The Fourteenth Firmament, Celestial Palace. Lucian lifted his eyes. The Celestial Palace floated a sheer ten thousand fathoms high, held aloft by 9,999 white-jade pillars, each etched with a beast so lively it seemed mid-roar. Golden clouds curled around the eaves.
Cranes glided through the mist, while gold-armored celestial generals patrolled the perimeter, their presence sharp enough to cut the breeze. Inside the grand hall, every heartbeat felt loud, the air dense with unspoken judgment.
Lucian and Lyria knelt at the fore. Though their wounds had closed, pallor clung stubbornly to their faces. Twelve Elders occupied twin rows along the dais, each radiating the suffocating might of Top Level High Immortal Realm Level Nine.
Upon the central golden throne sat Dominic, clad in a purple-gold robe. His stern features never softened, stars seemed to flicker in and out within his eyes, and the hall revolved around his quiet gravity. He was a True Immortal and Hall Master of the Celestial Palace!
“Useless trash!” Elder Redflame slammed a palm against the jade desk, the crack echoing. His glare skewered Lucian and Lyria. “Two Level-Seven High Immortals, armed with a Divine Seal Sigil, routed by a Lower Realm brat! The Grand Venerable dead, 300 thousand soldiers lost, our Palace humiliated!”
Lucian bowed deeper, silent.
Lyria’s jaw tightened. “Elder Redflame, the fault isn’t ability. Jared possesses the Golden Dragon Bloodline and chaotic force; his power far exceeds his realm.”
The white-haired elder’s brow furrowed. “Golden Dragon Bloodline? The Golden Dragon Race vanished tens of thousands of years ago. How could one appear below?”
“Absolutely true!” Lucian’s voice rang firm. He lifted his head. “I watched him shift into a five-clawed Golden Dragon. Its bloodline pressure smothered even my Divine King Bloodline.”
Murmurs flared through the hall like sparks on dry grass. The Golden Dragon Bloodline, legend itself, ranked even above the royal veins of the celestials. If that legend lived, Jared’s worth stretched far beyond the label of Lower Realm traitor.
Dominic broke the clamor with a calm baritone. “The Skyreach Path lies in ruins and level thirteen is loose, but panic serves no one.” His gaze swept each Elder. “We do not stand alone atop the Fourteenth Firmament. The Basilica, the other Palace, and hidden ancients wait for us to overreach. A grand invasion below would hand them the excuse they want.”
Elder Redflame pressed, “Hall Master, you’d simply let the boy walk? He slew the Grand Venerable and ruined the Path! Without the Path, we cannot gather proper resources. How do we face the Divine King?”
“We won’t let him go,” Dominic answered. “Officially, we send a small squad to the Lower Realm, openly pursuing a traitor.” Steel flashed in his eyes. “After all, we’ve offered the Divine King far more tribute than either rival faction; blame will not fall on us.”
“But, Hall Master…” the white-haired elder began. “Jared holds both the Golden Dragon Bloodline and chaotic force. Even a squad may fail if he hides inside the Beastfolk Army.”
Victor’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Who said we must kill him now?” The elders stared, momentarily at a loss. “News of the Golden Dragon Bloodline will soon flood the Fourteenth Firmament,” Victor said, unhurried. “Many will be intrigued.
The race may be gone, yet their relics, secret realms, and legacies can tempt any True Immortal… We simply fan the flames. Other factions will send hunters below. Can Jared resist the greed of an entire Firmament?”
Understanding dawned; voices rose in praise. “Brilliant, Hall Master!” “Killing with another’s blade while we reap the spoils! Magnificent!”
Lucian met Lyria’s eyes; both saw the chill lurking there. The Hall Master’s strategy would not only kill Jared, it would squeeze every last drop of value from him first.
“How goes the matter of the Sacred Mountain?” Dominic asked.
The white-haired elder answered at once, “All eight altars stand complete. Large numbers of pilgrims are already on their way.”
“Hmm, excellent…” Dominic nodded. He turned back to Lucian and Lyria. “Your mission failed, and punishment is due. Yet the intelligence you returned with is priceless. Recover first; new orders await once you’ve healed.”
“Thank you, Hall Master!” Both touched their foreheads to the floor, then backed away respectfully.
Beyond the main hall, Lyria finally exhaled; cold sweat had soaked the back of her robe. “Senior… The Hall Master…” she began, words trailing into uneasy silence.
Lucian’s shoulders barely moved, his chin tilting once in refusal. A silent ripple of spiritual sound slid toward Lyria; no lips moved. “The Hall Master’s thoughts sit beyond our guessing,” the message whispered. “Handle our duties. For Jared Chance… Someone else will handle him.”
Both figures blurred, their outlines smearing into pale streaks. A heartbeat later, the twin ribbons of light slipped deeper into the Celestial Palace and vanished from sight.
