Jared closed his eyes. Inside, the chaotic force roared like a river yet lay as deep as a star-strewn gulf. A breath later he sheathed its light.
On paper, Julian‘s upper-realm seventh grade should dwarf Jared’s eighth-grade celestial rank. But chaotic force’s supremacy, welded to a lifetime of fights, made the gap feel bridgeable. He felt ready to prove it. Still, he knew every gain was bought with the tower’s stretched hours. Without that, time would tighten again.
Beyond the chamber, scarcely two days had slipped by. At the third dawn, pale light brushed the curtains. Jared shrank the Pentacarna Tower to a thumb-sized relic and slid it under his sleeve. Hand in hand, he and Rania stepped into the corridor, spirits bright.
Their breaths synced, each exhale touching the other’s skin. Servants saw nothing but a young couple in love, unaware of the fathomless strength hidden under their calm smiles.
A wave of cold fury swept in, harsh as a winter gale. Pressure cinched Jared’s ribs and prickled the back of his neck. He tightened his grip on Rania’s hand. Frost filmed the railings. Maids collapsed, foreheads to the floor, shaking so hard their bracelets clinked.
Julian stood at the threshold, purple-gold robe flowing, hands folded behind his back. His face was iron-dark, his eyes cold lightning fixed on the pair. The sight of Rania‘s glowing cheeks and her easy closeness to Jared made the air twitch with rage.
He caught a flash of grim understanding in the lord’s stare; Elder Wood’s report about Rania breaking into the Library Pavilion with a strange man had clearly reached him already.
The nightly whispers about Jared sharing Rania‘s room clearly fueled that storm. In Julian’s eyes, Jared must be the thief who slipped through every guard and stole the manor’s treasure. Humiliation blazed behind that glare, hotter than any fire. Rules and pride lay shattered at the man’s feet, and every shard was aimed at Jared.
Julian’s gaze swept over Rania as though weighing changes only a master could read. His face tightened when he sensed her lost virgin energy and the unnaturally rapid surge in her cultivation.
He flicked back to Jared, eyebrows lifting at the mere eighth-grade aura he sensed. Confusion knitted his brow; the numbers refused to match the threat he felt. Unspoken questions churned behind the older man’s eyes.
“Father?” Rania’s voice cracked the hush. She stepped in front of Jared, shoulders taut, as if her slight frame could shield him.
A vein pulsed at Julian’s temple as his jaw locked. “Rania…” Julian said, voice like iced steel. “Come here…”
“Father, this is Mr. Chance… Jared… Mr. Fay invited him to help with the texts. He’s been invaluable to me…” Her explanation faded, courage draining from her tone.
“I said, come here!”
The words slammed outward, making the marble beneath their feet groan. A mountain’s weight barreled straight at Jared. Its purpose was plain: kneel, bleed, learn fear. The blow hit emptiness. Jared didn’t sway; he merely straightened his cuffs. The crushing force vanished inside him; only the pale hem of his robe fluttered.
Jared lifted his head and let lamplight strike his face. Julian’s icy stare met him, but Jared breathed steady and saluted. “Junior Jared greets Manor Lord Jade…”
His spine stayed straight; no challenge, no submission, only calm readiness in the set of his shoulders. Across that silence, Jared caught the tiny moment Julian’s pupils tightened, like blades focusing.
The Manor Lord’s fingers paused mid-air, suspicion flashing behind the hard glare. Still, no extra weight pressed down; the man’s brow creased, as if wondering why his aura had slipped off Jared like rain off oiled cloth.
Julian’s gaze swept Jared from boots to hair, measuring, recalculating, hunting for a flaw. The stare lingered on Jared’s sleeves, on the faint gray shimmer still fading there, as though trying to match it to a name.
“Father, what are you doing?!” Rania’s voice cracked through the tense air, sharp and frightened. Before Jared could answer, she flung her arms wide and planted herself in front of him, every silk fold trembling. “Jared is my guest! You can’t treat him like this!”
“Guest?” The Manor Lord let the word drag, thick with disbelief. Julian’s finger stabbed the air between them. “An unknown impostor, masking his realm, seducing my daughter, committing unspeakable indecencies! Such trash calls himself a guest here?!”
The accusation rang off the beams. “Rania, step aside! Tonight I will rid the world of this lecher!” The final word cracked like thunder.
The sentence had barely ended before Julian moved. His cloak snapped, his presence surging; no warning, only lethal resolve. Two fingers shaped a blade, and he carved through empty space in a swift downward arc. A strip of dark-gold light, edges tearing the very air, screamed toward Jared‘s face in a blink. The strike carried the Manor Lord’s rage, laced with the law of metal at close to full force.
“No!” Rania’s scream ripped out, raw and breaking. Without thinking, she spun and hurled herself toward Jared, arms spread, ready to take the blow herself.
A cold spark cut through Jared’s eyes—ice against iron. He had expected fury, not an immediate kill stroke; the speed of the attack sketched new lines across his plan. His left arm hooked around Rania’s waist, swinging her behind him as his right hand rose, fingers together. Gray chaos light gathered at the tips; he held his ground and met the onrushing blade with a single tap.
*Chi!*
The tiny sound was thin, almost polite. Not even a rumble followed; the chamber stayed eerily quiet. The dark-gold blade rippled, its edges sagging like wax under a noon sun. In a heartbeat it was gone—no light, no echo.
Color drained from Julian’s face, leaving marble veins at his temples. His lips parted, disbelief flickering as he re-balanced. He had used seven-tenths of his strength, yet the blow had been dispelled so easily! He stared at the fading gray afterglow, as though seeing something that shouldn’t exist. That unknown light had just eaten Celestial Metal energy whole.
Jared lowered his hand, keeping Rania shielded behind him. His voice stayed level. “Manor Lord Jade, Ms. Rania and I share genuine affection… hardly some sordid trick. To kill first and question later seems an odd definition of propriety.”
