“Master, are you all right?!” Jared knelt beside Zevon, fingers glowing faintly as he examined the elder’s injuries.
Zevon shook his head, a wan smile tucked beneath the blood at the corner of his mouth. “I will live, Mr. Chance. But the Soul Devourer fled…”
“He fled wounded,” Jared replied, voice steady but low. “Given the gash you carved into him, he won’t return for a while. What matters now is regaining our strength as quickly as possible.”
He rose and turned to Neville. “Mr. Contreras, we need the use of your sect grounds, and disciples to guard us while we recover.”
Neville inclined his head, the lined planes of his face hard with resolve. “Mr. Chance, so long as the Soul Devourer stays away, my disciples will stand against anything level nine, or anyone else, dares to send.”
Neville let out a long, measured breath. “All right.”
Jared answered in kind, then strode to the Nethergate Sect’s forbidden grounds. With a sweep of his sleeve, he took the Pentacarna Tower out.
Without hesitation, Jared stepped through the yawning gate. Sylvia’s violet robe fluttered after him. Neville followed with soldierly economy, and, finally, Zevon slipped inside, curiosity blazing.
Within these walls, the tower bent the fabric of existence itself.
What felt like a single breath beyond its door could stretch into seasons beneath its vaulted ceilings, perfect for warriors desperate to reclaim their strength before the next battle trumpet sounded.
Waves of silver mist rolled across the inner corridors, each ripple a visible pulse of dilated time. Zevon’s eyes widened; the reflection of that undulating current made his pupils shimmer like twin mercury pools.
“Mr. Chance…” he whispered, awe edging every syllable, “Is this the Pentacarna Tower?”
“It is,” Jared replied, arching a brow. “You recognize it? Most cultivators wouldn’t.”
Zevon’s mouth curved into a thin, knowing smile. “Recognize it? I can recite its very birth.”
Jared leaned closer, the tower’s shifting light dancing across his features. “Then, sir, please, tell us everything…”
“Long before recorded scripture,” Zevon began, his voice echoing against the bronze pillars, “In the distant Primordial Era, humans, beasts, and demons roamed the same sky. Their endless wars cracked the world, tilting the Three Realms toward ruin…”
“To restore balance, three beings, each born of destiny’s purest breath, offered their lives. One was the Human Ancestor. One, the mighty Beast Overlord. The last, the Demon Saint Emperor. Each poured every drop of cultivation, every insight into the Heavenly Law, into a sky-piercing monument…”
“First came the Pentacarna Tower, forged when the Demon Saint Emperor used his own spine as the central beam and braided it with the Time Law. Inside… One hundred years can pass while outside a single year drifts by.”
“Second, the Beast-Subduing Tower, this one anchored by the Beast Overlord’s natal core and woven with spatial energy. Its chambers fold into labyrinths, opening portals, taming rampaging titans, even erecting shields that no siege can breach…”
“Third rose the Immortal-Sealing Tower, birthed from the Human Ancestor’s perfected law and tempered with raw elemental power. It was never meant to shackle the virtuous. Instead, it imprisons fallen immortals, those who chased power until their halos blackened into evil…”
“That tower purifies chaotic energy, dissolves stray attacks, and returns refined Origin Power to the land. Separate yet aligned, the three towers chained the wild torrents of time, space, and energy. Demons now languish in the current of hours, beasts wander lost within shifting voids, and corrupted immortals slumber beneath silence itself.”
“At last, the tempest of battle quieted. A hush rolled across the ravaged sky, and for one precious heartbeat, the three realms seemed to inhale the same, unbroken breath…”
“Long-kept lore spoke of a day when three living towers, each a miracle wrought from the might of humankind, demons, and beasts, would clasp together once more… When that union came, so the story swore, the Tri-Realm Anchor Tower would rise, a sentient colossus whose will alone could steady creation itself…”
“If my guess is right, your Pentacarna Tower can bend the very clock—one year outside, an entire century inside, yes?”
“Exactly.” Jared’s eyes flew open, shock rippling across his face like lightning over still water.
Until this moment, he had never imagined the tower’s birth to be so otherworldly. Hearing the name Beast-Subduing Tower sent a stab of urgency through him.
Cyanna and Coall were still imprisoned there, and the dragon crystal Jared had taken from Cyanna now pulsed quietly inside his own chest. Even more staggering, each of the three towers had once been a supreme cultivator, their souls refined into everlasting stone and steel.
So, the races were allies once, and only later tore each other apart…
