Beyond the threshold spread a courtyard house wide enough to swallow echoes. At its heart stood an enormous copper bell, ribs etched with tight, interlocking runes, the legendary Roaring Storm Bell, keeper of the church’s sanctity. Yet the runes were guttered, their glow no brighter than ash after rain.
Out of the main hall strode Infinides, snow-white hair flowing, youthful eyes burning like twin lanterns. A hush of Earthly Immortal Realm Level Nine aura rode his shoulders, bending the air in quiet deference.
“Jared, you have arrived…” Infinides said, smile widening as though this reunion were the final piece of a patient design. “I have been waiting quite some time.”
Of course, Infinides knew Jared would never linger forever on level five, not once the turmoil there had settled.
“Abbot Infinides, how could you be certain I would brave level six?” Jared asked, offering a respectful clasp of fists.
“Celestial Palace keeps its Sixth Hall here,” Infinides replied, voice as calm as still water. “You were destined to come. The farther you climb. the richer the resources, and your cultivation craves them…”
“Besides, do you not itch to uncover your father’s name? Until you one day stand upon the very summit of the celestial realm, the secrets of his past, and of that ancient celestial war, will remain sealed.”
Few understood Jared better than Infinides, knew the young man would never settle for the horizon when there were stars beyond it. Jared managed a rueful grin. “You read me all too well, Abbot Infinides…”
“Well, of course!” Infinides chuckled, the sound bouncing off the courtyard walls. “Had I not, would I ever have promised Lina to you?”
“Still, mind yourself. Spend less time chasing skirts. Let another woman siphon off your positive energy…” He finished with a playful glare that felt half blessing, half warning. Color flooded Jared’s cheeks; for once, found no answer.
“Hahaha!” Flaxseed roared, slapping his knee. “The lad forever scolds me for lechery, yet the girls he’s entertained would fill a caravan, always dashing off to another tryst, and always with apprentices barely fledged!”
He leaned closer, stage-whispering, “I, at least, keep company with widows my own vintage, never picky about the menu…”
“Mr. Flaxseed, enough!” Jared blurted, face scarlet to the ears.
Infinides and Flaxseed burst into hearty laughter, their mirth rolling across the courtyard like distant thunder.
Still grinning, Flaxseed pointed a calloused thumb toward Roaring Storm Bell. “Abbot Infinides, your bell looks off!”
Infinides followed the gesture. His smile faded into a sober line. “Your eye misses nothing, Mr. Flaxseed. Three days ago, someone stole the bell outright.”
Jared and Flaxseed inhaled sharply, the notion of that sacred relic in a thief’s grasp striking like cold steel between the ribs.
The bell was the church’s guardian artifact, forged to shatter curses and banish black magic. Its absence felt as dire as walls torn from a fortress in the dead of night.
Infinides motioned them toward the main hall. Servants appeared with spirit tea, and, seated as honored guests, Jared braced himself for the tale of how a bell the size of a cottage could vanish without a trace.
Infinides lifted the porcelain cup to his lips. Steam drifted over the white of his beard before set the cup down with a muted click.
“Roaring Storm Mountain looks as ordinary as any other peak,” began, his voice slow and weighty. “Yet the place is, in truth, sealing some things… Buried deep inside its belly are 100 thousand demonic souls…”
“Centuries ago, those demonic souls ravaged the world until the elders of Roaring Storm Church sealed them here. Roaring Storm Bell is the linchpin. Every hundred years, it’s peal, heavy with thunder-type spiritual energy, must reinforce the seal so not a single demonic soul can slip free.”
Jared and Flaxseed traded a glance. Both men found the same stunned question staring back at them, 100 thousand demonic souls, and only a bell stood between peace and catastrophe. If every last spirit broke loose, the entire level six would drown in fire and screams.
“Do you have any clue who stole the bell, Abbot Infinides? Anything at all?” Jared asked, frowning, every muscle coiled for an answer already feared. Infinides shook his head. Lines of worry sharpened the corners of his eyes.
“Three nights ago, the disciples on watch heard wind, but not any wind forged by nature. It hissed like something alive… Then Roaring Storm Bell shuddered, glowed. By the time they reached the bell pagoda, the entire bell was gone…”
“Only a trail of strange footprints remained, paw-prints resembling a demon beast and tainted with demonic aura. We followed every track until dawn. They led nowhere…”
