“That is already the rock-bottom figure,” the attendant replied, smile never wavering. “The Hall guards its secrets savagely, and we shoulder immense risk retrieving them. The price is fair.”
Jared’s brow tightened. Damian had given exactly one million celestial gems, a fortune that still felt painfully finite, and there was no guarantee these words were genuine.
“If the intel proves false?” asked. “Whispers Tower trades in trust,” said firmly. “Should the information fail you, we refund every gem.”
Jared thought for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. I’ll buy.”
He drew the heavy pouch from his storage satchel and placed the one million gems into waiting hands. Lyra stepped quickly in front of Jared, halting him.
Her silver gaze swept toward the attendant. “Just a moment. We belong to the Sword Sect. Surely that earns us a courtesy discount?”
The figure of one million celestial gems still rang inside skull like a war drum. Ordinary cultivators lived and breathed by those stones, there were no secret vaults, no hidden patrons, only that auric gravel that fueled every sunrise meditation.
Hand such a fortune to the Sword Sect, and the strength of every novice on the mountain would surge overnight. So, Lyra tried to bargain. Anything to soften the blow.
The attendant, chin angled high, pride stitched into every graceful line of posture, barely spared Lyra a glance. “Apologies… Not even the city lord himself receives a markdown.”
Lyra’s fingers curled, knuckles whitening. Her next breath came out in a tight hiss as indignation flared behind eyes. Before sharp words could fly, Jared laid a calming hand on shoulder. “Let’s finish the tally, Lyra.”
His tone, low and steady, smothered the sparks before they leaped to flame.
After counting the gems, the attendant passed Jared a narrow slip of paper. “The Malevolent Path Hall keeps its branch in Darkwind Gorge, west of the city. Guards patrol day and night. Proceed carefully.”
Flaxseed’s brows shot up. “We pay one million for that?”
To him, real intelligence should come from some vaulted chamber buried beneath Whispers Tower, senior archivists poring over dusty scrolls while candles guttered. Instead, they received a scrap of ink-stained parchment.
The attendant rolled eyes so hard the motion nearly turned full circle. “What else do you want, me warming your bed? You asked for information. I delivered.”
A vein throbbed along Flaxseed’s temple. If they weren’t in Swordmaster City, might have taught the attendant a lesson.
Jared unfolded the slip. Sure enough, neat strokes mapped the route to Darkwind Gorge. He tucked the note into his robe and dipped his head. “Much appreciated…”
With that, guided Flaxseed and Lyra out of Whispers Tower.
“So, Jared-straight to Darkwind Gorge?” Flaxseed asked, hopeful sparks already dancing in his eyes.
“Not yet.” Jared shook his head. “Their defenses are tight. March in now, and we die before sunset. We regroup tonight, gather supplies, and scout at dawn.”
Lyra exhaled a wistful sigh. “It still feels like throwing coins into a bottomless lake.”
“Value’s relative,” Jared replied, offering a gentle smile. “They named their price, we accepted. No one forced us.”
“If you’re heading there tomorrow,” Lyra said, concern softening stern features, “I can summon Sword Sect disciples to stand with you.”
Jared shook his head. “Best keep the party small. Spies notice crowds.”
“Very well. Call on me the moment you need anything,” said before leaving.
Jared and Flaxseed returned to the inn.
Beneath the lantern’s weak glow Jared smoothed out a crumpled scrap of parchment, the inked arrow stabbing toward Darkwind Gorge. While studied every ragged contour, Flaxseed coaxed runes onto talisman paper, preparing charms.
***
The next morning, they donned plain coats and left quietly for Darkwind Gorge.
Darkwind Gorge lay five hundred kilometers beyond Swordmaster City, a forsaken scar the maps barely dared name. All year, a charcoal wind howled through its jaws, turning day to dusk and scouring brave intruders down to bone.
They cleared the city gates, determined to locate Kishor first; with at their side, they wouldn’t need to fear anything.
