“The Melded Beastkin?” Jared’s eyes narrowed, the syllables scraping out of his throat before he could leash them. “What in all heavens is that supposed to be?”
He forced himself to calm down. Even so, frost edged every word that followed. Jared had fought beside Paxton, Gavin, and Yvette. Not once had any of them spoken—at least, not in detail—of such a tribe. Linden Cloudridge lifted a calming palm, brows knitting in sympathy.
“Steady, my friend… The Melded Beastkin is a peculiarity inside the Myriad Beast Sect,” he said, voice pitched low, as though afraid the truth might bruise the air.
“Level Ten’s laws are odd. Whenever humans, demons, and beasts intermix, their descendants sometimes twist. These heirs inherit fragments of each blood-gift—raw strength, frightening vigor—yet their minds mature unevenly…”
“Emotion rules them first, reason a distant second. There are many of them in the sect, yet pure-blood beast clans keep them shackled to the lowest rungs: ditch work, gate duty, every task no one else will touch. And now… The Infinite Soul Demon Sect has sunk its claws precisely there. Such venomous strategy!”
Understanding struck Jared like a blade point to the ribs.
So that old devil Sheldon Soulsby chooses to repay me in kind. I incited the Mystic Sky Sword Sect against his sect, so he incites rebellion inside the Myriad Beast Sect…
How are Paxton, Gavin, and Yvette doing? And what about Bartram?
Where are they now? Are they hurt? Are they alive?
Worry caught fire in his heart, fusing with a surge of white-hot rage that sent his aura flaring like a banner in a gale.
“Master Cloudridge, I leave at once for the Myriad Beast Mountains!” Gone was the traveler who once lounged in easy humor.
Jared’s back was a drawn bow, his vow an arrow already screaming toward its mark. “Whatever is happening there, I will not stand aside.”
Linden had expected nothing less. He mulled it over, then inclined his head with grave respect. “Your loyalty is admirable. The facts are plain… The Melded Beastkin have aligned with the Infinite Soul Demon Sect…”
“Should that foothold harden, the Mystic Sky Sword Sect’s neighbor will no longer be a potential ally, but a Demon-forged stronghold. Flanked before and behind, our mountain would become a coffin. So, we have all the reasons to assist you…”
“I shall dispatch a strike squad,” he continued. “My daughter Clara will command them. They will escort you into the mountains, help seek Paxton’s whereabouts, and take the measure of this upheaval.”
“Father, wait! Me?!” Clara protested, spinning toward Jared as though he were an unexpected weight she refused to shoulder. “He’s only a Level Seven Human Immortal! What could he possibly contribute? Am I meant to drag him around and keep him breathing? I’m not going!”
“Enough!” Linden’s rebuke cracked like winter ice. “You know nothing of Mr. Chance’s true strength. On the Blood-Scar Plains, even Sheldon Soulsby recoiled from a single palm of his—dozens of disciples watched that very moment. It can’t be an act!”
“You will follow him to learn from him, and to represent our sect to form an alliance with him and what remains of the Myriad Beast Sect. The fate of our sect is bigger than your whims!”
Color drained from Clara’s cheeks. At the mention of Sheldon being struck by Jared, disbelief warred with reluctant awe across her features.
She let her gaze rake over Jared again, trying—and failing—to reconcile that ordinary frame with the legend her father declared incontrovertible. But the iron in her father’s tone left no room to doubt.
She exhaled, squared her shoulders, and, though her pride smarted, gave the faintest nod. She bit hard on her lower lip.
For a breath, she looked ready to revolt, then her shoulders sank. “Yes, Father… I’ll obey…”
Jared, already thinking of the Myriad Beast Sect, ignored Clara’s attitude. He offered Linden a crisp bow. “Thank you for lending your strength, Master Cloudridge. Time is tight; we should depart at once.”
“Agreed…” Linden’s voice rang across the courtyard like tempered steel. “Clara, choose twenty keen disciples—silent feet, steady nerves, skilled in tracking and concealment. From this moment on, Jared is your field commander. Obey him without question.”
Clara’s jaw tightened. “Understood…” She turned on her heel, but not before throwing Jared a glare sharp enough to draw blood.
