That darkness erupted as a single, towering spear of black light, too wide to be an arrow, too sharp to be a storm—racing for Jared and Sylvia with an animal howl.
They saw the beam coming and felt every drop of blood turn cold. A direct hit would not merely wound, it would shatter bones, scatter organs, and leave whatever was left begging for release.
“Ms. Vale, what do we…” Jared began, voice already cracking beneath the roar of onrushing death. “I know!” she cut in, eyes fixed ahead. “Together, now!”
She gave a quick, decisive nod, the way a commander signals retreat or charge when there is no time left for speeches.
“You realize,” Jared said, half-laughing through the terror, “Our timing’s getting scary good. I might be starting to enjoy you. If we live through this, I swear you’ll learn exactly how good that can feel.”
Sylvia rolled her eyes so hard the gesture felt like a slap. Even at the cliff edge, he managed to flirt. She remembered how he’d played the saint earlier, pretending cultivation was all spirit and no flesh. Now, with the grave yawning, he suddenly wished for twin cultivation, for pleasure shared before oblivion.
“Survive first,” she snapped. “Die now, and our souls scatter. Even double cultivation in the afterworld won’t save you.”
Words spent, they struck. Jared’s longsword flashed open like a newborn star, vomiting ribbons of sword energy that sliced the air into glassy shards. Beside him, Sylvia’s fingers blurred through seals until a column of pure celestial force burst from her palms. Boom!
Light, dark, and heaven’s own fire smashed together.
Heaven Gate Mountain lurched as if tectonic plates shifted beneath its roots. The collision hurled both warriors backward. They hit rock hard enough to crater it, coughing blood so bright it looked lit from within.
“Hahaha! Do you finally grasp my power?” Winston’s laughter pealed across the ravaged summit. “Now watch yourselves vanish for good!”
He formed a fresh seal, each gesture slower, crueler, the promise of execution written in his fingertips.
Blood still dripped from Jared’s chin when he forced himself upright.
Bones ground against one another, yet his gaze never wavered.
If I quit now, she dies with me. Not happening…
“Ms. Vale, go, now! I’ll hold him. Whatever happens, I won’t die today!”
“Jared, forget it! I leave, he obliterates you. We finish this together.”
“Listen to me,” Jared growled, sword rising like a broken mast in a hurricane. “I’ve got insurance you don’t know about. Someone far bigger than him has my back, so move!”
Jared tasted copper on his tongue yet kept his spine straight. Deep down, he understood he would not die here; somewhere in the unseen distance, Mr. Sanders lingered, and that man would never allow his protégé to be butchered.
Sylvia met the unwavering fire in Jared’s eyes and realized he was not bluffing in the slightest.
A single heartbeat of hesitation passed, then she gave a faint, solemn nod that made her silver hair tremble at her shoulders.
“Mr. Chance, please, stay alive,” she whispered, every syllable trembling with urgency.
With those parting words, Sylvia spun on her heel, cloak snapping behind her as she dashed toward the jagged mouth of Death Gorge.
“Leaving? Not a chance!” Winston growled, his voice echoing like grinding stone. “Both of you die today, and no one will weep for the corpses.”
He flashed a ruthless hand seal, and a column of blinding gold light erupted from his palms, racing after Sylvia like a divine spear.
Jared lunged forward, long sword raised. Blazing sword energy burst out, meeting the golden beam in mid-air.
Boom! Power slammed against power. The canyon walls groaned, and shards of black rock cascaded like lethal rain.
The shock wave hurled Jared backward. He skidded across stone, coughing a spray of blood that shone dark against the dust.
“Mr. Chance!” Sylvia cried, skidding to a halt, desperation cracking her voice.
“Go!” Jared roared, forcing himself to one knee. “Don’t slow me down, run!”
Her eyes glistened with anguish, but she understood the cruel logic. Staying would only chain him.
“I’ll come back for you. I swear it,” she vowed, voice low yet steadier than steel. Then, she vanished into the labyrinthine shadows of Death Gorge, her silhouette swallowed by swirling dust.
Winston watched her disappear and merely sneered; the real prize, the boy with the dragon blood, stood right here.
“No savior left, whelp,” he said, lips curling. “Your grave is already dug…” Again, his hands wove that merciless sigil, birthing another torrent of searing gold that streaked straight for Jared’s heart.
Panic and cold calculation flashed across Jared’s face.
