In three relentless months, Celestia City had regained nearly eighty percent of its former splendor. Boulevards bustled again, incense drifted from market stalls, and laughter, still tentative, threaded through the crowd. Yet beneath Aurelius’ calm exterior coiled a darker thought.
The Fire Demon Lord and the Soul Devourer had fled into the shadows. They would recover. They would return. When that happened, the kingdom might face devastation all over again.”
“King Aurelius, lost in thought?” a familiar voice teased from behind. Aurelius turned. Artemis stood there, clutching a scroll of fresh reports, moonlight eyes bright against the dust-filled air.
“Nothing urgent,” Aurelius replied with a measured smile. “Tell me, how fares the Herb Sect?”
“Remarkably well,” Artemis said, excitement curling voice. “Three months of bloodline fusion have boosted every disciple’s strength. We’ve even prepared another cohort-all eager for Mr. Chance’s assistance. Their progress should soar once guides them.”
Aurelius found himself at a loss for words. The Herb Sect had begun treating Jared like a walking fountain of sacred blood. Had the man possessed any less talent, the three-hundred-plus disciples of the Sect would have drained dry by now.
Artemis and Yuliana, in particular, had turned the sessions into a silent contest, each refusing to yield a second of Jared’s time. The rivalry left scrambling, exhausted and perpetually in demand.
Just then, Jared stepped out of the tower’s shadow, robe unfastened at the throat, eyes dulled by equal parts fatigue and determination.
Artemis’ face lit up. She hurried over, whispering, “Mr. Chance, I’ve recruited several more disciples, each talented, each untainted. If you could just…”
“Please… Please let me breathe,” Jared muttered, raising both hands in surrender before could finish. “I’m running on fumes.”
Aurelius interjected, “Let rest, Artemis. The man’s practically skin and bones…”
“Exactly,” Yuliana chimed, arriving at a brisk stride. “One man against hundreds of your demands, no wonder he’s wasting away.”
She moved to Jared’s side, expression soft with concern as steadied by the elbow, shielding from yet another eager petition.
“Ms. Fiala, you have clung to Mr. Chance for three straight days and nights,” Artemis said, voice as frigid as frost. “Aren’t you afraid his body, and his patience, might finally give out?”
“And you, Artemis? Haven’t you been glued to for the exact same three days and nights?” Yuliana shot back, the violet in eyes flaring like sparks on dry tinder.
Their words crashed together, heat meeting ice, until the courtyard rang with accusations that tumbled over one another in a rising storm.
Jared glanced at Aurelius, a silent plea flashing between them, then slipped away before the next volley of barbs could find a new target.
He hurried across marble walkways toward Flaxseed’s quarters, determined to sit with the old rogue and discuss a plan for locating the Malevolent Path Hall.
But the room was empty, no smell of coffee, no cheerful snoring, only hollow silence stretching beneath the eaves. On the low table rested a single envelope, edges still damp with sealing wax that smelled faintly of pine.
Jared, by the time you read this, I will already have left level six, bound for level seven to chase the souls of my clan.
The Malevolent Path Hall is trouble incarnate, and I refuse to drag you into that fire. Your strength still needs tempering.
Grow stronger. When you are truly ready, we’ll settle accounts together. Until then, guard your life and trust no one lightly.
The letter fell from Jared’s fingers. Gratitude, anger, worry-every flavor bled together until could taste nothing but copper on his tongue.
“Flaxseed, you stubborn old fox!” yelled toward the empty rafters. “Did you think abandoning me would earn my thanks? Do you have any idea how much I’ll worry about you now?!”
Even as the words echoed, warmth crowded his heart, the hermit alchemist remained one of the few friends who had walked with from the mortal realm, through secret worlds, all the way to the heavens.
Flaxseed had lifted more times than Jared could count, and Jared would not, could not, let misfortune claim the man. Whatever it costs, I’ll keep safe!
Resolve locked into place like steel; would ascend to level seven and drag Flaxseed back alive.
