At the column’s point rode a dozen elders clad in flowing silver robes. Their auras pooled like bottomless chasms; blank faces and the faint pressure surrounding them made hearts stutter.
Any one of these men could stamp a foot and jolt a whole corner of Cloudhaven City, the weakest among them already stood at High Immortal Realm Level Eight. In the eyes of any noble house, such power counted as nothing short of formidable.
Leading the formation, three elders radiated an even fiercer presence, Top Level High Immortal Realm Level Nine, a single step shy of the True Immortal Realm. Their robes, woven from rare shimmering cloth, carried on each chest the same towering image of a Sacred Mountain thrusting into the clouds.
That emblem belonged to the Celestial Palace.
Within this immortal domain, those two words spoke of supreme authority, absolute rule, and a might no one provoked lightly. Every sect, every family that heard the name showed instinctive respect and dared not slacken in the least.
Now that Celestial Palace force was driving straight for Cloudhaven City.
At the gate, Dominic of House of Wagner had been waiting for a long while. Brocade garments hugged his tall frame, the handsome lines of his face could not hide a sharp impatience that clung to him like a shadow.
He stood to one side of the gate, eyes locked on the rising dust, hands clasped behind his back, fingertips betraying a faint tremor.
The moment he spotted silver robes and the Sacred Mountain crest, Dominic’s eyes gleamed, a reverent smile jumped onto his face, and he strode forward at speed.
“Lord Wagner Dominic welcomes the Celestial Palace Elders!” He bowed deep, spine curved low, leaving not a hint of disrespect.
The white-haired elder at the front answered that bow with little more than a glance, hair and beard snow-white, eyes bright as split lightning, a vigor that made age itself look like a rumor. His gaze skimmed across Dominic, and his calm voice carried the weight of undisputed command.
“Lord Wagner, you claim the House of Chance is hiding a Celestial Palace fugitive named Jared, do you swear that is the truth?”
Dominic dropped into another deep bow, his movement quick and low. His voice rang with ironclad certainty. “Replying to you, Elder! Every syllable is true. Not one word is false!”
“Not long ago Jared entered the House of Chance’s martial-contest marriage trial. He cut through every round, outshone all rivals, and cleared every test. The family has already recognized him as their future son-in-law, openly and formally! The House of Chance even escorted him to the Primeval Dragonmere on Northridge Mountain, and their intentions were anything but honorable!”
The white-haired elder echoed the name with a mild question. “The Primeval Dragonmere?”
A faint crease formed between the elder’s brows; the place was clearly no mystery to him.
Dominic nodded hard and hurried on. “Exactly, Elder! A legendary Draconian Sovereign Relic lies buried in that Dragonmere, its power is limitless! Jared bears the Golden Dragon Bloodline and is the destined Successor. Once he stepped inside, he was sure to claim the relic. Now he’s hiding inside the House of Chance Manor, simply waiting for the right moment!”
The elder fell silent for a breath, then let his deep gaze travel toward the heart of Cloudhaven City where the manor stood. He waved the matter closed with a casual flick of his hand. “Into the city.”
The single command settled everything. At once the hundred-strong Celestial Palace column poured through the gate. Their unified steps beat war drums while their momentum raced straight for the House of Chance Manor.
Townsfolk scattered on both sides of the street, ducking behind walls, doors, and shop counters. Half-hidden faces peeked out, whispering among themselves, Worry etched on every feature.
“Are those… From the Celestial Palace? Why would they come to Cloudhaven City?”
“Look at that formation… They’re not here peacefully. Word is the House of Chance is hiding someone the Palace wants.”
“Someone important? You mean that Jared Chance, the one who stirred up the realm and wrecked the Skyreach Path?”
“Quiet! Do you want to die? Don’t speak that name so freely!”
Fragments of uneasy chatter floated everywhere. Everyone understood that one fit of Palace wrath could leave countless dead, and the House of Chance looked doomed today?
Outside the manor gate, two ordinary guards kept their routine watch.
Silver-robed figures rushed straight toward them, the invisible pressure so heavy that both guards’ knees trembled and their faces went paper white.
“Halt! This is the House of Chance Manor! No trespassing!” one guard shouted. He forced the words out, but the tremor in his voice betrayed the effort.
The white-haired elder never even glanced their way, treating them like tiny pests.
With a lazy lift of his hand, invisible force burst forth and crashed onto the two guards like a falling mountain.
Thud!
Two dull impacts followed. The guards flew back, hit the ground hard, coughed blood, and slipped unconscious without a cry.
“Seal the manor. No one in or out. Anyone who tries, kill without mercy!” the elder ordered. His words came out icy, stripped of all warmth.
“Yes, sir!” The hundred soldiers answered in perfect unison, the shout making the whole estate tremble. They fanned out at practiced speed, forming layer after layer until not even a fly could escape. Inside the walls, disorder had already taken hold.
In the Council Hall, Garrick and the six elders sat around the table, faces set and heavy as they searched for a way forward. Worry clung to every feature, pressing the air down like lead.
A sudden roar of footsteps, shouts, and breaking objects erupted outside, blending into a single jarring uproar.
Garrick’s brows snapped together, a chill sliding across his skin. He opened his mouth to send someone out when a guard burst in, stumbling, clothes askew, eyes wide and wild.
