Jared’s pupils narrowed; he knew this strike could no longer be dissolved. With both hands locked on the hilt, every shred of power inside him surged outward. The Dragonslayer Sword roared like a living beast as gray chaotic energy took the shape of a dragon and charged forward.
Clang! This time, the ring of true metal sliced the heavens, a single note that left the air quivering. The Sword Duel Platform convulsed beneath them, and spiderweb cracks began bursting across the obsidian Test-Blade Stone. Spectators, Winslow and the others, staggered backward under the shockwave. Leopold, whose cultivation lagged behind, coughed scarlet at the corner of his mouth.
At the clash’s center, sword light and the gray dragon tore space apart, revealing strips of bottomless darkness. After three breaths, the radiance faded.
Jared remained where he had begun, expressionless, the Dragonslayer Sword quietly humming beside his leg. Ten yards away stood Oswald, robe shredded, ash-gray hair unbound. Having been injured by chaotic sword energy, a gash the width of two fingers split his left shoulder to the bone, yet his face shone with exhilaration.
He laughed, deep, liberated laughter that rolled across the broken platform. “Excellent! What an excellent Chaos Genesis Sword! With that stroke, I glimpsed the realm beyond the state of man and blade as one. This has been worth every drop of blood!”
Oswald threw his head back, laughter pealing through the clouds like rolling thunder. With that, he snapped the sword back into its sheath, the click crisp and final, then strode across the battered stone toward Jared. Stretching out a calloused hand, he hauled the young man upright in one smooth pull, the gesture rough yet strangely respectful.
“As for the alliance, Heavenly Sword Pavilion is in. But hear me first. Within the alliance, our sect will only take orders from you alone. As for all the pointless disputes and back-and-forth, don’t ever involve me. Bring the petty squabbles of others to my door, and I will turn you away at the gate.”
Jared dipped his chin, acceptance firm and unflinching. “Understood…”
Oswald’s eyes narrowed, the smile sharpening. “Also, you’d better prepare yourself for Aurelian Metalhart. That silver-tongued fox is far harder to bend than I ever will be.”
“I know my limits,” Jared answered, confidence ringing clear, his steady gaze promising far more than simple words.
***
Seven days later, the group arrived at Five-Element Range.
Unlike the knife-edged ridges of the Heavenly Sword Range, the Five-Element Range unfolded in five distinct peaks, each washed in its own hue: gilded metal, emerald wood, sapphire water, scarlet fire, and earthen brown. Streams of a five-colored spiritual energy spiraled between those heights, weaving a panorama that was equal parts dazzling and uneasy.
Yet the nearer one drew, the more obvious the strain became. Currents of spiritual energy butted and repelled, their collisions betraying the sect’s simmering internal discord. Thanks to a Sword Essence Pill and his own prodigious vitality, Jared’s injuries had mended by nearly seventy percent.
No sooner had his party stepped across the sect’s boundary stones than five separate patrols exploded from the tree line, hemming them in from every direction.
The robes told the story: Gold for Metal, green for Wood, deep blue for Water, ember red for Fire, and ochre for Earth. The disciples formed five distinct wedges, each eyeing even their supposed allies with measured suspicion.
“State your names and purpose!” the five branch leaders barked in imperfect unison, one voice cold as quenched steel, another hot as a bellows, the rest scattered like wind-ruffled leaves.
Winslow opened his mouth to reply, but Jared raised a quieting hand and stepped forward alone. He pressed his palms together. At his brow, a mote of dim gray light blossomed, then burst into five radiant streams. Chaos-tinged brilliance arced out, each ribbon homing toward a different squad of disciples without a hint of malice.
Instinctively, the disciples conjured barriers, only to watch the light settle before them, knitting miniature cycles. Metal giving rise to water, water to wood, wood to fire, fire to earth, and earth back to metal—each transition flawless, seamless, and without the slightest hitch. Those tiny wheels meshed, locking together into a greater ring that rotated with measured, inexhaustible grace.
“W-What is this?” gasped several voices at once, awe eclipsing suspicion.
For centuries, they had studied the theory of mutual generation, yet pride and rivalry kept the branches splintered. Never had they witnessed the five forces dancing so flawlessly hand in hand. In that silent revelation, the mountain air itself seemed to loosen its ancient knots.
