“Let’s begin…” Jared’s whisper fell like a stone into water, sending quiet ripples through the tower’s hush. He folded his legs, spine straight, and drew the first verse of the Chaotic Scripture across his mind. The chaotic force inside him rumbled in answer.
He swallowed the three pills. Cool medicine burst open, streams of brightness threading into his meridians. The chill soothed his spirit, yet each ribbon also fused with the churning gray energy, making the flow smoother, rounder, more obedient to his will.
Snippets of Clive’s training lore surfaced—fragmented diagrams, half-understood mantras. Jared sifted them one by one, discarding vanity, keeping the bones of power. Every scrap he kept, he measured against the chaos path, letting it sharpen what fit and grind away what did not.
Time inside the tower stretched, silent and thick. Beyond the cavern walls, only two hours crept by; within, several days drifted past Jared’s closed lids. When the final draught of pill energy sank into his core, his aura drew tighter, darker, like a storm cloud packed with charge. No breakthrough yet, but his foundation felt like tempered steel, every fracture line hammered flat.
Next stop…
The single thought rang clean. His eyes opened, light folding back behind the pupils. Jared dismissed the tower, peeled away the woven wards, and stepped into the frigid passageway. At the mouth, Master Frostmere waited, breath pluming. “Did the envoy rest well? Anything else the Valley can provide?”
Jared offered the barest nod. “Acceptable. I depart for the Sunfire Sect now. Conduct yourselves wisely.”
“Safe travels, Envoy!” Frostmere bowed until his beard brushed the ice. The whole Profound Ice Valley spilled into the courtyard, heads lowered while the Jade Phoenix carriage climbed the sky. Once the speck vanished, collective shoulders loosened, and invisible sweat was wiped from unseen brows.
The next destination lay ahead: the Sunfire Sect.
The landscape flipped from white to burning red. Rivers of magma pulsed beneath cracked stone, and heat shimmered over jagged peaks. Sect Master Blaze Redflame, a barrel-chested man with a face the color of hot coals, met Jared with a sheepish grin that trembled around the edges. Ceremony matched the valley’s—trumpets, bows, forced smiles, fear hiding in every throat.
Jared inspected the offerings: upper-grade crystals, a ledger, and the B12-22 Soul Crystal, its molten aura licking at the jade seals. Then came the private tribute. Blaze presented three stalks of Earthfire Blood Coral and a jug of Flamefire Immortal Brew, heat rolling from both like breath from a furnace.
“I heard, Envoy, that you were troubled back at the Jade Immortal Manor…” Blaze’s words tiptoed out while he pushed the gifts forward, sweat already beading along his hairline.
Heat haze shimmered over the obsidian tiles as Master Redflame stepped closer, both hands steady yet tense around a narrow jade tray. He kept his eyes lowered while he whispered, “A few humble items, honored envoy… They might soothe your mind and anchor your spirit, strengthen your realm…”
Jared let a cold snort scrape his throat, the sound sharp as iron on stone. He swept the tray into his sleeve without a glance, allowing his face to darken another shade—the look of a man recently ambushed and still seething.
The sect master flinched, sweat blooming along his temples. “Please, Envoy, set your mind at ease. Sunfire Sect has never failed its tribute… We have readied the safest chamber for your seclusion,” he added, voice dropping, “No outsider will come within ten walls…”
The offer of dancers hovered unsaid, floating like smoke in the heated hall. Catching Jared’s grim expression, Master Redflame merely bowed deeper, a faint gesture of invitation that promised women on a nod, yet held the words behind clenched teeth. Jared ignored the signal; the only thing he needed was that locked room.
Soon scorching winds gave way to thick stone corridors. He followed a servant’s torch into the volcano’s gut, arriving at a basalt door rimmed with molten cracks. Inside, heat pounded like drums, yet the spiritual seals held the walls firm. Jared laid formations, then slipped into the Pentacarna Tower.
Crimson coral floated before him, veins of lava gleaming. He channeled chaotic force, colors whirling, breaking, and dissolving into clear motes that seeped through his meridians, bathing each node with raw life and fire. He uncorked the Flamefire Immortal Brew. One burning swallow rolled down, spreading a mellow blaze that rushed along bone and blood, tempering muscle like steel pulled from the forge.
Time inside the tower stretched, day bleeding into unseen night as cultivation threaded every breath. When he finally stilled, his flesh hummed—denser, tougher, each flex sending a quiet crackle through the air.
Exiting the sect gates, Jared stepped onto the carriage. Below, Master Redflame and thousands of disciples kneeled on scorching flagstones, foreheads nearly kissing the rock. Their silent plea was obvious: might this temperamental envoy leave without disaster.
Jared pointed the Jade Phoenix carriage toward the endless green rising on the horizon. The towering canopy of Greenwood Gate called like a cool breeze. Hours later, trunks the width of palaces loomed around the landing platform; moss-sweet air carried birdsong and resin.
Fairy Greenleaf glided forward, a mature grace in every gesture, dark hair pinned with jade leaves that quivered softly. After formalities, she lifted a slim wooden case and a crystal vial. Ten-Millennia Greenwood Spirit Marrow gleamed pale gold; three Vitality Genesis Pills rested beside it.
“Envoy, your complexion surpasses even last year; your cultivation, truly splendid…” Her voice rang gentle, admiration threading each syllable. Smiling, she continued, “A modest token from Greenwood Gate… We have prepared a Yinwood Spirit Grotto, quiet, secluded, perfect for regulating your breath.”
Though rumors of Jade Immortal Manor swirled, she never alluded to them; only serenity filled her lowered gaze. Jared accepted everything without protest. Guided through hollowed roots into the tree’s heart, he arrayed sigils, then vanished into the Pentacarna Tower once more.
Thick emerald liquid spiraled above his palm; life energy pulsed so rich it perfumed the air. He folded it into his core, following with the gentle glow of each pill. The nutrients stitched tiny fissures left by frantic cultivation, sharpening mind and marrow alike until his spirit gleamed like polished crystal. Chaos and vitality meshed, destruction and growth swirling in a balanced tide.
When he stepped from the grotto, his power steadied at Heavenly Immortal ninth grade, a breath away from the Upper Realm. His aura flowed smooth as river glass, free of the hollowness that plagued rushed ascents. Feeling that boundless calm, Fairy Greenleaf lowered her eyes, reverence softening every feature as she escorted him to the carriage.
Thus Jared, masked as Clive, rode the skies city after city, the Jade Phoenix carriage blazing a royal path. Wherever he descended, sect masters lined the forecourts, backs bent, voices trembling, gifts stacked like mountains. Spirit stones that sang, roots that bled starlight, even flawless cultivatrices wrapped in silk—all pushed forward with quivering hands.
Jared’s only price was solitude. A sealed chamber, always. Behind its barriers, he slipped into the tower, grinding every tribute into personal strength. One outside hour became several inside. Endless cycles of breath and stillness stretched beneath the tower’s colored skies.
Supply after supply poured in, and the chaotic force devoured each flavor, weaving them into an ever-thickening lattice of power. Eventually, pressure knotted at his core, then released—a silent bloom that lifted him to the pinnacle of Heavenly Immortal ninth grade.
One more push… And the next realm will break like thin ice… Good… Time to greet the four venerables of Divine Punishment Hall…
The silent words flared with anticipation. Strength flooded his limbs, crisp and obedient, and his confidence surged to match.
