the steel like a dragon.
“The fouler the tricks, the more frightened they are,” Jared said, voice level yet iron-hard.
“Mr. Flaxseed, we split up. Take the left ravine. I’ll comb the right-hand forest. Meet back here in an hour,” Jared uttered resolutely.
“All right!”
Flaxseed whipped three saffron charms from his sleeve. Each bore a labyrinth of vermilion runes that glimmered like spiritual light.
He tossed them skyward, chanting under his breath. The charms ignited into yellow streaks that tore into the miasma, trailing comet-tails of light. Flaxseed darted after them, his silhouette swallowed almost at once by the mist.
Jared inhaled slowly. Deep inside, his Power of Dragons stirred, lustrous golden scales spread from his wrists to his elbows, and a faint halo pushed the toxic vapor one meter from his skin.
