Clouds shredded around the Jade Phoenix beaks as the carriage tore forward. Inside, Jared sat cross-legged, eyes closed. He funneled Clive’s memories through his own channels, smoothing accent slips, matching the envoy’s cadence of breath.
With every cycle of energy, his aura overlapped the disguise more tightly, seam by seam. He had left Jade Immortal Manor at dawn. By late morning, the mountains ahead already breathed a sharper cold—proof the trip to Profound Ice Valley was never meant to be long.
Hours later, a wall of white filled the skyline. Sheets of ancient ice and fresh powder hugged a vast gorge, its rim glittering like crushed starstone. Even inside the carriage, Jared felt the breath in his lungs crystallize.
At the gorge mouth, a straight line of figures waited, their robes stiff in the wind. Spears, banners, and glowing talismans formed a silent corridor.
At the front stood Master Frostmere, the Valley Master himself, draped in formal ice-silk. Behind him, several elders and hand-picked core disciples held ceremonial staves, faces tightened by the cutting air and by expectation. Once the watching crowd spotted the familiar Jade Phoenix carriage flanked by silver-armored celestial guards, spines straightened. Deferential smiles spread like fire beneath frost.
Snow crunched as the carriage settled. Master Frostmere strode forward, robe tails snapping. “The whole Profound Ice Valley welcomes the honorable Envoy Clive! Your journey must have been arduous,” he declared, bowing so low his forehead almost touched the ice.
Jared, wearing Clive’s proud mask, scarcely gave the Valley Master a glance. He tipped his chin a fraction, the tiniest nod, and let silence announce his superiority. A curt hum slipped from his nose. Without waiting for a second invitation, he followed the bowed Valley Master toward the grand hall, its walls hewn from single slabs of sky-blue ice that caught every stray beam of light.
As they advanced, disciples lined both sides, heads lowered. No one dared inhale loudly; awe and a thin layer of fear misted their eyes whenever the envoy’s boots clicked by. The moment Jared crossed the threshold, the air plunged to bone-deep cold. The biting chill only polished the hall’s solemn splendor, pillars of frozen crystal soaring like cathedral columns.
At the center waited a translucent ice-marble table, its surface set with gem-bright spirit fruit and flasks of fragrant, frost-tinged immortal wine. Master Frostmere pulled out the head chair and gestured. “Envoy, please take the main seat…” He kept his posture bent, fingers trembling slightly against the icy armrest—a picture of deference.
Jared lowered himself without ceremony, cloak spilling over the frosted chairback. “Valley Master Frostmere, my time is limited. The tribute and the soul crystal—are they ready?”
The words dropped with that unquestionable celestial weight.
“Ready, fully ready!” Master Frostmere blurted, nodding so fast the white tassels at his crown swayed. At his signal, two disciples hurried in, each carrying a frost-rimmed jade chest. A third bore a rune-laced frost-jade casket hugged close to his chest.
Lids lifted with soft clicks. Inside lay rows of top-grade ice-attribute spirit crystals, rare herbs, and glimmering ores, cold vapor curling upward like pale smoke. The frost-jade casket opened last, revealing a single soul crystal marked B12-18. Blue light pulsed within, threads of icy mist swirling around a core of locked lament.
Jared‘s senses brushed the offerings. Quantity and grade matched the records. The soul crystal’s frigid resentment pricked his own spirit, yet his expression stayed marble-still. His knuckles rapped the ice table once. “Everything tallies. The tribute and the soul crystal travel with me.”
Not a request—a decree. The simple statement left the air heavier; across the table, Frostmere’s shoulders dipped another inch beneath weight he could not name.
“Yes, yes!” Master Frostmere exhaled, relief and tension tangling in the cloud of frost before his lips. He motioned frantically; servants whisked the jade chests aside while he personally lifted the sealed frost-jade casket and set it before Jared with both hands.
Jared tucked the casket and the spatial rings into his sleeve with casual flicks, as though stamping paperwork. But the real performance had only just begun, and he let the thought settle like a knife hidden beneath velvet. Across the hall, Frostmere caught Jared’s mood and flashed a quick look to an elder—the kind of glance merchants trade before unveiling premium stock.
