Jared studied the man, average height, clear eyes, the familiar garb of countless swordsmen who drifted through the city each day.
“I simply saw those Sword Sect disciples showing off. Thought I’d stroll over and have a friendly word, that’s all. Why are you stopping me?” Jared halted, confusion rippling across his features.
A quick sweep of his gaze took in the Sword Sect disciples swaggering in bright uniforms. Their brazen display struck Jared as reckless.
Swordmaster City, Ararat Goizeder’s stronghold, was generous ground for the Sword Sect, true, but there were boundaries even hospitality should not cross.
“Those men are Sword Guards, keepers of order in Swordmaster City. Step too close, and one of them might choose to keep order with the edge of a blade.” The stranger spoke mildly, as though reciting the weather.
“Sword Guards?” Jared’s brows arched. “Is this not Ararat’s city? Since when did Sword Sect disciples police the streets?”
The man let his eyes travel from Jared’s boots to the crown of his head, a slow appraisal that ended in a thin smile. “How long has it been since you last set foot inside these walls?”
“Quite some time,” Jared admitted, unembarrassed.
“Then hear the news,” the man went on, voice easing into the practiced cadence of a guide.
“Swordmaster City now belongs to the Sword Sect. Mr. Goizeder has wandered off to pursue higher cultivation. The Sword Sect’s reach is vast; people flock here daily, begging to join. Tell me, are you looking to wear our colors as well?” He tilted his head, genuinely curious.
Jared blinked, surprised. He had never imagined Ararat would hand an entire city to the sect. Jared himself was from the Sword Sect, yes, but even he found the gesture astonishingly bold.
Seeing Jared’s silence, the man leaned closer.
“Strength alone won’t secure you a spot. You’ll need connections. See those Sword Guards? Becoming one costs at least one hundred thousand celestial gems, and you still require someone powerful to pull the right strings.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Bribes just to enlist?” Jared’s mind reeled, the notion almost absurd.
Only a short while ago, the sect had been on the brink of collapse, few disciples, fewer resources, no hopeful faces at the gate. Now people lined up, favors in hand and coin purses open.
“Of course,” the man said, warming to his theme. “Here on level five, no force rivals Swordmaster City, and within these walls the sect rules supreme. A disciple named Jared Chance led an assault that wiped the Sacred Sword Manor from the map. Since that day, no one on level five dares challenge us, which is why every up-and-comer scurries here searching for patronage.”
The more he spoke, the more animated he became, as if he himself had swung a blade in that legendary purge.
“So, you’ve met this Jared Chance?” Jared asked, lips curling with a half-smile.
“Met him? Certainly!” The man’s eyes gleamed, voice lowering to a reverent hush. “But he moves like a shadow. After destroying the manor, he vanished. I glimpsed him once, nothing like ordinary folk. He stood nearly nine meters tall. The sword in his grip stretched more than three meters. With a single stroke, he obliterated every expert in that manor, carving an open scar through the very void itself.”
The stranger painted the tale with sweeping gestures and hushed awe, his words so vivid that each detail felt projected onto the afternoon air, swords flashing under sun-washed skies, Jared’s name ringing like legend born before their very eyes.
Jared listened, bemused yet fascinated, as though the storyteller’s breath alone could summon the impossible.
A laugh escaped Jared, warm, full, impossible to hide. Delight shimmered behind his eyes, even if every sentence was blatant invention, hearing wild myths spun in his honor still tasted sweet, like secretly sampling victory before any duel had begun.
“Friend, I never imagined you’d actually met this Jared Chance in the flesh,” he said. “If that’s true, does it mean you once trained under the Sword Sect as well?”
The man blinked, caught off guard, then scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “Not exactly. Joining the Sword Sect costs ten thousand celestial gems. I scraped the sum together, sure, but without the right contact to vouch for me, the gates stayed shut.”
Jared’s brow arched. “So everyone pays up front… And still needs influence to get inside?”
