Outside the colonnaded entrance, Vermilion Demon Lord kept his voice just above the wind. “Jared, the power you revealed earlier will draw sharper eyes. Malevolent Path Hall in particular…”
“It’s okay. Let them come,” Jared replied calmly. “It’s only a matter of time before they track me down anyway. Showing a fraction of what I can do scares off bottom-feeders and saves us needless skirmishes… Besides, Earthfire Pavilion is curious about me now. That curiosity could turn into protection if we play our cards right.”
Vermilion Demon Lord mulled the logic, then offered a brief nod, scarlet hair stirring in the dusk. The pair returned to their inn, spending the rest of the evening sharpening blades, minds, and resolve for the journey through Flame Gorge at dawn.
Unbeknownst to them, word of the afternoon’s spectacle raced along every information channel in Crimson Flame City. By nightfall, each major faction, Malevolent Path Hall included, spoke of a young, enigmatic cultivator who crushed a Level Seven Combat Puppet with bare hands.
“He shattered a Level Seven Combat Puppet’s Flame Dragon Slash with just his bare hands?” Bennett Bloodwyn listened to the report, crimson eyes gleaming like coals. “No wonder Darkwind Gorge fell. That boy truly does have some skill…”
“Elder Bloodwyn, shall we strike now?” a subordinate asked.
Bennett shook his head. “No… There’s no hurry. He’s currently a guard on one of Earthfire Pavilion’s missions. If we launch a blatant attack, we’d only offend Earthfire Pavilion… Let’s wait until he leaves the city and steps into Flame Gorge; chaos is our ally there. Tell Barnaby to head there first and set the Myriad Ghost Devouring Grand Array along the outer rim. This time, I will take action personally. Jared Chance will not escape again!”
In the hollows of that lair, murderous intent gathered like frost, invisible yet bitterly real. Meanwhile, in a rented room above a quiet tavern, Jared sat cross-legged, eyes closed, steadying his breath.
At first light the next morning, beyond Crimson Flame City’s southern gate, Jared and Vermilion Demon Lord arrived punctually at the rendezvous point. More than twenty figures had already gathered, their murmurs swallowed by the wind. Ten were newly hired guards, while the rest were disciples and enforcers of the Earthfire Pavilion.
Ahead of the gathering, three sumptuous carriages waited in silence. Each carriage was yoked to four Crimson Flame Steeds whose burning hooves cast restless sparks across the baked roadway. Shortly after sunrise, a figure in ember-red robes glided through the main gate, snow-white hair framing a face as unlined as a child’s. It was Ferdinand Flameheart, a Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Eight alchemy master.
“Greetings, Elder Flameheart!” the Earthfire Pavilion disciples shouted together, bows crisp and perfectly timed.
“Stand easy,” Ferdinand Flameheart said, his voice spreading like warm coals. “Our mission is to gather Flame Spirit Herbs inside Flame Gorge. I’ll be counting on everyone to escort us there. That said, I have to remind everyone that deep within the gorge lairs a Flame Dragon with strength equal to a Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Nine cultivator. Speed and safety are our top priorities. Do you all understand?”
“Understood!”
“Good. Let’s move out!”
With that, Ferdinand stepped into the center carriage, scarlet curtains dropping behind him with a muted hiss of silk.
Out on the wide road beyond Crimson Flame City, the convoy rolled forward. Jared and Vermilion Demon Lord chose to travel by flying, giving them a wider field of vision. Half an hour later, the procession entered rust-colored hills. The temperature climbed sharply, and a faint tang of sulfur drifted in every breath.
At that moment, a carved window on the lead carriage creaked open. A girl of perhaps seventeen leaned out. Her skin was milk over moonlight, her brows curved like brushstrokes, and her eyes, bright as twin flames, held both mischief and curiosity. She wore a flowing fire-red gown embroidered with golden three-legged sun-birds.
Youth could not hide the innate grace that clung to her like perfume. Her gaze wandered over the escort until it caught Jared gliding above the column. When their eyes met, Jared saw unmasked wonder in her burning irises, as though she had stumbled upon a fascinating new toy.
He blinked, offered a courteous nod, then turned his eyes back to the horizon, heartbeat just a shade quicker beneath his calm exterior. Yet the instant their eyes brushed against each other—a spark that lasted no longer than a heartbeat—the hush of the camp broke. Heads turned as though a silent bell had tolled, summoning every curious gaze.