“Take me to Mr. Metalhart,” Jared said calmly as he withdrew the chaotic celestial energy. “Tell him someone has come who can end the sect’s thousand-year deadlock.”
The branch leaders traded uneasy glances before the leader of the Metal Branch swallowed his doubts and bowed. “This way, please…”
Inside the Five-Element Grand Hall, the chamber stretched in a perfect pentagon. At each face sat a single elder, each representing one of the five branches—Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth—separated by lines as sharp as sword cuts in marble.
A man occupied the seat of highest honor, neither slouching nor rigid but perfectly balanced, as though the chair had been carved around his spine. Five colors—metallic gold, deep green, sapphire, crimson, and warm umber—flowed across his robe in slow, drifting currents of light.
His cheeks were round, his eyes half-mooned with an easy, knowing smile that seemed etched there by years of quiet confidence. Naturally, this was Aurelian Metalhart, revered leader of the Five-Element Sect.
“Jared, you have traveled far to reach my humble hall… Forgive me for not welcoming you sooner. I heard you crossed swords with that stubborn Oswald at the Heavenly Sword Pavilion, and even made him bow his head and join your Anti-Demon Alliance. Impressive, truly impressive!”
“Mr. Metalhart, you flatter me. I have come here today to ask that the Five-Element Sect lend its strength to the Anti-Demon Alliance.”
The words had scarcely left Jared’s lips when the Five-Branch Elders exchanged sharp glances. Robes of metal sheen, emerald silk, sapphire gauze, scarlet brocade, and earthen brown fluttered as they leaned toward one another, voices falling into urgent, overlapping whispers.
“An alliance? Well… The Five-Element Cycle Grand Array guards our walls. Malevolent Path Hall has smashed itself bloody against it before and failed. Why should we take the risk?”
“Exactly! It’s better to hunker down and let the fiends clash with others until both sides are crippled. Then we collect the spoils while still breathing.”
“Fools! Do you all not understand that when we lose one pillar, the whole structure weakens? When Malevolent Path Hall has wiped out other factions, we will be next on their list!”
“If you want to fight that badly, feel free to send in your Fire Branch! My Water Branch disciples are nurturers, not brawlers. I will not waste them in reckless charges.”
The five elders glared across the pentagonal chamber, shoulders tensing, each ready to turn doctrine into open combat. At the apex of the hall, Aurelian, forever smiling, merely folded his thin hands and watched Jared, as though the entire quarrel were a test the young visitor must pass alone.
That was when Jared realized Aurelian was testing him. If he couldn’t even settle the infighting among the Five Branches, what right did he have to speak of an alliance?
“The Five-Element Sect’s predicament doesn’t lie with outside enemies, but with its own internal strife,” Jared suddenly said, quiet yet cutting through the uproar.
Silence plunged like a drawn blade. Even torches seemed to burn softer, awaiting the next word.
“The art of the Five Elements is meant to nurture and sustain itself in endless cycles. Yet within the Five-Element Sect, each branch cultivates only its own element, competing against the others, refusing to yield, throwing the balance of the Five Elements into chaos and leaving gaps in your cultivation,” Jared continued, voice gaining steadiness with every syllable.
“Therefore, even though your Five-Element Cycle Grand Array is strong, it has never reached the realm of endless regeneration. How could it, when those who weave its lines refuse to breathe as one?”
Ferrum, elder of the Metal Branch, snorted, the sound like steel on flint. “That’s easy for you to say, boy. Resources are finite. How do you divide what is scarce without bloodshed?”
“Why divide at all?” Jared asked, brow lifting. “The elements nurture one another. Metal gives rise to Water, so the Metal Branch, as it cultivates, naturally produces metal energy that can aid the Water Branch in their practice… Similarly, Water gives rise to Wood, so the Water Branch, as it cultivates, produces water essence that nourishes the Wood Branch… And so, the cycle continues. If all five branches cultivate together, resources won’t be depleted; on the contrary, they will multiply through this continuous exchange.”
As if on cue, the small fire unicorn perched on Jared’s shoulder leapt forward. With playful claws, it sketched a glowing ring in mid-air—five radiant arcs intertwining until a perfect elemental circle shimmered above the marble floor.
This time, Jared breathed a thread of chaotic celestial energy into the image. Colors flared—gold, azure, emerald, crimson, ocher—spinning faster until the illusion drew raw spiritual energy from the very air, refining it into a roaring torrent of balanced elemental power.
