He pressed a light kiss to her forehead. “It’s late, I should be heading back…” Before withdrawing, she caught his lips in a lingering brush that carried the rest of her sentence. “Don’t go to the Guest Reception Annex,” she pleaded, cheeks flushing. “Stay in my quarters. We can study the scrolls together anytime.”
Color flooded her face as the words tumbled out, but she held his eyes, determination shining through the pink. Jared chuckled, voice low. “Scrolls, hm? Or are we planning to research something a bit more personal?”
He gave her crimson cheek a playful pinch that made her squeak and bury her face again. Hearing this, Rania hid against his chest, arms tightening. Jared felt the familiar shift—the way a woman, once surrendered, cleaved to the man who held her first.
Hard lessons collected from the mundane world, the secret realm, the Ethereal Realm, and even the celestial realm had etched that truth into him. Dozens of liaisons had made him an expert, or so he liked to believe.
Over the following days, dawn often found them tangled in silken sheets inside her fragrant chambers, the outside world forgotten. The ornate boudoir, all carved jade screens and drifting incense, became the secret realm for whispered laughter and unrestrained delight, night and day blurring together.
Having tasted passion, Rania clung to him with near-constant devotion, unwilling to leave his side even for an hour. She drank in every lesson he offered, eyes shining when arcane diagrams unfolded under his fingers, then darkening with heady bliss when their energies intertwined.
Jared‘s motive reached beyond pleasure; each union drew strands of her umbral essence into his own chaotic force, tempering it, strengthening it. Dual cultivating with Rania—a natural spirit body trained in Jade Immortal Manor’s Umbral Cultivation Method—let energies fuse perfectly, fortifying his foundation and sharpening his power like a freshly whetted blade.
Under his guided techniques, her cultivation surged, a fact she sensed each time their breathing synced, driving her devotion to flare hotter, wilder, unstoppable.
Following Rania into the storeroom, he saw rows of sealed jade cases left unlocked. Spiritual energy thrummed against his skin, promising medicines, metals, and secrets he had previously only read about. Whenever a steward passed, Jared displayed an ancient scroll, discussing script verification or lost elixirs. The pretext secured rare herbs, spirit ores, and even mid-level treasury manuals.
But every gain tasted faintly of urgency. The softness of Rania’s chambers, the laughter, the free-flowing supplies—all of it felt like silk stretched over a blade. Sooner or later the silk would tear. Julian would notice first; Jared pictured the manor lord’s cold eyes narrowing. Other factions inside the manor would whisper next. Suspicion, once seeded, grew faster than weeds in spiritual soil.
He needed power before that whisper became a roar. Investigation, cultivation, escape routes—everything had to move now, not tomorrow.
Hours later, after their bodies cooled, Rania lay draped across his chest. Her hair brushed his ribs with every breath. She traced slow circles over the muscle there, eyelids half-closed, lips curved in a hazy smile.
Jared stroked her sleek back and said softly, “Rania, I’ve been studying an ancient art that requires absolute stillness. Your suite is lovely, yet maids wander and the aura feels chaotic.”
Her head snapped up, worry chasing away the languor. “Then what should we do? I’ll ask Father to grant you the best seclusion chamber right now!”
Jared smiled, refusing the offer with a mild shake. He turned his hand over. A miniature tower, ancient and solemn, surfaced in his palm, glowing faintly. Neither metal nor jade, the little tower gleamed dark gold. Layers of cryptic runes crawled over its walls, each stroke pulsing with the weight of heavens held at bay. Jared rarely let anyone glimpse the Pentacarna Tower; trust, or calculated trust, had just redrawn that boundary.
Rania’s breath hitched. “This…”
The half-formed question trembled between them. Widened eyes drank in the artifact’s aura; even without training, she sensed a relic beyond ordinary grade.
“It’s the Pentacarna Tower, a treasure I chanced upon,” Jared said, voice gentle. “Inside is a universe of its own, and the flow of time shifts against the outside… A hundred days of training within equal a single day out here. Activating it, however, drains me, and secrecy is vital.” He met her gaze. “Will you enter with me? We‘ll share more hours together and unravel those manuscripts faster.”
A hundred days inside, one outside—the notion slammed into her like thunder. Rania simply stared, lips parted, awe eclipsing every other expression. Even among myths of level thirteen, treasures that bent time were whispers, never proofs. That Jared possessed one and offered to share struck her like the sweetest vow. Color flooded her cheeks; moisture shimmered along her lashes as if gratitude had nowhere else to go. She clove against his chest, voice catching. “Jared… You’re too good to me. I’ll do anything, as long as we’re together!”
He wrapped her close, letting silence carry what he chose not to say; his eyes remained dark, unreadable. Yes, the tower would bind her faster and temper his own growth, but lifting the lid for her also gambled with one of his greatest cards. If conflict with Julian erupted, he’d need Rania planted firmly at his flank, not wavering in the middle.
“No one can learn about this, not even your father,” he said, weight filling each syllable.
“I understand! Our secret, just ours!” She nodded hard, eyes shining. Rania’s entire body answered the vow; she nodded once, slow and intent, sweetness softening the resolve in her gaze.
Night dropped. Jared layered several isolation seals around the apartment until sound and Qi both lay flat. Only then did he summon the Pentacarna Tower. The relic drank the air and stretched, rising to a three-story giant; misty light spilled from the open door at its base. Hand in hand, they crossed the glowing threshold.
Expectation of cramped stone fell away. Instead, a boundless void rolled out beneath a phantom sun and moon; ridge lines, rivers, and embryonic seas drifted in newborn light. The air here tasted crystalline, threaded with a rhythm that tugged at the marrow, urging comprehension of laws unsaid.
“Amazing…” Rania spun like a child in her first snowfall, wonder echoing against invisible walls. Jared guided her toward a platform near the central altar, a zone he had carved out for cultivation. Chaotic force seeped through the ground, merging with energy currents he had woven, perfect for the paired practice he intended.
Inside this realm, hours multiplied like rabbits; time felt almost lavish. Seasons seemed to drift overhead while the outside world barely breathed. Apart from brief rest and tender interludes, the two poured every moment into cultivation. From the scrolls he had dissected earlier, Jared picked the most compatible arts and explored them side by side with Rania, testing, refining, and perfecting.
He knelt opposite Rania on the silver disk. Each breath pulled her cool lunar current into his chest and pushed his searing solar force back into her. The currents spiraled faster, collided, then melted together until the air hummed around them. Insight darted through his mind, bright and sharp, every clash sketching a fresh path toward the Dao.
Across from him, Rania’s aura thickened by the hour. The once-misty light along her spine condensed into a clear six-petaled star that beat with her heart. She was brushing the sixth-tier threshold, a leap that should have taken decades outside the tower. Yet the surge inside Jared felt even vaster.
Each breath left his limbs heavier with power, his thoughts razor-bright. His chaotic force, once an untamed ocean, soaked up her dark-moon energy and settled into denser waves. When he flexed a finger, the air rippled like stretched silk.
None of it would matter without supplies. With Rania beside him, storerooms opened, herbs arrived, and manuals surfaced the instant he asked. He meant to pull every strand of value from that kindness.
Inside those stolen days, he polished every flaw in his seventh-tier core. The moment the last imperfection vanished, the boundary shattered like thin ice, letting him stride into the eighth tier. Power kept rising until it jammed against the realm’s upper edge and held fast.
