“Level Ten… Infinite Soul Demon Sect…” Jared murmured, the syllables flickering behind his eyes like sparks seeking tinder.
He knew that Level Ten towered far above Level Nine, a brutal realm where sects jostled like storm clouds, and power was the only law.
“Mr. Chance, Level Ten is a different sky,” Zevon said, his voice weighted with warning. “Heavenly Immortals stroll there the way merchants crowd a market. That Infinite Soul Demon Sect is no sanctuary; it is a nest of knives. Soul Devourer will flourish in such darkness. We must plan, not blunder in.”
“Level Ten is lethal,” Sylvia whispered, fingers tightening around Jared’s. “I cannot bear to see you face it alone.”
Jared’s gaze swept over them all, soft for a breath, then forged into iron resolve.
“Mr. Swanson, Sylvia, my decision is made. Soul Devourer is vindictive and sly. If I leave him unchecked, he will return and drench Level Nine in blood. The root of that threat must be cut. Besides, my path was never meant to end at Level Nine…”
“Stronger worlds and fiercer foes are what I crave. Level Ten is the next step. Zevon, Neville, Level Nine may appear calm, yet dark currents churn beneath the surface. The Nethergate Sect and the newborn Heaven Gate Sect need you to anchor them. The Draconian army must rest and grow. Your duty lies here.”
Turning to Sylvia, Jared let his voice fall to a gentler register. “Heaven Gate Sect is only an infant, every brick still wet. As its master, you cannot leave. Level Ten is an ocean of unknowns, and I refuse to let you brave that storm for my sake. Stay on Level Nine, cultivate Heaven Gate Sect, and wait for my return.”
He swung toward Coall, already pawing at the ground, and Cyanna, whose frosted eyes glimmered with quiet worry.
“Coall, Cyanna, the Draconian army is now in your hands. Stand with Sylvia, guard Level Nine, keep sharpening your strength. Once I have a foothold on Level Ten, I may yet summon you to my side.”
His strategy was crisp, each assignment sliding into place like well-cut stone.
Unease lingered in every face, yet they knew this was the only path that truly made sense.
Zevon exhaled a long, gravelly sigh. “Level Ten is nothing like this realm. Be cautious in all things; never force a point for pride’s sake. Your life must come first.”
Neville clapped Jared’s shoulder once, solid and sure. “Take care… Nethergate Sect will always stand behind you.”
Sylvia’s lashes shimmered with tears she refused to shed. “Just… come back alive!”
Coall rumbled in his barrel chest. “Relax, Mr. Jared. With me around, Level Nine won’t fall apart. You clear some land over there, and we’ll come share the spoils!”
Meanwhile, Cyanna said nothing, yet the silver flash in her eyes carried a thousand unspoken instructions and blessings.
Jared folded all that devotion into his heart and answered with a single, solemn nod.
He drew a breath deep enough to steady worlds. The Power of Immortals thundered through his veins as his hands carved fluid arcs in empty air, unlocking the lattice of space itself.
Humming energy swelled and then split the void. A warped corridor tore open, black edges shivering with instability.
Beyond the ragged mouth lay a haze-washed realm, wider and deadlier than Level Nine could ever dream: Level Ten.
Awoo!
The small Fire Unicorn on his shoulder sensed the rift, loosing a call that trembled between excitement and dread while its tiny claws clutched the fabric at Jared’s collar.
One last time Jared looked back—at friends, at the battlefield that had forged them, and at the realm he had bled to protect. Resolve hardened in his eyes.
“All of you, take care!”
He stepped into the swirling passage, his silhouette swallowed by chaotic light.
The little unicorn leapt after him, tail aflame with courage. The corridor flickered, spasmed, then knitted closed until nothing remained but still air and a faint metallic tang.
Only Zevon and the others remained inside Soulgrave Abyss, staring at the empty space where Jared had vanished, their silence as heavy as stone.
