The newcomer’s aura boomed across the sky, unyielding, immeasurable. “That is Immortal Lord Nimbus!”
“Immortal Lord Nimbus has finally appeared!” “We are saved!” Hidden among the shattered stone and choking dust, the Demonic Cultivators lifted their eyes.
When that lone figure cleaved through the smoky horizon, tears-hot and unbelieving-gathered behind lids that had forgotten how to hope.
In the radiant silhouette, they saw not merely a man but the final thread between breath and oblivion. Desperation fastened itself to the way drowning hands seize driftwood.
They understood, down in bone and spirit-that only Immortal Lord Nimbus possessed strength fierce enough to wrench them from this nightmare.
Immortal Lord Nimbus hovered in absolute stillness above the void, his robes whispering in a wind that answered only to him. His gaze swept the entire Cardinal Realm like a cold comet gliding over a fragile world.
When his eyes found the derelict quarries, vast, gaping scars in the land, his expression soured, the chill of violated sovereignty settling across his features. Anger and disbelief flared behind the sliver of his pupils, the look of a monarch returning to discover barbarians seated on his throne.
“Who dares rampage across my domain?!”
The challenge detonated like an iron bell struck inside a vaulted cathedral, its resonance tumbling through every canyon and cloud in the realm.
Both fists locked tight, and raw aura rolled off in brazen waves, a promise that the intruder would soon be little more than ash and memory.
In that charged silence, Jared walked forward, Quincy and the others fanning out behind him. Their footsteps were steady, unhurried, each heel fall a quiet refusal to be intimidated.
“And you must be Immortal Lord Nimbus?” Jared’s tone was almost casual, yet calm confidence shimmered in his eyes, as though the towering force before were nothing more than morning mist.
Immortal Lord Nimbus pivoted, and the instant his gaze locked on Jared, the air thickened.
Within that slender frame, sensed a depth of power that split his imagination wide open. A flicker of wariness slid into his stare, forcing to reassess this uninvited opponent.
“Identify yourself, why sabotage my plans?” Immortal Lord Nimbus’ words dripped with chili restraint, a veiled threat meant to crush resistance before it could draw breath.
“My name matters less than your crime,” Jared replied, a faint smile ghosting across his lips. “You enslave cultivators, turning spiritual stones Into celestial gems, tell me, to what end?”
His gaze knifed into Immortal Lord Nimbus, Intent on carving out whatever secrets lay hidden behind that immortal facade.
“None of this concerns you. Leave now, or suffer consequences beyond your reckoning!” Immortal Lord Nimbus scoffed.
Power gathered around like a living storm, ready to strike with the next heartbeat.
“Consequences? With a Wandering Immortal Realm Level Eight cultivation, you believe you impress me?”
Jared’s words were delivered so lightly that the vaunted ranking sounded like nothing more than a child’s wooden sword.
Color drained from Immortal Lord Nimbus’ face. Never had imagined this youth could pierce the veil of his cultivation so effortlessly. A chill of doubt slithered up his spine, whispering that might already have lost.
“W-Who in the heavens are you?” Immortal Lord Nimbus stammered, shoulders trembling despite the vast power coiled within him.
“My name is Jared Chance,” Jared said, as though that solitary name were explanation enough.
The instant Immortal Lord Nimbus heard Jared’s name, every hint of color bled from his face. His pallor looked almost luminous against the swirling gloom, as if someone had driven a spike of ice straight through his chest.
Terror slammed into with the force of a falling sky.
T-That name… No… Not here! Not him!
Spinning on his heel, Immortal Lord Nimbus bolted, robe tails snapping like torn flags, desperate to outrun a devil beast clearly believed no one could defeat.
“What?”
“Is Immortal Lord Nimbus fleeing?”
“Wasn’t supposed to punish that punk?”
The Demonic Cultivators froze mid-stride, slack-jawed. In their long, blood-stained careers, they had never seen the all-powerful Immortal Lord Nimbus retreat, let alone flee in panic from a single young man.
Dread seeped into their eyes, thick and heavy, until despair was all that remained. Jared gave a low, contemptuous snort. “Run, will you? Not that easy!”
