An hour of steady trekking brought them to a secluded valley where the wind fell quiet and raw cliffs muffled distant chatter. Here, cultivators were scarce, only a few solitary figures sifted through rubble, their movements slow, methodical, tired.
Sylvia glanced around, then spoke softly. “Mr. Chance, let’s rest here and listen for rumors while we can.” Jared had already reached the same conclusion. He still needed a lead on the whereabouts of the elusive Celestial King.
They found a narrow cave half-hidden behind thorny brush. Sylvia raised a simple sound-dampening array; the air inside settled into hushed stillness.
“Wait for me here,” Jared said, keeping his voice gentle. “I won’t be long.”
Concern flickered across Sylvia’s eyes. “Where exactly are you going?”
“Just scouting for information,” he replied with an easy smile. “I’ll be back before the incense burns down.”
With that small promise, Jared slipped out of the cave and into the paling daylight, footsteps light against moss and stone.
He did not venture far. A middle-aged rogue cultivator rested on a slab of granite nearby, shoulders slumped, breath uneven with fatigue.
Dust streaked the man’s rough travel cloak; his eyes were half-closed, as though every muscle ached from days of fruitless searching.
Jared approached and offered a courteous nod. “Fellow cultivator, a moment of your time, please…”
The man straightened, wariness flashing. “What do you want?”
“I’m Jared Chance, new to this territory. I’m hoping you can help me with a question or two.” As he spoke, Jared produced a high-grade celestial gem, its pale light catching the rogue’s hungry gaze.
Greed flickered and quickly hid behind false dignity.
“Ask,” the man said, forcing composure. “If I know the answer, it’s yours.”
“Many thanks,” Jared replied, offering a respectful dip of his head. “Have you heard whether a Celestial King from the Celestial Palace, one who stands at level eight, has arrived in these ruins recently?”
The rogue cultivator blinked, puzzled, then shook his head. “Can’t say I have. But plenty of major figures are crawling around here. The great sects of level eight have each sent their own.”
Jared’s shoulders sagged, disappointment flickering across his eyes, yet his tone remained courteous as he pressed on. “Have you perhaps heard of anything out of the ordinary recently? A man being hunted, maybe, or some violent clash in these parts?”
The middle-aged cultivator rubbed the grey stubble along his jaw, eyes narrowing in thought. “Well, there was one thing… About a month back, in that valley over yonder, I saw several disciples from the Celestial Palace escorting somebody, and every one of them looked wound tight as a bowstring.”
Jared’s ears pricked. “Disciples of the Celestial Palace?”
Without waiting, he stepped closer, voice dropping. “Which direction did they take?”
“They headed deeper into the range,” the man said, lifting an arm toward the dark, saw-toothed peaks looming behind him. “But it’s treacherous in there. People say savage demon beasts prowl those slopes; ordinary travelers keep their distance.”
“I appreciate the warning…” Jared inclined his head in genuine thanks.
He drew several pristine high-grade celestial gems from his sleeve, each one pulsing with milky light, and pressed them into the man’s calloused palm. “A small thank-you…”
The cultivator’s face split into an astonished grin. He clutched the stones to his chest, bowing repeatedly. “Thank you, friend, thank you!”
Jared strode away, boots crunching over broken shale.
In his mind, pieces of the puzzle began to click. Disciples guarding someone and heading for the heart of the mountains; it matched every rumor about the Celestial King’s hidden entourage. Rather than return empty-handed, he questioned several more wanderers.
Their tales echoed the first, each pointing to the same anxious procession. Everything suggested the Celestial King was still lurking somewhere in the range’s shadowed interior.
As he finally turned toward camp, a silhouette crossed the trail, a figure he recognized at once.
It was the black-robed cultivator he had met at the mountain’s base earlier that day, the one whose stare had crawled across his skin.
The man noticed Jared as well. Malice flashed like a knife behind his eyes, but he pivoted and melted into the passing crowd.
Jared’s lips curved in a chill, knowing smile.
So, someone has decided I’m worth following…
He brushed off the notion. Unless the spy was a Heavenly Immortal Realm expert, and few were, he could handle whatever came.
He slipped back into the narrow limestone cave. Sylvia sat cross-legged in the glow of a spirit lamp, aura steady as falling snow. The moment his foot scuffed the stone, her eyes opened, clear, alert.
“Mr. Chance, have you uncovered anything?” Sylvia asked, her voice soft yet edged with expectation.
“A few threads, nothing concrete yet. I still need to verify them… Ms. Vale, when do we seek the entrance to those ruins?” he asked.
