“So the crusade began,” he continued, the cavern air quivering with memory. “I hunted anyone linked to her sect, cutting them down one by one until even the Seventh Heaven whispered my name in terror. Yet no river of blood could mend the hollow she left behind. I have lost her forever…”
Emotion strangled the rest of his words. Tears shimmered in his eyes, quivering on the rim of a soul that no longer possessed flesh.
Jared listened in silence, sorrow and awe swelling inside him like twin tides. He had never imagined that the roguish Vermilion Demon Lord carried a love story this fierce and unforgotten.
Jared’s gaze slid to a shadowed corner where two simple heart shapes had been scratched into the stone. A faint, sacred pulse seemed to seep from those childish lines.
He stepped closer, fingertips hovering above the grooves, sensing the thinnest ripple of spiritual power dancing across the rock.
“Take a look at these hearts,” Jared murmured, pointing. “There’s something unusual about them…”
“What do you mean unusual?” the Vermilion Demon Lord was taken aback. “A trace of spiritual energy is still woven through each outline. These aren’t mere doodles.”
“I… I feel nothing,” Vermilion Demon Lord admitted. “But I am only a fragment now.”
“Your soul is a wisp, of course, you can’t,” Jared said, brushing the carving. “Selene hid a message here, one you never saw.”
The spirit fell into troubled silence. Decades had passed, and whatever secret Selene planted lay beyond his memory’s reach. Seeing his struggle, Jared sighed, knowing the mystery would not surrender easily.
“Enough for now. Return to my consciousness field before your remnant fades further. Rest, so we can one day rebuild your body.”
At his command, the crimson wisp flowed back into Jared’s mind, vanishing like smoke drawn into a lantern.
Left alone, Jared entered Pentacarna Tower and began cultivating. Myles’ storage pouch brimmed with resources, exactly what he needed. Rowena led several disciples through the misted pass, hurrying toward the Nethergate Sect’s encampment.
“Rowena, we were ordered to escort Jared Chance back to the Nethergate Sect. If we return without him, won’t the master punish us?”
“Soul Devourer… Fire Demon Lord… Tell me, which of those nightmares could any of us possibly withstand?”
The question struck the disciple dumb, his lips moved, yet no answer emerged.
“Moments ago, we sensed a handful of auras at the peak of Human Immortal Realm, Level Nine. Do you truly believe we could survive foes of that caliber?”
Once more, silence became the only reply.
“When we return, say nothing. I will tell Master that Jared Chance was ambushed and that we failed to defend him. Master can hardly fault us for that. Besides, should we drag Jared into Nethergate Sect, every monster hunting him will follow—and our entire sect would be wiped from the earth.”
“We will follow your lead, Rowena!” the disciples answered in unison. Rowena nodded. She had challenged Myles Moffat earlier, only to seize Jared for the sect, yet Jared had casually mentioned offending Soul Devourer and the Fire Demon Lord.
Those names alone froze the blood in Rowena’s veins. The peak-realm experts chasing Jared proved his enemies were far beyond the Nethergate Sect’s reach. Sheltering him would invite utter ruin.
Yes, Jared had burned a Golden Pass, Nethergate’s pledge of sanctuary. Yet every pledge fractures before overwhelming force; gold-inked promises mean little when power is lacking.
