For a heartbeat, she was motionless. Then joy flooded her like sunlight after endless night. “I… I say yes!” she cried, voice trembling yet certain, shyness burned away by new resolve. The tears dried, leaving only bright determination in their place.
Jared traced a silent sigil. A silvered barrier sealed the rocky hollow, shutting out snow and every prying sense beyond the stone.
“Crude, but enough,” he murmured, folding his legs as a halo of soft, swirling chaotic energy rose around him. “Come…”
Clara Cloudridge steadied her breathing and knelt before him, heart thundering like hooves across ice.
Eyes closed, she slipped free of her plain white garb. Pale crystal light stroked skin smooth as carved ivory, casting her in a quiet, sacred glow.
“Be ready…” Jared warned with a small, serious smile. “I am… intense…”
He leaned forward, and their energies collided like twin rivers meeting a cliff. His chaotic celestial energy wrapped gently through her meridians, feeding them while guiding her sword essence into a sharper, purer flame.
Clara’s sword essence gleamed—razor, pure, a shard of winter light—and every stroke sent a bright ripple through Jared’s celestial power, sharpening it, making it dance.
Inside the cramped cavern, those twin forces twisted together like silver strands, weaving a faint halo that settled over their intertwined bodies.
The ice-crusted floor, once inert, sprouted delicate runic veins fed by the radiance, and the wild energy of the land streamed inward, flooding their meridians without pause.
Warmth spilled through Clara’s veins; the strength she had burned to fight the blizzard returned in surging waves, widening every channel, toughening every thread. At last, her long-stalled bottleneck trembled, ready to crack.
She felt Jared’s power course through her, gentle, steady, profoundly reassuring, until she surrendered to the current, content to drift in its embrace.
Jared noticed the shift as well.
Clara’s sword essence carried a fragrance all its own; in their shared cultivation, the two powers nurtured one another, layer by layer lifting them toward new heights.
Within his core, the Chaotic Fire Lotus and the draconic energy whirled faster, drinking from Clara’s immaculate strength until his celestial energy packed itself tighter than molten steel.
Night slipped by in silence.
When dawn speared through the crack in the ice roof, the array dissolved, and twin explosions of brilliance burst from their skin before collapsing inward like suns extinguished.
Jared opened his eyes; they blazed like polished blades.
One night of dual cultivation had anchored his Heavenly Immortal Realm Level One cultivation, expanded his reserves, and let him wield the Law of Chaos as if it were a familiar blade.
Clara’s lids fluttered open, her aura now fierce enough to hum in the air. Her gaze shone clearer, her skin shimmered, and the cool elegance she carried now bore a subtle, disarming allure.
“Clara, how do you feel?” Jared asked.
“Better than I imagined…” she whispered, cheeks pink as she reached for her clothes. “My legs, though, they’re a little sore…”
“That fades with practice,” he said, amused. He helped her stand.
They glanced toward the corner where the Vermilion Demon Lord sat cross-legged, eyes closed in meditation. The demon seemed oblivious to the previous night, though the pulse of his demonic essence had grown steadier.
Jared alone understood that the ancient fiend had long since gotten used to it. Back when the demon had been trapped in Jared’s consciousness field, he had witnessed worse.
***
After a brief rest, the trio resumed their march toward the Eternal Ice Plains.
In the evenings that followed, whenever the horizon smoldered red and they sought shelter, Clara would slip naturally to Jared’s side, and their cultivation would meld again beneath discreet layers of protective sigils.
Each session deepened their rhythm, braided their spirits tighter, and stitched unexpected fondness between them.
Clara was no longer as shy as before; sometimes she leaned against Jared’s shoulder, trading insights or whispering tales of the Mystic Sky Sword Sect.
Jared welcomed every exchange. Clara’s noble upbringing and broad view of Level Ten’s cultivation world often sparked revelations he had never considered.
The gains were undeniable: Jared’s foundation crept toward Level Two of the Heavenly Immortal Realm, while Clara surged until only a single breath separated her from Level Six.
Throughout it all, the Vermilion Demon Lord maintained solemn silence, his only concerns Selene and the elusive blood lotus. The demon sensed their meteoric rise and felt no jealousy, only relief; greater strength would carve a path through the frozen hell ahead.
Yet the farther they pushed into the extreme north, the harsher the world became.
Snow and wind hurled themselves across the horizon in a blinding white fury. Glacial laws grew so dense they felt almost solid, each breath as sharp as broken glass, lethal to any ordinary Heavenly Immortal cultivator.
Meanwhile, Jared and Clara, their spirits still intertwined from days of dual cultivation, moved forward beneath a gauzy shield of Jared’s chaotic celestial energy. What should have been impassable became no more than a hard winter stroll.
“Jared, Vermilion, look ahead…” Clara pointed toward an endless ivory wasteland, her voice thinned by the gale. “That is the heart of the Eternal Ice Plains… Beyond it, deeper still, lies the realm claimed by the Northern Abyss Celestial Clan.”
Jared narrowed his eyes. The plain stretched flat and flawless, a mirror of packed crystal ice. Beneath the surface ran faint violet veins that pulsed with silent menace. Above, the storm raged harder, flinging scythe-shaped shards of ice whose bite could match any Heavenly Immortal strike.
Vermilion exhaled through clenched teeth. “We made it at last…”
Resolve flashed across his eyes; the hand at his side trembled. “Selene, wait a little longer. I will claim the lotus for you… No matter the cost…”
Jared laid a steady palm on Vermilion’s shoulder. “You’re not alone. While I stand, that flower will be yours.”
He turned to Clara, his gaze unexpectedly gentle. “What comes next will be brutal. Are you afraid?”
Clara shook her head, sword-light dancing around her lashes. “Not while you’re here. Whatever waits in the dark, I’ll face it beside you.”
A small, approving smile touched Jared’s lips.
