Only when the scene reeked of demonic violence did he fade back into the darkness, certain that the forged command now had a battlefield to match its words.
Jared set the last piece of evidence—a vicious-looking demonic relic once carried by the Infinite Soul Demon Sect—squarely in the middle of the blood-spattered floor. The instant his fingers left the cold metal, he dissolved into the shadows. Not a hair, not a heartbeat, remained to say he had ever stood there.
Now came the true stroke of artistry: arranging for that forged command tablet to land in the hands of the Mystic Sky Sword Sect’s leaders with just enough shock to ignite their temper. Subtle hints would not do. Jared opted for spectacles.
He drew on his command of spatial energy and drifted over the sect’s outer sentries the way mist slides past treetops.
Alarms, patrols, even the grand array guarding the sect—none sensed the intruder as he glided straight to a meditation chamber belonging to a high-ranking Inner Elder.
At the threshold, he placed the counterfeit device where no eye could miss it. One flick of his nail released a thread of frigid soul energy that perfectly mimicked the signature of Sheldon Soulsby’s cult.
Buzz! Inside, the meditating elder’s eyes burst open, steel-bright. “Who dares intrude?!”
He flashed to the corridor, spirit sense pouring out like liquid silver, but found only silence and the device glimmering on the threshold.
Exactly as Jared had plotted, each link of the chain now snapped into the next, and the entire scheme hurtled forward beyond any hope of reversal.
Within Skycrest Hall of the Mystic Sky Sword Sect’s forbidden heart, Linden Cloudridge held the device between thumb and forefinger. His face was dark.
Again and again, his vast spiritual sense combed the device. Every pass confirmed the same horrors: Sheldon’s soul-corroding aura, an unmistakable tone of command, and a blueprint to cripple the core node of the array.
With each discovery, his fury sharpened until the air itself seemed to hiss.
The elders filling the marble floor had already heard of the border outpost’s massacre. Now, listening to the message’s contents, they trembled with rage.
“Sheldon Soulsby dares plot an inside-out assault on our sect? That is a wound to our roots, unforgivable! No wonder their legions keep shuffling along the frontier. They build a false road to mask a dagger’s thrust! The outpost strike was only their scouting knife. Master, if we hesitate now, their pincer will close, and Mystic Sky will fall. We must strike first—tonight!”
Their clamor was still climbing when the doors flew wide.
“Report!” a courier cried, breath frosting in the hall’s chilled aura. “The main forces of the Infinite Soul Demon Sect have marched off Blood-Scar Plains. Multiple scouts confirm their vanguard is steering straight for the Myriad Sword Mountains!”
That single report was the spark that reached the powder.
Linden surged from his throne. Until that moment, his sword aura had slept, coiled. Now a forest of invisible blades roared free, slicing the air with a chorus of shrieks.
Elders flinched as stinging currents pricked their skin, proof that their leader’s patience had been carved away.
The calm in Linden’s eyes shattered. What remained was a storm-gray glare steeped in rage and a savage resolve that scorched like molten iron.
“Infinite Soul Demon Sect… You deceive too much!” Linden roared, his voice shaking the hall’s foundation. “You butcher my disciples, mock my ancestors, and now you dare march on my gates? Very well! If you want war, the Mystic Sky Sword Sect will give you an apocalypse!”
He drew the Cloud-Severing Sword from his waist and pointed it at the ceiling.
“ALL DISCIPLES HEAR MY ORDER!”
His voice was amplified by the sect’s grand array, booming across every peak, valley, and training ground within a thousand miles.
“The Demon Sect comes to destroy us! We shall not wait to be slaughtered! Activate the Myriad Sword Formation! Every disciple above the Foundation Establishment Realm, draw your blades! Tonight, we paint the sky red with demon blood!”
SHING!
It was a sound like tearing silk, multiplied by ten thousand.
From every peak of the Myriad Sword Mountains, beams of white light shot into the sky. Disciples abandoned their meditation, grabbed their flying swords, and joined the river of light ascending into the heavens.
The killing intent was so pure, so sharp, that the clouds above the mountains were shredded into nothingness.
Hidden on a distant peak, wrapped in the shadows of the night, Jared watched the ocean of sword-light rise to meet the encroaching darkness of the Demon Sect.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a satisfied smile.
“The curtain rises,” he whispered to the wind. “Now, let the titans dance.”
