That laugh carried unspoken reverence. To Flaxseed, Jared was a storybook hero brought to life, an indomitable shield against every hidden knife this perilous world could raise. Jared offered no reply. He walked to the spring, folded his legs, and settled beside the luminous pool.
With a casual flick of his wrist, the Black-White Flame blossomed above the springhead, encircling the water in a living corona of shadow and light. The twin-toned fire danced, alive and hungry, breathing out a power that hummed like distant starlight.
Drawn by that flame, threads of pure celestial energy rose from the pool, slipped past Jared’s nose, and streamed into him. Inside, the energy found a home, nourishing meridians with the tenderness of spring rain.
With every pulse, his aura thickened, solidifying the foundations of his Earthly Immortal Realm Level Five cultivation. His spirit power compacted, reforged, iron hammered into steel. Even the faint fissures left by the reckless act of absorbing souls smoothed away, melting like frost beneath the new sun.
Flaxseed stood guard, eyes sweeping the ridges, ready to trade his life for Jared’s silence if need be.
He was a lone sentry before a sacred rite, spine straight, resolve harder than the crags underfoot.
***
An hour slipped by, the last breath of celestial energy left the spring, its water losing its radiant sheen until it looked no different from any mountain pool.
The hollow grew quiet again, as though nothing extraordinary had ever happened.
Jared opened his eyes. A razor flash of light out the dusk, then faded, leaving calm far deeper than before. His presence settled, an unmoving peak, ancient and sure.
“Well?” Flaxseed hurried closer, concern and anticipation wrestling across his face. Jared’s strength was their lifeline, and needed to hear good news.
“I’m steady now,” Jared said, voice even. He rose and stretched, joints whispering, every muscle answering like a well-tuned bowstring.
“This spring may be small, but it bought us time,” added, gaze already measuring distant horizons, “Yet the climb to Earthly Immortal Level Six will cost far more than mist and luck.”
Resolve hung on Jared’s voice like tempered steel, and in that ring of confidence lived the promise of a day when would tear past his current limits and stand In an even higher realm.
He tipped his head, eyes narrowing on the desolate horizon. The stare was so deep it seemed to tunnel through time itself, fixing on a future only could glimpse.
“Let’s move. We keep hunting for the Sixth Hall. Once the celestial gems are ours, the breakthrough will be right around the corner.”
The words were spoken softly, yet they rippled with power, a call to arms that lifted both his own spirit and Flaxseed’s in the same breath.
Flaxseed answered with a sharp nod, then fell into step beside him.
The wind on the wasteland lashed their faces raw, but it could not smother the fire in their chests. That fire burned bright enough to light every unseen mile ahead.
Danger lay thick on the road, yet whenever Jared walked beside him, Flaxseed felt an unshakable calm. To him, Jared was a lodestone, the single point of certainty in a world forever tilting toward chaos.
Jared knew it too. If hoped to expose the scheme linking the Celestial Palace and the Malevolent Path Hall, and if wished to shield Onneas, had to grow stronger, fast. Only by amassing true power could anyone survive on level seven, let alone protect what mattered most.
So marched on like a lone traveler on a thorn-strangled path, prepared to bleed but never to turn back.
Behind him, felt invisible eyes-people waiting, people believing, and promised everyone of them would not fail. He had to climb high enough to seize his fate, high enough to redraw the rules of the realm.
