Blood spattered the elder’s black robe as the head rolled. The stench hit first, then the rage. “Insolence!” thundered, his shout cracking across the courtyard, demonic aura surging violently around him. Darkness spread like ink, gale-force winds whipped stones and chilled the air.
Crimson light exploded from the hollows of the old man’s eyes as glared at Jared, as though meant to swallow the younger man whole.
“The Blackshade Demon Palace is no playground for brats,” hissed.
With a flick unseen by any, an ashen-green bone staff appeared In his grip, its crown set with a pulsing crimson crystal. “Seize the reckless fool and tear to pieces!”
The four spear-wielding Blackshade Guards roared in unison.
Earthly Immortal Realm Level One aura surged from their bodies as they lunged as one, spearpoints weaving a frost-lit web meant to snuff Jared’s heartbeat in a single breath.
Flaxseed instinctively clutched a handful of charms, his heart hammering.
These four were stronger than the elder Jared had maimed earlier; even an Earthly immortal Realm Level Two cultivator would have backed away from their concerted strike. Yet, Jared’s expression remained serene, untouched by panic.
An instant before the spears brushed his coat, moved, no thunderous flourish, barely even a gesture, only a flash of radiant gold, a dawn-bright light that slit the gloom and vanished.
The four sharp sounds nearly merged into a single crisp note, as clean and precise as slicing through soft cheese.
Flaxseed never even saw Jared draw his blade; only registered a streak of golden light.
A heartbeat later, four armored heads toppled like overripe fruit, scarlet fountains spraying across the white-jade steps before the palace. Their headless bodies swayed, then crashed, spears clattering on the marble square with a metallic shriek.
For a moment, time itself seemed to freeze. The bone staff halted mid-air In the old man’s whitened knuckles, his rage hardening into raw disbelief.
Those four were his personally trained blades, veterans whose strength had reached the acme of perfection, who could spar with Earthly immortal Realm Level Two, yet they had died without ruffling Jared’s sleeve.
He had not even seen which way the sword came!
Jared lowered the Dragonslayer Sword; the blood vanished as if the blade refused to be stained, leaving only ancient cold steel. His eyes met the old man’s, still and bottomless as a winter lake.
“I am furious,” said, voice stripped of emotion.
Those words sent a chill down the elder’s spine, as if a venomous snake had fixed its eyes on him.
“Since I set foot on Nine Serpent Mountain, someone is forever testing my patience.” Jared advanced, each step shaking the flagstones, invisible pressure rolling outward like a rising tide. “A while ago, I took his arm as a warning. Now, I took his life because ignored it.”
Stopping ten paces away, studied the old man’s deeply lined face. “You have two options, stand still, or be the next head to roll.”
The old man’s throat bobbed, the bone staff shook under fingers gone bloodless. He had lived nearly a millennium and thought had tasted every storm, but never had felt terror this pure.
The calm in Jared’s gaze carried more promise of death than any frenzied roar.
