The guards and soldiers had no chance to react, a flash of gold washed over their eyes, and consciousness slipped from their grasp.
Jared used no ornate technique, no earth-shaking spell. A casual tap sent one man crumpling, a casual wave hurled another through the air, a casual point burst a third man’s brow. Every time his hand moved, someone dropped. Each body hit the dirt without so much as a final scream.
He strolled through the mob as if wandering a garden path, robes drifting, untouched by dust, behind him, bodies piled high and rivers of scarlet spread wide.
In less than half a cup of tea’s time, it was over. More than thirty guards and more than twenty Celestial Palace soldiers lay dead. Not a single survivor remained.
Jared came to a halt amid the mound of corpses and lake of blood, his clothes stayed spotless, not a speck on them.
He lifted his head toward Dominic, who had squeezed himself into a corner at the foot of the cliff, limbs shaking uncontrollably.
The swagger Dominic once flaunted was nowhere to be found. Collapsed on the ground, he had soaked the space between his legs, a sharp stench leaking into the air.
The illustrious Young Lord of the House of Wagner, a High Immortal Realm Level Nine prodigy, now trembled like a stray mutt caught in a storm.
“No… Don’t… Don’t come any closer…” He watched Jared advance one step at a time and scrambled backward, only to feel the unyielding cliff face against his spine.
Jared stopped three paces short, looking down from above.
“Dominic…” His tone remained even. “From the very first glance, I knew you were trash…”
Dominic’s mouth opened and closed, yet no sound came out.
Jared went on, “High Immortal Realm Level Nine, Young Lord Wagner, Celestial Palace lapdog, Cloudhaven City genius… Your life has been smooth, everything handed to you, so you assume the world must orbit around you and every woman must belong to you.”
He leaned in slightly, eyes locking on Dominic’s quivering gaze, speaking each word with clarity, “But you miscalculated. Some things in this world are beyond your reach.”
Dominic’s whole frame shook harder, teeth clacking against each other. “Ja… Jared, y-you can’t kill me… I’m the sole heir of the House of Wagner… My father is in the True Immortal Realm… If you kill me, he’ll hunt you down… And the Celestial Palace… They won’t spare you either…”
Jared let out a light laugh. The curve of his lips held a faint, cutting ridicule.
“Dominic, do you really think I care about any of that?” He straightened, lifted his hand, and a sphere of golden light gathered in his palm.
Dominic’s pupils shrank to pinpoints; despair washed across his face.
“N-No…” The scream tore from his throat, high-pitched and raw.
At the exact instant Jared’s palm began to drop for the killing strike, a frigid shout rolled in from a distance. “Stop it!”
In the very next breath three dark-red beams plunged out of the sky and slammed into the ground between Jared and Dominic, cutting off Jared’s advance.
When the crimson glow peeled away, three silhouettes stood revealed.
At their head was Morven, face bloodless, a strange dark-red aura seeping from every pore. Quentin and Silas waited a step behind him.
The three Demon Dragon Envoys had arrived!
Morven studied Jared and let a thin, icy smile curl across his lips. “Jared, we meet again. This time you won’t escape.”
Jared withdrew his hand and fixed his gaze on Morven. Three days earlier these very Demon Dragons had hunted him until he was battered and one breath from death.
Three days later, the corner of his mouth tipped upward. “Escape?” He echoed the word softly, then shook his head. “Who said I’m the one who’ll be running?”
Morven’s expression stalled. His eyes swept Jared from head to toe, and a deep furrow gathered between his brows.
“Your… Your aura…”
The aura around Jared bore no resemblance to what it had been three days before. Back then he had only reached the top of High Immortal Realm Level Two and had no strength to fight back. Now he felt bottomless, impossible to gauge.
A pressure even made Morven’s own bloodline quiver.
“Top Level High Immortal Realm Level Three?” Morven gave a short, cold laugh. “Leaping from Level Two to Level Three in three days is impressive, but do you really think that sliver of progress lets you stand against us?”
Quentin and Silas stepped forward, the three men forming a triangle that penned Jared inside.
Morven’s stare clung to Jared, something hungry flashing in eyes. “Hand over the Golden Bloodline, and I’ll let you die quickly. Otherwise…”
He left the sentence unfinished, the threat heavier than words. Jared gazed at him and suddenly smiled. The smile matched the one he had worn while facing Dominic moments ago.
It was slight, cutting, a silent sneer.
“Morven, when you chased me three days ago I truly wasn’t your match,” Jared said, voice unhurried. “But today…”
He paused, raised his hand, and let golden radiance gather in his palm. The light blazed, dazzling and stifling.
“Today, the three of you are nothing but ants in my eyes.”
Morven’s face twitched; he barked, “Arrogant!”
He flicked his wrist, and Quentin and Silas struck at once. Three dark-red beams thick with demonic aura howled toward Jared.
Jared didn’t budge. He didn’t even try to evade. He simply stood there, allowing attacks strong enough to cleave mountains to crash into him.
Buzz! Boom!
The blast thundered, filling the air with choking dust.
Morven’s lips lifted into a smile.
“Idiot! Taking the full blow from the three of us, even a True Immortal would…”
The words jammed in his throat. The dust thinned. Jared still stood exactly where he had been. Not a single mark marred his body. Even the hem of his robe remained pristine.
Morven’s eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. “H-How is that possible?!”
Jared lifted his hand, brushed away nonexistent dust from his robe, and spoke in a light voice, “That’s it?”
