A seasoned guide through this mystical rite, Jared moved with practiced grace. A series of gentle touches, part mantra, part caress, loosened the girl’s tension until soft, involuntary gasps slipped past lips.
“Enough preliminaries,” breathed, voice trembling like a plucked string. “Please… Let the fusion begin…”
Her plea carried a desperate edge, as if the building tide of spiritual current had already proven almost too wondrous to bear. Jared answered with silence, sinking into focused stillness as guided his essence to meet hers.
A ribbon of gold, pure dragon power, poured from his core, threading into meridians like sunlit water seeping into thirsty earth.
The disciple shuddered. Eyes fluttered shut, and the line of mouth softened into unguarded bliss. The draconic energy fortified vessels even as it swept into heights of euphoria no solitary meditation could ever reach.
Thirty minutes later, the glow around subsided.
When opened eyes, cultivation had leapt a boundary had battled for years, advancing from Earthly Immortal Level Six to Level Seven. Bewildered joy spilled across face.
“Incredible! Mr. Chance, you’ve broken the barrier I’ve been pounding at forever!” laughed, disbelief sparkling in every syllable.
Her delight rang through the corridor, a clear bell summoning fresh courage in the hearts of those waiting outside.
With proof so radiant, hesitation vanished. A line formed instantly, each disciple eager for own turn beneath the golden current.
Jared’s body, tempered far beyond mortal limits, endured marathon days and silver-blue nights of fusion with little more than a sigh of fatigue.
Artemis spared no effort in sustaining him. Every sunrise, placed restorative pills and rare immortal herbs in his hands, the way a commander might pass fresh arrows to finest archer. And so the ritual became their rhythm.
Day after day, woman after woman stepped into the union room and emerged stronger; Jared’s own dragon bloodline, tempered by continual exchange, grew ever purer, and his cultivation climbed in steady, unshakable increments.
***
Two weeks passed. All ordinary disciples had completed the rite, only Artemis herself remained.
By then, Jared stood at the very summit of Top Level Earthly Immortal Realm Level One, a single breath away from the next great threshold.
That night, Artemis crossed the threshold of the union room. A violet dress clung to with regal elegance, the amethyst hue catching torchlight and haloing like dusk around a new moon. Every step radiated calm authority, worlds apart from the shy girls who had come before.
“Now…” said, voice soft yet utterly steady, “It is my turn.”
Artemis stood in the muted glow of the union room’s lanterns. With a steady breath, slipped free of robes, every movement measured, ceremonial, as though were shedding more than cloth casting aside fear itself while gold-flecked shadows rippled across bare shoulders.
Jared offered one solemn nod.
No flirtatious prelude, no lingering hesitation. He simply reached out, pressed his palm to sternum, and let their life forces crash together like two rivers that had finally found the same gorge.
A torrent of golden spiritual power surged from his arm into Artemis’ core. She trembled, not from pain but from the sheer volume of energy ripping through already formidable Earthly Immortal Realm Level Nine.
Twin currents his and hers, twined and coiled, and the union room ignited in molten light bright enough to erase every corner’s darkness. The fusion dragged on, slower and deeper than any prior attempt.
One day rolled into the next, then another. Three days and three nights ticked by until even the stones beneath them seemed to hum with exhaustion before the final spark at last faded.
When the golden radiance withdrew, Artemis’s aura soared clean past its former ceiling, settling at Human Immortal Realm Level One.
Inside Jared’s veins an even greater tide gathered, sending leaping to Earthly Immortal Realm Level Two with a roar that echoed only in his chest.
“This is wonderful…” Artemis breathed, joy splashing across cheeks. “You advanced faster than I dared hope. With you beside us, our odds against the Demonic Cultivators just climbed another notch.”
Power thundered under Jared’s ribs like a newborn star. Confidence, solid and iron-bright, took root where doubt had once lived. He sensed, beyond question, that could now meet a demon lord on open ground and hold.
He turned toward the closed meditation room, whispering within his mind. Rest easy, King Aurelius… When you wake, we’ll reclaim level six and avenge every soul we lost…
As though answering the vow, a single finger inside the chamber twitched. Aurelius opened his eyes to the world once more.
News of the monarch’s awakening streaked through Herb Sect like summer lightning, and before the sun climbed an hour higher, the entire mountain was ringing with jubilant shouts.
Supported by Jared’s steady arm, Aurelius stepped into daylight.
He inhaled the disciples’ freshly tempered auras, then chuckled, eyes gleaming with mischievous admiration. “Mr. Chance, your constitution is extraordinary, so many women, and you still stand tall…”
“Your Majesty,” Jared said, flushing despite himself, “You rule a kingdom. I imagine your palace holds thousands of beauties. My little contribution hardly compares.”
Aurelius laughed until his shoulders shook. “Hardly? Those thousands have waited a century and I’ve not managed half their names. Yet you, my friend, have elevated hundreds of Herb Sect sisters in mere days… Ah, enviable indeed…”
His eyes sparkled, half teasing, half sincere delight.