Obediently, that elder stepped forward, presenting a smaller, intricately carved ice-jade box that glimmered like compact winter starlight. “Honored envoy, the journey is taxing,” the elder said, bowing. “Please accept three Tranquil Mind Focus Pills refined from our ten-millennia Iceheart Lotus, our humble token of respect…”
One of Jared’s brows lifted. He cracked the lid. A clean, penetrating chill rolled out, mingled with sweet herbal fragrance, and three marble-smooth azure pills rested inside. Even a cursory glance told him the medicine could anchor a wavering spirit and fuse perfectly with any ice-aligned practice. Outside this valley, treasures of that caliber might spark a regional war.
“Valley Master, your thoughtfulness is noted.” A faint curve touched Jared’s lips as he pocketed the box. Private tribute, duly received, he mused; nothing the official ledgers would ever mention.
Master Frostmere‘s shoulders loosened the moment Jared pocketed the pills. “The road is long. Perhaps the envoy would honor us by resting here for two days?” His voice dripped hopeful eagerness. Frostmere leaned closer, lowering his tone. “The finest Ice-Soul Cave Residence awaits you. I have also chosen several maiden disciples, masters of ice dance and melody, to serve your needs and relieve travel weariness…”
As he spoke, Frostmere’s palms met in a soft clap that echoed like cracking ice through the huge hall. The beaded curtain to the side rippled. Four young women glided in, clad in sheer ice gauze that caught the lantern light. Their beauty was chilling, their eyes warm. They knelt gracefully. “Greetings, honorable envoy…”
Each girl carried upper fourth-tier cultivation, proof the valley had groomed them carefully for moments like this. Had the real Clive been here, Jared knew, the offer would have drawn a satisfied smirk and an indulgent nod.
A curl of scorn twisted through Jared’s chest, icy and small. He kept it behind the mask, flicked his sleeve, then let out an impatient breath. “This envoy still has official duties,” he said, voice flat, eyes already sliding past the girls. “Prepare the cave residence. Everyone else, leave…”
The perfume on the four girls bled toward him, sweet and cloying. If he lingered near them, his disguise might crack; one careless word could cost him his head. His pulse beat once, hard. He stepped back, keeping his glare bored rather than fearful.
Master Frostmere’s shoulders stiffened. Jared caught the flash of panic in the man’s eyes before the valley lord waved the girls away. Silk hems whispered across the ice-stone as the young women hurried out. Frostmere’s smile thinned, almost brittle under the cold light. “Yes, yes, your devotion to duty is admirable.” Frostmere bobbed in apology, voice eager. “The residence is ready. Absolute quiet. No one will disturb your cultivation.”
The words spilled out in a rush, as though noise alone could mend the misstep.
Perfect… Silence meant fewer eyes and fewer chances to slip. Jared let the relief float only a breath deep before sinking it beneath his borrowed arrogance. His features eased, just enough. “Lead the way…”
Deep within Profound Ice Valley, they stopped before a cavern whose mouth exhaled wisps of silver mist. The corridor behind it glimmered with runes, layer upon layer of barriers woven to smother sight, sound, and aura. Frostmere bowed low, then backed away.
Jared crossed the threshold. A sweep of his divine sense combed every crevice, every shard of frost. No hidden sigils, no watching spirits. Satisfied, he triggered the resident formations and laid his own veils atop them, lattice after lattice of muted light.
A thought flicked. The Pentacarna Tower shimmered over his palm, rough bronze catching the blue glow. Its doors parted. He stepped through, the outside world sealing off behind him.
Inside the Pentacarna Tower, he drew out the B12-18 Soul-Refining Crystal, laid it inside a jade box, and pressed a talisman over the seam. Pale seals tightened, locking the eerie blue shimmer away. He could not free the trapped soul yet, but at least it would no longer bleed misery into the air.
Next came the Tranquil Mind Focus Pills and the cache of celestials’ resources he had stripped from Clive’s corpse. He arranged them before him, neat and orderly.
