Grace clasped her fists and bent at the waist. “Many thanks, Benefactors!” She straightened, palms still together, and offered a tentative smile. “May I ask the honored names of my rescuers?”
“Jared,” he said, giving the single word with no embellishment. He lifted one hand toward his silent companion. “Luther.”
Grace nodded. Her gaze slid from Jared to Luther and back again, questions pooling behind her lashes, but she kept them to herself. Jared caught the stalled breath she tried to hide. “Miss Grace, moments ago you said the Palace wanted you alive for a ritual. Do you know why they chose you?”
Shadow crossed her features. Silence dragged until Jared almost spoke again. Finally she lowered her eyes. “Because I discovered their secret…”
“What secret?” Jared’s voice stayed even, but it carried the weight of a blade.
“The celestials have been raising Sacred Mountains all across the Fourteenth Firmament,” she said, hatred sharpening every syllable. “I belonged to the Blue Phoenix Sect. Three years ago a celestial squad stormed our peak, claiming Blue Phoenix Mountain for a sub-altar…
When the Sect Master refused, they butchered all three hundred seventy-eight disciples. They drained every drop of blood essence and soul, feeding it to a twisted statue with eight arms and a serpent tail.”
Her voice trembled, but no tears fell. “I had been away training. When I returned, corpses littered the mountain, and the Sect Master’s withered husk hung beside the idol.”
Jared said nothing, letting the wind that whistled through the sparse pines fill the space she no longer could. Luther’s knuckles whitened around the hilt at his belt. Ghost Clan rage surged through his veins, begging for release.
Grace drew a shaky breath and went on, “I’ve spent the last three years running from their hunters while digging for answers… I learned the Palace has raised at least nine Sacred Mountains across the Firmament. Each peak is anchored by the corpse of a Ghost Clan powerhouse, refined the same way into a ghost corpse.”
“Nine?” Luther blurted, disbelief cracking the word in half. The destruction of his people had not ended with death; even in silence their bodies were being twisted into weapons. The thought made him shake. A faint tremor ran from Luther’s shoulders to his boots; the Ghost Clan had suffered enough.
“Yes…” Grace’s teeth clicked together as she forced the word out. “Hall Master Dominic wants more than Lord Mournwright. He plans to turn eight other ancient Ghost Clan champions into corpses as well… When all nine rise, the Ninefold Nether Infernal Array will let him crush the Basilica, the Palace, maybe even seize the whole celestial race.”
Jared’s pupils narrowed to pinpoints. Dominic’s ambition ran deeper than Jared had guessed. The Divine King, the Golden Immortal who ruled the celestials, stood leagues above Dominic in rank. Yet the man still dared to reach for that throne. No wonder he needed so many ghost corpses… The scale of the scheme finally made sense.
“Have you spoken of this to anyone else?” Jared asked.
Grace shook her head. “I kept silent. No one would believe me. If you hadn’t saved me today, I would have died dragging the hunters into oblivion.” Her eyes pleaded. “Benefactor, I know you oppose the Palace and carry a Golden Dragon Bloodline and chaotic force. I don’t ask you to avenge the Blue Phoenix Sect, only that, when you strike at them, you smash those altars. Even one destroyed will spare countless lives.”
Jared held her gaze and gave a slow nod. “I will…” Relief loosened her shoulders; she bowed deeply once more.
When the tremor in her voice faded, Jared asked, “Miss Grace, do you know the way to the Celestial Basilica?”
Hearing this, Grace blinked. “The Basilica? Benefactor, you intend to go there?”
“Yes. The Palace wants my head, so I’ll visit their enemy,” Jared added, “I also need their sages to free a married couple’s souls.”
She considered. “The Basilica lies within the Luminous Sanctuary, roughly six hundred thousand kilometers from here. Even at your speed, flying day and night, it would take more than a month.”
“That long?” Luther’s brow knit, annoyance edging his voice.
Grace answered without irritation, “The Fourteenth Firmament stretches farther than you think. Every single region is as large as all of level thirteen combined. And the way is riddled with danger: demon beasts, spatial rifts, ancient seals… Ordinary travelers would never risk such a journey on wings alone. But you needn’t worry, Benefactor. Every major city is linked by Teleportation Arrays. Use one, and you can reach the Luminous Sanctuary in a single day.”
Hearing that, a spark lit Jared’s eyes. “Teleportation Arrays? Where can I find the nearest one?”
Grace responded, “The closest stands in Cloudhaven City, about 3,000 miles from here. It’s the largest city within ten thousand miles, and its grand array links directly to the Luminous Sanctuary.”
“Good. Then Cloudhaven it is,” Jared decided without hesitation.
They were about to depart when Grace hesitated, trouble clouding her face. “Benefactor, there is one matter… I’m unsure whether to mention it.”
Jared kept his voice calm and gave a short nod. “Speak your mind. Nothing is off-limits.”
Grace lowered her gaze and, almost in a whisper, said, “The Teleportation Array runs on celestial elixir. It’s the only payment it accepts. The rate is at least one hundred bottles for each traveler. For three of us, that climbs to three hundred.”
“Celestial elixir?” A faint line formed between Jared’s brows. “Explain exactly what that is.”
In answer, Grace reached into her robe and produced a palm-sized white-jade vial, then offered it to him with both hands. He accepted the vial, eased the stopper free, and let the aroma drift up to his face. Inside rested roughly half a bottle of pale gold liquid. Dense celestial essence pressed outward, purer by far than any immortal crystal he had touched.
Grace pointed at the shimmering fluid. “That is celestial elixir. Nothing in the Fourteenth Firmament is priced in spirit stones or immortal crystals. Every transaction is measured in elixir… The local aura carries a murky taint. Raw spiritual energy won’t refine directly into our bodies… Only after it’s purified through special methods and condensed into liquid form can it be absorbed.
Those methods exist only in the Essence Refineries found inside the main cities. A cultivator channels personal celestial energy into the refinery array… The array pulls in ambient essence, merges it, and drips liquid elixir. The contributor keeps thirty percent of what forms.”
Luther’s eyes widened. “No wonder the air felt rich but gritty the moment we stepped into this firmament.”
Jared considered her account. “So, the elixir doubles as cultivation fuel and as currency.”
“Exactly!” Grace nodded once for emphasis. “Every vial bears a city-forged sigil. The markings differ by city, can’t be forged, yet all hold equal value.” A trace of shame crossed her face. “I’ve spent three years dodging pursuit, Benefactor. Only eight bottles remain on me, nowhere near enough for even a single fare.”
