Within the safe zone of the Blazefire Secret Realm, after several days of rest, Paxton Riftclaw, Gavin, Yvette, and the others had recovered from most of their injuries. In fact, misfortune had turned into a blessing; nurtured by the secret realm’s pure fire spirit energy, their cultivation had all advanced to varying degrees.
Clara Cloudridge had fully recovered as well. There were even faint signs that her Sky Scorching Sword Art was on the verge of a breakthrough. Yet her heart remained unsettled. Worry for her sect weighed heavily on her mind, and she found herself unable to sit still, repeatedly glancing toward the entrance of the secret realm.
Not far away, Reiner Asher sat cross-legged atop the Flame Crystal Mountain. His aura was deep and restrained, as though he were quietly contemplating something. Still, between his brows lingered a trace of faint, unspoken melancholy.
Suddenly, the light barrier at the entrance rippled violently. A figure in azure robes drifted in, carrying a massive body that was barely clinging to life.
“Sir!”
“Sir Chance!”
The moment they saw Jared return, everyone rose to greet him. But when Paxton’s eyes fell upon the figure in Jared’s grasp—Garth Thornscale, both arms severed, battered and utterly miserable—his pupils contracted. In an instant, searing hatred and uncontrollable emotion surged through his gaze.
“Garth, you traitor!” Paxton strode forward, his silver pupils locked onto the man responsible for the fall of the Myriad Beast Sect and the deaths of countless fellow disciples. Unrestrained demonic power surged from his body, rippling violently through the air.
Jared casually tossed Garth to the ground like trash.
Garth struggled to lift his head. When he met the killing intent blazing in Paxton’s eyes, then caught sight of the former comrades around him, now staring at him with naked hatred, boundless terror finally swallowed his heart.
Sect Master of the Melded Beastkin Sacred Sect. Grand ambitions. Lofty dreams. Before death, all of that was nothing more than a cruel joke.
“Mr. Riftclaw! Mercy! Please, mercy!” Garth writhed on the ground, trying and struggling to bow.
His voice was hoarse and shrill as he begged, “I was wrong! I lost myself! I was deceived by the Demon Sect! Please, sir, remember that I once bled for the Myriad Beast Sect, that I rendered meritorious service! Spare this wretched life of mine! I’ll give up everything I know! I’ll lead the Melded Beastkins back into submission! I’ll serve you like a beast of burden, anything!”
“Silence!”
“Bled for the Myriad Beast Sect? Earned merit? What about the elders and disciples who died at your hands—yours and the Demon Sect’s? Was their blood not blood? Were their sacrifices not sacrifices? Elder Barrington treated you with nothing but trust, and you repaid him by joining the demon scum to surround and kill him!”
“So many of our people believed in you, and you led traitors to butcher them instead. Your blood is cold. Your heart is black. Today, in my name as Sect Master of the Myriad Beast Sect, I cleanse our ranks and avenge the fallen!”
With that, Paxton gave Garth no chance to beg any further. His right hand closed, demonic power surging and condensing into a sharp, silver wolf‘s claw. Carrying grief, rage, and unyielding resolve, it drove forward without hesitation.
Ugh!
A short, strangled cry escaped Garth as the light in his eyes rapidly faded, leaving only emptiness. His massive body finally went limp and collapsed to the ground.
Paxton withdrew the bloodstained claw. His chest rose and fell violently, and a faint glimmer of tears shone in his eyes. Vengeance had been exacted, but the dead would never return. The sorrow in his heart was beyond words.
Slowly, he knelt, facing the direction of the Myriad Beast Sect. His voice was low and steady. “Elder Barrington. Fellow disciples. I, Paxton… have avenged you… May you rest in peace…”
Gavin, Yvette, and the other surviving disciples followed suit, kneeling as well. Facing the same direction, they bowed their heads in silence, tears falling.
After a long while, Paxton rose to his feet. He wiped away the moisture at the corner of his eyes, then cupped his fists solemnly toward Jared. “Sir, your kindness in helping me slay this villain is a debt I, and what remains of the Myriad Beast Sect, will remember for all eternity…”
“Now that the ringleader has been put down, the Melded Beastkin Sacred Sect is leaderless. This is the perfect moment for us to return to our lands, set things right, and restore order. I intend to lead my people back to the Myriad Beast Mountain at once, to rebuild our strength, purge the traitors, and console the fallen spirits…”
Jared nodded. “That is the proper course. The Infinite Soul Demon Sect has only just suffered defeat and should be in no position to interfere anytime soon. You may act without restraint. If the need arises, the Mystic Sky Sword Sect can also lend its aid.”
As he spoke, he relayed Linden’s kind offer.
Paxton offered his thanks once more, then immediately began gathering his clansmen, preparing to leave the secret realm and return to the Myriad Beast Mountain Range.
At that moment, Clara stepped forward. She first bowed gracefully to Jared. “Thank you, sir, for saving my sect, and for bringing back Garth, that traitor…”
Then she turned to her master, Reiner. Resolve and reluctance mingled in her eyes. “Master, the sect has just endured a great calamity. My father has been gravely injured. As a disciple of the Sword Sect, I must return at once to stand with my father and my fellow disciples through this trial. I ask for your permission.”
Reiner slowly opened his eyes and looked at his disciple—strong-willed, yet deeply loyal and compassionate. A flicker of complex emotion crossed his gaze. He remained silent for a moment before finally rising to his feet and stepping toward Clara.
“Clara, you’ve grown up. You have your own path to walk now.” Reiner’s voice no longer carried its usual stern edge. Instead, there was a quiet weariness to it, tempered with warmth. “Return to the Mystic Sky Sword Sect. That is where your roots lie, and where your responsibility is. As for me… I won’t be going back with you.”
Hearing this, Clara froze. “Master…”
Reiner looked toward the depths of the secret realm, the vast, enigmatic world of flame that had grown noticeably calmer since Jared absorbed the core of the Chaotic Origin Flame, yet remained boundless all the same.
After a soft sigh, he said, “The Blazefire Secret Realm exists because of the origin flame fragments. Now that its core has been taken, this place is still a blessed land of fire, but it has lost its true source… For me, staying here no longer holds much meaning.”
He paused, and a sharp, resolute light, one belonging to a sword cultivator, rekindled in his eyes. “I’ve cultivated for tens of thousands of years, yet I’ve been stalled at the Heavenly Immortal Realm, unable to glimpse the path beyond…”
“Perhaps it’s time for me to step out into the wider world. The vast heavens are boundless; there must be other Chaotic Origin Flame fragments, or other opportunities that could help me break through. I intend to go and seek them.”
