Jared’s eyes hardened, was a breath from igniting his own blood essence when a cool voice drifted from above. “Drystan, bullying the weak, does that title still sound noble in your ears?!”
Before Drystan’s threat could finish echoing through the square, a flash of white streaked past like a startled swan.
Isabel’s cane snapped upward, spilling a storm of silver strands that rained down as razors. The seemingly soft filaments sliced through the golden-armored formation, flinging four guards across the flagstones and leaving them sprawled, unconscious and bleeding.
Drystan’s pupils contracted. He stared at the unexpected woman in plain robes and blurted, “Isabel? What in heaven’s name are you doing here?”
Isabel stepped in front of Jared. The crescent-shaped jade at waist caught the sun with a gentle gleam.
She spared the fallen guards a chilly glance, then fixed icy eyes on Drystan. “By order of the Fourth Hall’s Commander, I am here to safeguard Mr. Chance. You, Drystan, have ignored that order and led Golden Armor Guards to murder him. Are you trying to ignite a civil war?!”
Drystan barked a laugh as though had told a Joke. Pointing at Jared, roared. “He killed our people, shattered our prestige! You must be brainwashed to shield a traitor!”
His tone turned venomous. “Remember, Isabel, I’m acting under the Third Hall’s command. Ruin my mission today, and not even the Fourth Hall’s commander will save you when the third demands your head!”
Isabel flicked cane. Silver threads wove a shimmering barrier before her, and the full force of a level-nine Earthly Immortal surged outward, cracking the cobblestones. “If you can, go ahead and complain to the Celestial King Palace. But touch Mr. Chance, and my Whisk of Purity will answer you first.”
She advanced one step. The unseen pressure forced Drystan to retreat.
“The Fourth Hall’s commander bears the Celestial King‘s decree, even the king yields three steps. You strut through level six on borrowed power, yet dare storm the fifth as though it were yours, do you think the Fourth Hall doesn’t exist?”
Color drained from Drystan’s face. Isabel’s strength was deeper than rumor, and every strand of that cane carried spatial law sharp enough to tear through his defenses. Yet Enaricus’ cruelty loomed behind him, stiffening his spine. “Don’t force me, Isabel! If I let Jared go, the Third Hall’s commander will destroy me.”
“That is your business!” A ribbon of silver spiritual energy coiled around Isabel’s fingertip, bending space into a lethal arc. “Leave now with your men, or I will wipe out the Fourth Hall. Choose!”
Drystan read the murderous light in eyes, glanced at Jared, whom Kishor was helping upright, and finally ground out, “Very well… For the Fourth Hall Master’s sake, I withdraw today.”
He spun on the groaning guards.
“Useless wretches, move!” Flinging Jared a poisonous stare, led his battered troop into the sky in ragged retreat.
Only when Drystan’s aura vanished did Isabel release power. She produced four jade vials from storage pouch and handed them to Kishor. “These are Essence-Congealing Powder and Flesh-Renewing Balm. See to their wounds.”
Kishor accepted them, gratitude shining in his eyes. “Isabel, without you we’d all be corpses today.”
He passed the medicine around, then gently fed a pill to Alice, pained by pallor. Jared swallowed a pill himself; the stabbing in his chest eased. He clasped his hands to Isabel. “You have my deepest thanks. I don’t know how to repay the favor…”
Isabel watched bandage his ribs, then spoke softly. “The Fourth Hall’s commander bids me tell you this, there is no mortal enmity between you and the palace. The earlier insults from certain hall commanders were unfortunate. If you are willing to set blades aside, the Fourth Hall wishes to stand as your ally. Whatever storms come, we will stand beside you.”
