Flaxseed’s aura guttered like a wind-blown candle. His skin had gone the color of old parchment, and his knees buckled so hard stumbled three steps backward, every ounce of spiritual energy drained from his veins.
Sensing that single breath of vulnerability, Jared pivoted on his heel. The Dragonslayer Sword flashed from its scabbard, a silver comet arcing beneath the torchlight, and drove the point straight toward Baldric’s exposed chest.
Baldric’s attention had still been snagged on the elder; the blade punched through flesh and bone before could weave a defense. Blood fountained from his lips as the impact hurled across the chamber like a broken doll.
“Move!” Jared roared, his voice cracking through the smoke like a whip. He seized Flaxseed by the forearm, hauled the exhausted charm master to his feet, and sprinted for the hidden corridor that led out of the secret room.
Behind them Baldric and the elder struggled to rise, but injuries left the pair nailed to the floor. They could do nothing except watch their prey vanish into the gloom.
Jared and Flaxseed burst from Blackwind Stronghold and pounded westward, hearts hammering in sync with each desperate footfall. Their only hope was to reach the ravines skirting Nine Serpent Mountain before the bandits rallied and gave chase.
After running several dozen miles, they found a narrow grotto veiled by thorny brush. Inside, the air tasted of damp stone and old moss, a perfect hiding place. They collapsed onto the ground, lungs heaving, limbs trembling from exertion.
Flaxseed looked ghost-pale, forcing that ancestral talisman moments earlier had wrung dry. Even lifting his hand felt like pushing against lead.
“Focus on your breathing,” Jared murmured, pressing a single tonic pill into Flaxseed’s palm.
While the older man settled into meditation, Jared stationed himself at the cave mouth, spiritual awareness unfurling across the forest like an invisible net.
Tonight’s skirmish delivered a cruel lesson, they had vastly underestimated their toes.
Baldric was fearsome, but the hooded elder behind radiated strength perilously near the fifth tier of Earthly Immortal Realm, more power than Jared had imagined lurking on the frontier.
“Jared, that jerk was something else,” Flaxseed said, voice thin but defiant as guided the pill’s energy through his starved meridians.
“lf I hadn’t sprung my ancestor’s talisman, and if my own strength weren‘t crawling back, I’d be a corpse right now…”
“That must be Baldric’s master. His depth is impossible to read,” Jared answered, brow furrowed. “If a stronghold on Nine Serpent Mountain’s edge shelters monsters like them, the waters ahead are far darker than we guessed.”
Memory flashed. The wolf demon had warned that Baldric had joined the raid on the Flaxseed clan.
If the master was involved as well, and if Blackshade Demon Palace had lent its hand, then the massacre had been a conspiracy woven by far too many hungry forces.
Flaxseed’s eyes steadied into flint. “Give me a little time to refill the tank, and we move on to the next nest. No matter how many names sit behind this, I will drag every truth into the light.”
Jared was about to reply when every hair on his arms lifted.
“Incoming…” hissed. A rush of wind cracked outside the cave, and three silhouettes landed with predatory grace, sealing the exit.
The leader wore a sable cloak and deep cowl; beneath it, eyes burned crimson, emissaries of Blackshade Demon Palace.
“Mr. Chance, Mr. Flaxseed, how wonderful to see you both alive,” the cloaked speaker rasped, each word scraping like steel on stone.
“My lady, the demon princess bids your return with us,” continued, laughter dry and corroded. “Do cooperate!”
Jared‘s grip tightened on the Dragonslayer Sword.
“So Lunaria finally shows hand,” muttered, spiritual energy surging in silence. “Tell me, how many hounds did leash for this errand?”
“Just the three of us,” the envoy said as his two comrades stepped forward, their auras matching Lunaria’s own murderous chill. “More than enough to escort the pair of you.”
Flaxseed forced himself upright, his knees wobbling yet unbowed. He clutched the clan leader token so tightly it dug into his palm.
A clean white radiance spilled from the token and resonated with the last threads of spiritual energy still swirling inside him, clearing the fog in his mind.
“You want to drag us back into chains? Then first ask this talisman if it agrees!” His roar rang across the cavern like a bell. A sneer drifted from the left.
One of the black-robed figures blurred forward, palm already curling into a hooked claw. Demonic aura rolled off his fingertips, sickly and foul, and the cavern air turned viscous long before the strike arrived.
Flaxseed dared not falter. He poured every scrap of energy still possessed into the clan leader token. A blinding white shield blossomed in front of his chest, meeting the claw head-on.
