“Sheldon Soulsby,” Jared continued, his voice rolling like distant thunder. “Were you not already half-dead from your duel with Mr. Cloudridge, I would crack your skull open and raze that wretched den you call a sect…”
“Gather your remaining lackeys and crawl back to the Blood-Scar Plains. Tell Soul Devourer that Jared Chance has arrived on Level Ten and is hunting for him. Remind that b*stard to stand ready. I’m coming to tear his soul apart!”
As he said this, Jared’s eyes narrowed, pupils flashing like twin shards of obsidian. A killing intent, colder and sharper than before, poured off him in waves.
Sheldon felt as if he had tumbled into a frozen abyss, every muscle locking tight.
“You’d do well,” Jared added, voice now a low growl, “to make sure Soul Devourer abandons the Infinite Soul Demon Sect altogether. Next time we meet, it won’t be my palm that greets him; it will be my sword. And on that day, your entire sect will cease to exist.”
Rage shook Sheldon’s battered frame. Demonic essence battered the walls of his meridians, threatening to drive him into madness.
He glared at Jared, hatred boiling so fiercely it almost took form—a phantom knife poised behind his eyes, begging to carve Jared to pieces.
“You insolent whelp!” Sheldon spat, his voice raw. “You come hunting for the Lord himself? Do you even comprehend what realm he commands?!”
“Realm?” Jared snorted, the sound thick with contempt. “Last time I met him on Level Nine, I left him scrambling like a whipped cur. He fled here to Level Ten only because he couldn’t survive in there. And you fools still treat him like some grand treasure. Every time I see him, I thrash him—simple as that!”
Only after the words had flown did Jared realize, with a faint inner wince, that his old habit of showboating had seized him again.
Uhm… If Soul Devourer actually drops in right now, I’m in for another beating…
But spoken threats could not be swallowed, and retreat was unthinkable.
Sheldon looked ready to explode, demonic essence sputtering around him like sparks in dry tinder, while Linden Cloudridge, standing a little off to the side, frowned sharply at the name Soul Devourer.
“Young friend…” Linden asked, voice steady yet edged with unease, “by Soul Devourer, do you mean the tyrant who ruled Level Nine ten thousand years ago, the one believed lost for a full millennium?”
“Exactly him,” Jared replied with a crisp nod.
A breath hissed between Linden’s teeth. Color drained from his face, leaving it ashen. He had expected many answers, never that!
***
Later, atop the Mystic Sky Sword Sect’s Terrace
“That fiend escaped the place of his confinement?” Linden whispered, almost to himself.
“You know him as well?” Jared asked, brows lifting. It struck him as odd; Linden hailed from Level Ten, how could he hold such detailed knowledge about a monster from the skies below?
Linden’s eyes darkened with memories he clearly wished he could forget.
“Of course I do,” he said at last. “The Mystic Sky Sword Sect was once rooted in Level Nine. When Soul Devourer was suppressed back then, my master joined the assault and fell, mortally wounded. The sect passed to me, and across these ten millennia we migrated here, rebuilt, endured!”
“I had prayed that creature would remain buried forever, but somehow he slipped free and has found shelter inside the Infinite Soul Demon Sect… Looks like the storm has broken over our heads.”
Linden murmured the words, his sword robe flapping against a balustrade that overlooked the sect’s cloud-wreathed summit.
“The Infinite Soul Demon Sect has stationed the Soul Devourer in their ranks. If that monster remains, our Mystic Sky Sword Sect is in real danger!”
Concern etched deep lines across Linden’s brow. Moonlight caught in the silver of his hair, making him appear older, and more fragile, than Jared had ever seen.
“Why lose sleep over it?” Jared countered, folding his arms with easy swagger. “I wounded that so-called Soul Devourer back on Level Nine. He’s still licking his wounds, nowhere near his prime.”
A faint grin sharpened the edges of Jared’s face. “I chased him from Level Nine all the way down to Level Ten for one reason: so I could finish what I started and hammer him to his knees until he begs for mercy.”
With those words, Jared patted Linden lightly on the shoulder, an oddly casual gesture atop a terrace usually reserved for solemn strategy sessions.
Hearing Jared boast so brazenly, Linden felt a numb ripple race through his limbs, as though the night wind itself had frozen around him.
A mere Human Immortal Realm Level Seven cultivator, yet he talked about forcing the Soul Devourer to grovel. The claim bordered on madness!
“My friend, do you even understand the level of that fiend?” Linden finally asked, voice thinning into a strained whisper. “If my calculations are right, the Soul Devourer has already stepped into Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Eight… Maybe Level Nine, or worse… His power could tear open a path to even higher worlds.”
He exhaled hard. “Forgive me, but I cannot believe a Level Seven Human Immortal could defeat him. Unless… Are you the pampered heir of some hidden dynasty with a colossus shielding you from the shadows?”
The question hung between them like a drawn blade. Jared seized upon the convenient escape route. He bobbed his head in exaggerated respect.
“Never thought you’d spot it so quickly, Master Cloudridge! Yes, I’m the favored son of a reclusive clan. The senior behind me could wipe out the entire Level Ten with a single flick of his sleeve.”
The moment Jared finished, muffled snorts and open scoffs rose from every corner of the terrace.
Swordsmen, alchemists, and even passing servants rolled their eyes in synchronized contempt. Even Linden let out a weary sigh, wondering whether Jared’s tongue might be sharper than his sword.
