Jared listened, mind racing beneath a mask of calm. Aligning with Julian meant colossal risk; if exposed, neither would survive. Yet the gains were clear: an ally inside the celestials’ domain and a thread of hope for the Morse couple.
Big wagers didn’t scare Jared; vengeance had already mortgaged his life. He stood and crossed the last step between them. Jared extended his hand. His voice rang steady. “Your honesty earns respect. The Morse debts will be paid, and the celestials’ secrets unearthed.”
He tightened the offered handshake. “When the moment comes, we’ll stand together, for the manor and for everyone crushed under level thirteen’s weight.”
Jared clasped Julian’s hand. Julian’s palm felt dry, his grip iron-tight, as though he wanted the pressure to brand the agreement onto skin. Jared held on for a single heartbeat, aware of how fragile the alliance was, yet feeling it lock into place all the same.
Heat churned in Jared’s chest, rising behind a mask of composure. The promise changed nothing; the flames of revenge and inquiry only licked higher, demanding more than a single handclasp could offer.
Hurting Clive once had been a start, not a finish. Jared needed the envoy broken, stripped, exploited; only then would the scales begin to balance. To do that, he had to reach the celestials‘ marrow, not just bruise their skin.
He released Julian’s hand, drew in a slow breath, then spoke in a low, steady voice. “Manor Lord Jade…” Jared’s fingers fell away completely. His gaze sharpened, bright as a brand. “Will Clive head straight back to the Divine Punishment Hall once he leaves?”
Julian shook his head, the motion firm but careful. “No… His run is a routine collection of offerings and soul crystals across the eastern region. Jade Immortal Manor is only one stop… By protocol, he’ll continue to the next site, Profound Ice Valley in the northern reach—finish all errands, and only then return to make his report.”
Jared tasted the name, then pressed on. “Profound Ice Valley… how long until he gets there?”
Julian pinched his brows, thinking. “Half a day if he pushes, a full day if he drags. The Jade Phoenix carriage is fast, but he’s hauling tribute and must follow checkpoints. He can’t rush it.” A crease formed between Julian’s eyes; realization dawned. He muttered, “Jared, you’re not thinking of…”
Jared cut him off with a single word. “Exactly.”
Frost glittered in Jared’s eyes. “I want the envoy to stay in that gorge, for good. After that, I’ll borrow his face.”
Julian blurted, “Absolutely not!” His expression tightened, voice sinking. “Clive is Upper-Immortal sixth tier and a trained celestial elite. He isn’t someone you simply pick off. He travels with dozens of celestial guards, none of them mediocre. You hurt him once, but in a straight fight the outcome is uncertain… And if a celestial envoy dies out there, the Divine Punishment Hall will rage. They’ll send stronger hunters, and the blowback will be catastrophic!”
Jared, however, looked completely sure. “Manor Lord, spare yourself the worry. In a head-on clash, I know my chances. Since I’ve chosen to stand against the celestials, I buried my life long ago… If wearing Clive’s skin lets me slip into their strongholds, learn what they hide, and reach the truth about soul crystals, that risk is worth every drop.” He paused, staring straight at Julian. “Besides, this is step one of our pact, isn’t it? If I can’t finish a wounded Clive, how could I ever shake the celestials?”
Julian found himself staring back, unsettled by the calm, colossal confidence in the young man‘s eyes. This youth wasn’t just reckless; he was hiding resources Julian still couldn’t see. Maybe, just maybe, Jared could truly pull it off…
After a long hush, a gambler‘s glint lit Julian’s eyes. He had already placed a stake; why not wager the whole board?
“Fine!” Julian said, voice firm as a blade strike. “Once Clive leaves Jade Immortal City, his path to Profound Ice Valley cuts straight through Blackwind Gorge… The terrain there is vicious—chaotic aura, spatial tears—perfect for an ambush. I’ll give you a detailed route map.” He hesitated, then lowered his voice. “Make it a one-strike kill… No survivors, no trace… Remember, Clive carries emergency artifacts keyed to the hall. Pin his soul in an instant, or he’ll signal or self-detonate.”
“Understood…” Jared dipped his chin, sealing the promise, and let the plan settle like a stone inside his mind. The Soulsearch Technique had always been part of the design. He wouldn’t merely kill; he would harvest every memory Clive possessed.
The two of them bent over the map for another stretch, hammering out timing, signals, and fallback points. Julian slid a marked chart across the table and listed the envoy’s probable lifesaving charms and emergency seals. Once the plan felt airtight, Jared retreated into the Pentacarna Tower.
Inside, time flowed differently; days dripped away while he adjusted meridians, refined the dual-cultivation gains with Rania, and drove his combat edge to a new peak. Outside, barely half a day ticked by; within the tower, several dozen had already turned over.
Dawn still lingered when Jared slipped out of Grace Pavilion. The guards, lulled by false calm, never sensed the shadow gliding past. Jared streaked toward Blackwind Gorge, his figure a whisper inside the night. He kept every motion inconspicuous.
No blazing footwork, no glowing treasure, just a faint streak of ordinary light that wrapped around him. Under that shell, chaotic force churned and pushed him forward so fast the canyon walls blurred.
***
Blackwind Gorge opened ahead, wedged between two sheer peaks that stabbed into the clouds. Belts of sooty gale howled around them year-round. The ravine plunged deep. Jagged boulders jutted like broken fangs, and those swirling black cyclones tore at sound and spirit alike. They even tugged at the fabric of space—perfect cover for an ambush.
Jared arrived early. He walked the bends, ran a palm across stone, tasted the wind. At a sharp turn where both cliffs leaned inward and the wind screamed the loudest, he stopped. No formation flags, no glowing runes. He simply bled chaotic force into the unruly aura already here. Wind, dust, and his own energy tangled until his presence vanished, the man dissolving into landscape. Then he waited, as patient as bedrock.
Roughly two hours later, a familiar cry rang out of the sky. The shrill call of Jade Phoenix steeds carried over the wind, joined by the low hum of a carriage breaking through air.
Three alabaster birds hauled a lavish carriage. Dozens of silver-armored celestial guards flanked it in a tight escort as it followed the planned route straight toward Blackwind Gorge. Through the half-drawn curtain, Jared spotted Clive inside. Pale lips, a hand pressed to his chest—evidence that the wound from earlier still gnawed at him, no matter what secret arts he used to cage it.
Clive kept glancing toward the distant city, brows knotted, as if replaying the failed visit to Jade Immortal Manor. Suspicion rode every twitch of his eyes.
“Increase speed! Clear that gorge ahead!” The envoy‘s cold command rolled across the escort, proof enough that he wanted no part of this cursed valley. Under a surge of energy, the carriage shot forward and dove between the canyon walls.
At the tight bend where the wind clawed hardest, the world suddenly tore open.
