No sooner had spoken than Flaxseed froze, his features turning rigid.
“Jared, do you feel that?” He edged closer and dropped his voice. “Someone’s on our tail…”
A faint smile tugged at Jared’s lips, golden light flashing in his eyes. “Five of them, all Level Nine Wandering Immortals. They’re from that organization.”
Only that shadowy group possessed such strength, Jared could think of no one else.
Here in the Third Heaven, a Level Nine Wandering Immortal was strong enough to lead an entire sect. Yet every operative of this organization seemed to wield comparable power; according to Everett, their territory lay beyond the reach of the Third Heaven’s laws.
“So should we…” Flaxseed mimed a throat-slitting gesture.
Jared gave a slight shake of his head. “Let them follow. I’m curious what they’re planning.”
He had noticed their presence long before but had kept silent, if they wished to tail him, would permit it.
Five Level Nine Wandering Immortals were still within his ability to handle.
Dropping the subject, Flaxseed sidled closer to Everett and began digging for information about Bloodshadow Palace. After all, Everett hailed from the Third Heaven and surely knew the sect well.
“Mr. Cloud, is it true that Bloodshadow Palace really has over ten thousand female cultivators? What are they like?” Flaxseed pressed.
Everett offered a wry smile. “Mr. Flaxseed, they’re all renowned beauties. The Saintess herself is hailed as the most stunning woman in the Third Heaven, though she’s equally infamous for ruthless nature…”
“She practices the Bloodshadow Grand Art, which requires absorbing a man’s vital essence. Over the years, hundreds, maybe thousands, have perished beneath charms.”
“Hold on-so every woman there advances through that kind of black magic? Then none of them are virgins?” Flaxseed’s disappointment showed in the crease of his brow.
“Mr. Flaxseed, a touch of worldly experience can add its own allure. They say the Saintess’ skills in bed are unparalleled, many men surrender themselves willingly. There’s even a saying up here, spending one night with the Saintess is worth more than attaining true immortality,” Everett confided in an almost conspiratorial whisper.
Flaxseed’s eyes gleamed. “That tempting, huh? Then I definitely need to meet her!”
Jared could only shake his head in helpless resignation; it seemed nothing short of death could cure Flaxseed of his fascination with the fairer sex.
***
For five full days, the group sped through the skies before distant mountain ridges finally sharpened on the horizon.
Mist swirled around the peaks, and atop the tallest stood a palace as crimson as fresh blood, Bloodshadow Palace itself.
“We’re here…” Jared halted.
“Mr. Flaxseed, the stage is yours.” He trusted Flaxseed to manage them; after all, the man had once hailed from the Sixth Heaven.
Flaxseed straightened his robe and spritzed a touch of unfamiliar fragrance across his chest.
“What are you trying to pull…?” Jared muttered, the corner of his eye twitching.
“Pre-battle grooming,” Flaxseed replied with grave solemnity. “When you’re about to face female cultivators, appearances matter…”
Everyone else fell silent, completely at a loss for words.
Just then, a shrill whistle split the air in the direction of Bloodshadow Palace. Hundreds of crimson-clad figures shot out of the main hall and assembled in midair, locking into a tight battle formation.
Jared narrowed his eyes. “Looks like they already know we’re here. Word of Destiny Sect’s fall sure travels fast.”
Unruffled, Flaxseed reached into his breast and produced a fan folded from charm paper. With a crisp snap, spread it wide and said, “Watch me!”
He tapped the tip of his boot against empty air, and his entire body floated toward Bloodshadow Palace like a drifting feather, graceful, light, utterly unlike his usual shambling self.
That lecherous old goat… What a show-off…
Jared could only shake his head in speechless disbelief.
“Jared, do you think Mr. Flaxseed might get eaten alive by those Bloodshadow Palace women? I mean, his body’s nothing like yours,” Jhaelyn asked, glancing worriedly at him.
