Cyril’s face rippled through shades of doubt and reluctant awe before he exhaled hard. With a curt swipe of his hand he broke the binding sigils. “Release them…”
“City Lord?” One of the guards almost choked on the honorific, fingers frozen over the iron locks. “I said, release them!” Cyril repeated the order, each word weighted like stone; no room remained for doubt.
Steel hinges clicked open in a nervous cascade as the guards scrambled to free every prisoner. The newly unshackled pressed their foreheads to the ground, gratitude flooding the space like dawn light, all of it gathering unspoken around Jared.
“You. Come with me,” Cyril said, his voice like steel plunged in frost. His gaze cut to the robed figure beside Jared. “Your companion as well…”
The order hit Jared’s chest harder than the chains that had once bound him. Refusal never even formed, the cold authority in Cyril’s eyes allowed no room.
Light cracked open around Cyril, sapphire and numbing, and in the next breath he was only a rushing comet over the rooftops. The air he left behind tasted of winter.
Jared tipped his chin toward Luther, understanding passed without speech. They rose together, boots skimming dust, then wind swallowed sound as their bodies broke free of gravity.
Cyril’s blue tail glimmered ahead like the only road left to them. Below, the Execution Platform sagged under scorched stone and half-conscious prisoners. Their bewildered groans mixed with the buzz of cultivators gathered in widening rings.
Jared did not slow to comfort them, mercy would have to wait.
“Who in thunder was that?” a voice floated up, thin as smoke.
Jared heard it only because fear sharpened every sense.
“Level Seven, and he still bent Cyril’s will?” someone gasped.
The words chased Jared upward like sparks from a dying torch.
“Did you feel that aura? My bones are still trembling…” another muttered.
Jared clenched his fist, pretending the chill belonged only to the wind.
“Coldabyss City is about to flip on its head…”
The prophecy hung behind Jared like a fading drumbeat. The rest dissolved into restless static, too many questions colliding at once.
***
City Lord Mansion, Reception Hall.
Marble doors folded shut behind them, and with a curt wave Cyril sent every attendant scurrying into side corridors.
Silence settled, suddenly intimate.
Cyril lifted a jade kettle and let fragrant amber swirl into Jared’s cup. The humility in the gesture felt almost surreal after the scaffold.
“Mr. Chance, my earlier conduct was unforgivable. Pressure has made me overcautious; I beg your pardon.”
Jared accepted the cup, its porcelain still warm from Cyril’s hands. “You are gracious, City Lord. I understand your caution.”
Cyril leaned forward, eyes bright as blade edges. “Let’s speak plainly. How did you reach level thirteen? What lineage grants you chaotic force? And this feud with the celestials, tell me everything.”
Steam rose between them while Jared tasted the tea, buying heartbeats. He weighed secrets against necessity and chose the thinner mask.
The thaw in Cyril’s tone told Jared the man wanted an ally, not a hostage. That same heat sharpened whenever the celestials were mentioned, resentment flickered behind his courtesy.
Jared set the cup down, letting the clink clear the air. “I’m from level twelve of the Lower Realm. A Senior opened the path for me, that’s how I crossed the ceiling you call a sky.”
“The chaotic force was luck, nothing more, an old ruin, a shard of power, wrong place, right time… As for the celestials, we’ve traded blows before. Their clan chief keeps my friend Maxwell in chains… I came to level thirteen to sharpen myself, and to break those chains if I can.”
Cyril tapped a thoughtful rhythm on the armrest. “Maxwell… The name isn’t known to me… Still, the celestials are infamous, their arrogance stains the whole realm and the tiers above it. They treat every other race as servants and make enemies like it’s breath.”
His gaze narrowed. “Tell me, when you vouched for those Eastern Region cultivators, was that a courtesy, or your true intention?”
Jared allowed the answer to leave on a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Naturally…”
He lifted his chin toward Cyril, letting the lamplight catch the edge of his eyes. “I trust what they’ve reported. And the way the celestials conduct themselves, I’ve loathed it from the start.”
A brief spark of approval flashed behind Cyril’s frost-pale eyes.
“Good! Mr. Chance, quick words and a straight soul. Since that’s so, I’ll trust you this once. The Eastern Region cultivators will be settled, my people won’t trouble them again.”
Jared clasped his hands and bent at the waist. “Many thanks, City Lord…”
A pause, then the City Lord’s brow tightened like Ice forming on glass.
“However… The situation on the Azure Firmament Immortal Continent may be harsher than even their stories suggest. Quiet reports reach me, celestials are scheming there, and it is more than carving new borders… It seems they want the continent as a springboard, a way to bleed into all of level thirteen, inch by inch.”
Jared’s brows cinched before he felt them move. “If that’s true, we have to stop them.”
Cyril released a thin sigh that clouded in the cold hall. “Harder than you think… The celestials are strong and old. Coldabyss City, even the entire North Abyss icefield-cannot face them alone. Unless… We unite other realms.”
He fixed Jared with an expectant gaze. “You stand in the Heavenly immortal Realm, power beyond your peers, and you carry an old grudge against them… Would you slip into the Azure Firmament immortal Continent, learn their true strength and aim? With solid proof, I could rally the Middle Realm and beyond.”
The offer landed exactly where his own intentions already pointed, and a low heat stirred behind his sternum.
Jared had intended to visit the Azure Continent anyway, to hunt for Senior Morse’s trail and sift through the celestials’ secrets. Backed by Cyril’s request and resources, the road suddenly looked straighter.
He Inclined his head. “I will go. First, to find an old friend; second, to gauge the celestials and carve out a rescue path for the Senior they’re holding.”
“Excellent!” Cyril’s voice rang like crystal struck. “Whatever you need, speak it. I maintain hidden contacts on the Azure Continent, they will aid you.”
They pored over routes until torchlight trembled. Cyril slid a thin map across the table, along with a pouch that clinked heavy with prime crystals.
When Jared finally stepped out of the city lord mansion, the sky above Coldabyss had already darkened to deep violet.
Luther kept pace at his side, worry sharpening his tone. “Mr. Chance, are we truly heading to the Azure Continent? The place is a nest of celestials now.”
“We have to.” Jared’s gaze sought the star-blurred east. “I need Senior Morse, and I need to see just how loud the celestials dare to roar.”
A sideways grin tugged at his mouth. “Besides, with you around, I’m not worried. When things turn ugly, you can simply send their souls on.”
Luther’s smile faltered. Color crawled up his ears as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Mr. Chance, please, don’t tease me. I’m only High Immortal Realm Level Five. Without the Door of Reincarnation I’d be nowhere near your match.”
Jared pinched the bridge of his nose, swallowing a sigh. So, all that swagger came from borrowing the Door of Reincarnation, yet the man still paraded around as the self-proclaimed Lord of Reincarnation. The arrogance was almost impressive.
