He steadied his shoulders. “Senior, I understand…” The words felt smaller than the vow behind them. He drew a slow, cooling breath. “I’ll hold back for now and keep sharpening myself. But Malevolent Path Hall won’t stay crippled forever. The moment they heal, they’ll come again.”
Knowledge of that truth crawled beneath his ribs, heavier because he could expect no rescue. Mr. Stone, so formidable yet strangely absent since the celestial realm, had never shown himself twice. Maybe he was trapped, maybe unwilling. Either way, Jared was on his own.
Sidney’s leathered, scarred chin tipped once, as though ticking off a ledger. “Exactly… We’ll keep shaking every branch, every ally, every rumor, while we probe the Door of Reincarnation for a crack. Meanwhile, Mr. Chance, you must climb faster.”
His gaze dropped to the dark veining on the back of Jared’s hand. “Your fusion has barely crossed the threshold. To let it roar, you’re still leagues away. I can give a shove, but the true doorway has to be found by you.”
The woman beside him, quiet until now, lightly touched Sidney’s sleeve. Her voice flowed like cold spring water. “Sidney, have you forgotten the clue to that Ancient Energy Refiners’ Abode? It might help Mr. Chance.”
Sidney snapped his fingers, embarrassment flickering across his eyes. “Right… Nearly forgot. I stumbled on a hint in some ruins—directions to a chamber the Ancient Energy Refiners left behind ages ago… Their methods were raw and powerful, masters at blending alien energies like molten ore. If you reach that vault, you could finish your fusion, maybe vault upward in a single stroke. But the route is hidden, and every footstep bites.”
A spark knifed through Jared’s eyes. If that legacy could weld his four forces quicker—maybe carry him to Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Six, or Seven even—then a restored Malevolent Path Hall or the Lord of Reincarnation might finally be mortal.
“Senior, where is this abode?” The question left him before caution could pull it back.
Sidney answered with silence. He raised a single finger; starlight bled from the gesture and knitted itself into a faint, hovering map. Most of the ghostly expanse blurred like wet ink, but one corner glowed beneath a rune shaped like a coiled storm—part cloud spiral, part primordial furnace.
“This point sits on the extreme western rim of Level Twelve,” Sidney said, tapping the rune. “It drifts in a fissure beside the Void Gale Belt, where winds slice through broken space. Shards of time float there. Mistaken paths swallow entire sects… The portal lies inside a calm shard called the Eye of the Return-to-Void. It looks like a hidden orchard; it feels like a meat grinder.”
His gaze sharpened on Jared. “Your fused energies may shrug off some of the rot, but the Refiners’ wards strike at the core. Enter only if you trust your essence. Opportunity is born in danger, I know.” He clasped his fists, spine unbending.
Resolve coursed through Jared’s limbs, hot and level. Retreat had been burned from his vocabulary long ago.
The Vermilion Demon Lord bared serrated teeth. “Sounds delightful. I’m coming.”
Jared returned the grin with a nod. If the demon tagged along, perhaps the Nine-Orifice Divine Soul Herb would finally appear. The star map folded into a thumb-sized, pale-gray token, neither metal nor jade. Sidney placed it in Jared’s palm. “Feed it your force; near the zone, it will guide you. Whether you breach the Eye and find the abode depends on strength—and on luck.”
The token breathed with an ancient, murky pulse. Jared folded his fingers around it, accepting the weight of a new promise. He held the half-packed satchel against his knee, the straps still warm from his palms. The pause before departure let old questions leak back in: how was the celestial hierarchy arranged, and who exactly were Sidney and his wife?
The *why* clanged louder than the tools at his belt, and before caution could reclaim his tongue, he stepped toward Sidney. “Senior Sidney, I can’t thank you and your lady enough for what you’ve done… Where are the two of you cultivating these days within the twelve-level sky? If I ever need to repay the favor, I’d like to know where to find you.”
Sidney exchanged a glance with his wife, their eyes touching in some silent language Jared couldn’t even guess at. “Mr. Chance, there’s no need for formality. We’ve never been long-term residents of the twelve levels.”
*Not long-term?* The word snagged like a burr; Jared froze halfway into a nod. “You haven’t?”
Sidney’s smile stayed gentle, but something vast moved behind it. “That’s right. My wife and I journeyed here from Level Thirteen.”
*Level Thirteen?* The syllables felt like a stone dropping through his stomach. “Level Thirteen?!”
Beside him, Aurelian, Blaine, and the other sect masters stopped breathing for a heartbeat, their surprise mirroring his own. Jared knew they had reason; everyone who sat at the summit of Level Twelve understood the thirteenth existed—and understood, too, that strength alone was never the key that unlocked its gate.
Aurelian cleared his throat, his voice softer than usual. “Uhm… Friend, would you mind telling us how you reached Level Thirteen?”
Jared looked between them, bewildered. “Isn’t it as simple as opening a void tunnel? That’s how I went from Level One all the way here.”
Aurelian and Blaine both shook their heads, the motion slow and identical, as if rehearsed. The answer only thickened Jared’s fog; even the usually unflappable Vermilion Demon Lord looked as though someone had swapped the horizon on him.
