Albus rushed forward to support Blanche, carefully checking her injuries. His eyes were filled with concern.
“Don’t talk. Let me treat your wounds first. He pulled out a small vial and tipped two pills into his palm that gave off a fragrant aroma and shimmered with spiritual energy. He fed one to his sister and crushed the other, sprinkling it over her most serious wounds.
The pills were remarkably effective. Blanche felt warmth spreading through her body as her condition stabilized, and her spiritual energy began to recover.
She couldn’t help but ask, “Albus, how did you find me? And…”
“I received a communication device, a rune slate, left behind by our family. That’s how I learned that you might be in danger somewhere around the Oakvale region. I’ve been searching for you ever since.
“Two days ago, I sensed a faint fluctuation from the rune slate you used, so I hastened my pace. When I was 30 miles away, I felt a massive surge of spiritual power, along with a familiar icy aura and the Stormcraft energy of that Jornell bastard.
“I knew you were in danger, so I streaked across the sky on a blade of cyan sword light to reach you.” He paused and scratched his head a bit sheepishly.
“That attack just now… I’ve been refining it during my seclusion over the past two years. It was the first time I used it in real combat. Glad I didn’t embarrass you.”
Blanche looked at Albus. Despite possessing terrifying strength, he still acted like a child who still relied on his elder sister. Her heart felt both comforted and conflicted. She knew he must have experienced unimaginable trials to possess such a shocking sword attainment at such a young age.
Just then, Snowy padded over and nuzzled affectionately against his leg.
He smiled and patted its head. “Thank you for protecting my sister.” Blanche suddenly recalled the earlier battle and looked frantically toward the sky.
“What about Aunt Aveline and the others…
Albus’ expression turned solemn.
“Don’t worry. When I arrived, I rescued the four trapped members on my way here. Aunt Aveline’s injuries are severe, but she’s not in mortal danger. I gave them healing tablets and had them rest and recover at the base of that cliff over there.”
“It’s a long story,” Albus said quickly as he continued tending to her wounds. As he spoke, he pointed toward a location at the edge of the marsh. Blanche finally let out a full breath of relief, the weight lifting from her chest.
“We shouldn’t stay here,” he said seriously. “Even though I forced Alarion to retreat, the Jornell family will not let this matter rest. They may already have stronger experts on the way, such as Elder Sevran, whom Narcissa had mentioned before.”
He added, “We must leave immediately and find a place that is absolutely safe for you to recover.”
Blanche nodded, leaning on him for support. She glanced in the direction of Oakvale, her gaze complicated.
The white pendant she had held so tightly earlier was still faintly warm. But with her brother as a powerful backup, she was temporarily safe and no longer needed to involve Dustin.
“Albus, let’s regroup with Aunt Aveline and the others first.”
Blanche pushed aside her wandering thoughts. Her top priority at the moment was to recover quickly so she could deal with the Jornell family’s inevitable retaliation.
Albus nodded, his hand lifting in a silent summons. The crystalline longsword appeared again, transforming into a broad, gentle cyan sword light that lifted Blanche and Snowy into the air. He himself rode the currents of energy beside his sister.
The siblings turned into two streaks of light. They flew toward the marsh’s edge-where Aveline and the others were-and quickly vanished into the dense, poisonous miasma and chaotic magnetic currents.
Blackwind Marsh returned to its eerie silence. Lingering traces of icy sword aura and scorched earth were all that remained, signs of a brief but momentous clash that would unsettle those who understood its significance.
A brilliantly talented young Sword Whisperer was now entering these increasingly turbulent undercurrents with Blanche.
Far away, Alarion crashed into some wilderness, battered and disheveled. He coughed up blood, his face ashen. Beyond the venom in his eyes, there was now a deep fear and lingering dread.
His hands were trembling as he pulled out a higher-grade rune slate and sent a message through gritted teeth.
“Elder Sevran! Blanche has a powerful backup. It’s her brother, around 17 years old, with terrifyingly advanced sword attainment. He appears to have mastered an extremely profound Crystalline Strike technique and can freeze my soul-bound artifact across cultivation realms.
“I… I was severely injured and couldn’t defeat him. I request the family to dispatch stronger experts at once. We must kill these two and reclaim ‘that item.'”
After sending the message, Alarion collapsed on the ground. Starling up at the gloomy sky, all that remained in his heart was endless hatred and a chill he refused to acknowledge even to himself.
The Frost family had actually produced such a prodigy. The storm, triggered by this Sword Whisperer’s sudden emergence, had become even more unpredictable and fierce.
