As the eight streaks of sword energy descended before Jared, they coalesced into human forms, eight cultivators, each with a sword case strapped to their back. Jared’s frown deepened.
“The Eight Swordsmen of Demonia Mountain?” Fraser‘s expression darkened as recognition struck him.
“You know them?” Jared asked, his gaze never leaving the swordsmen.
“Of course. Years ago, the Eight Swordsmen of Demonia Mountain were infamous, formidable warriors, but unfortunately, they were Demonic Cultivators. Rumor had it they were hunted down and ultimately slain by a powerful expert. I can’t believe they’re still alive… And judging by their aura, they’ve only grown stronger!” Fraser said, his voice laced with disbelief.
Jared took a step forward, asking, “Gentlemen, we have no enmity between us. What brings you here?”
The leader of the group, Rostam, stepped forward, his eyes cold and unreadable. “We are from Four Hell Palace. Mr. Montes has ordered your death.”
Fraser’s eyes widened in shock. “The Eight Swordsmen, renowned for their tough characters, serving under Four Hell Palace? Aren’t swordsmen supposed to never bow to anyone?”
Jared was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t expected the eight black-clad cultivators trailing behind Stefan to be the legendary Eight Swordsmen of Demonia Mountain.
He had to admit, Four Hell Palace was indeed formidable, especially Stefan. Commanding the loyalty of such powerful individuals was no small feat.
Turning to Fraser, Jared asked, “Can you handle these eight?”
Fraser blinked in surprise before narrowing his eyes at Jared. “If you think I’m dead weight, just say it outright. No need to go about it this way.”
Jared chuckled. “That‘s not what I meant…”
“Oh? Then what did you mean? Because it sure sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me. Maybe you want me out of the way so you can claim more of Twilight Imperial City’s assets?” Fraser shot a glare.
Jared was speechless. Even if Fraser lived, Twilight Imperial City would still belong to him.
Before Jared could respond, Orion and the others stepped forward.
“Mr. Chance, what about us?” Orion asked.
Jared glanced at them, thoughtful. Although Orion and his companions had also reached the Immortal Realm, their strength was still a notch below that of the swordsmen.
Jared’s gaze shifted toward Ararat and Kishor.
“Mr. Chance, it’s eight against one. This won’t be an easy fight,” Ararat said honestly.
Their strength hadn’t fully recovered. Here, in the Land of Finale, they relied on the celestial crystals Jared provided just to keep their power from waning. Even their daily sparring sessions with Jared drained a significant amount of resources.
“What about you two?” Jared asked.
Kishor nodded. “Let’s give it a shot…”
Just as Jared was about to assign Ararat and Kishor to handle the swordsmen, Rostam suddenly stepped forward. “Jared, as swordsmen, we don’t believe in overwhelming the weak with numbers. How about a one-on-one duel between you and me?”
Jared arched a brow. “You and me?”
Rostam nodded. “Yes, a sword duel.”
Jared chuckled. “Fine, but don’t come crying when you lose…”
“You’ll be the one crying!” Rostam shot back.
The moment finished speaking, leapt into the air.
A smirk tugged at the corners of Jared’s lips as rose effortlessly into the air.
“Mr. Chance, this guy looks like the perfect test for your sword intent. Let‘s see if all that training paid off,” Ararat remarked.
Jared gave a slight nod. “Yeah!”
Not far away, Stefan watched as Jared and Rostam slowly ascended into mid-air. A faint smile played on his lips.
“This Jared is quite something… He’s got two more experts with him,” mused.
Unbeknownst to him, Kishor and Ararat were guardians of the Celestial Stairway Dimension.
Red Ghost, standing beside him, narrowed his eyes. “Mr. Montes, I have a feeling Rostam might not be his match. Do you want me to step in?”
Stefan waved a hand dismissively. “Let’s watch a little longer.”
Red Ghost simply nodded.
Meanwhile, suspended mid-air, Rostam slowly drew his sword from its scabbard. The instant the blade was unsheathed, an icy brilliance surged forth, freezing the very air around him.
A sharp sizzling echoed through the space, as though the cold itself was searing into reality.
