Jared knew the celestials thrived on rank; every rule inside this fortress screamed power above all. As Clive the envoy, he technically stood several rungs above simple gate guards, and Jared made sure they remembered it. When manners collapsed into open conflict, their badges could not protect them; Jared doubted they would gain any advantage.
He caught the flicker of confusion on their faces: why was the usually pliant envoy suddenly this fierce? Perhaps they blamed his sour mood on that rumored ambush; the thought darted across their eyes.
Or maybe they sensed deeper trouble in his mission and wanted no part of it. Jared could almost watch the possibilities tumble through their minds like dice across a board.
The right Divine Guard ground his teeth, stepped aside, and hissed, “Very well, Mr. Clive. Enter. But this isn’t over!”
Jared snorted, ignored them, and swept forward, cloak snapping as he crossed the vast threshold into the shadowed hall. Not until his silhouette vanished did the two guards finally let their fury boil over.
The left Divine Guard barked, “Damn that Clive! Hiding behind Venerable Glacier’s favor!” Heat throbbed across his cheek; the sting of humiliation nearly drove him mad.
“This isn’t finished!” he growled. The right Divine Guard’s eyes glimmered with venom. “The venerable will deal with him, we’ll see him crawl…” He spun on his heel. “Let’s alert the Law Enforcement Department under Venerable Celestial Metal. Report Clive’s erratic conduct for immediate review!”
The pair stalked off, unaware the man behind that face was someone else entirely.
*** Inside the corridor, Jared felt little stir; the incident had served its purpose. The slaps had been more than intimidation; they let him probe the celestials’ rules and measure how far Clive’s name would carry. The answer pleased him. Everyone he passed immediately moved to the side without being asked. Lower-ranked celestials bowed while stronger ones strode through unchallenged.
The pecking order hummed in the air like static Jared could taste on his tongue. He kept the borrowed power of being Venerable Glacier’s favored envoy wrapped around him like a cloak; as long as that emblem stayed bright, needless questions slid away.
Guided by Clive’s memories, he threaded the solemn corridors at a brisk pace. Celestials hurried past, faces blanked with duty. A few who knew Clive gave him a curt nod and kept moving—exactly the distance Jared wanted. After seven quick turns and several warded archways, Jared reached the northern annex known as Frigid Silence Hall.
The doors were shut, exhaling a steady breath of chill. No sentry stood outside, yet an icy pressure leaked from within, sharper than during his last visit—a silent warning that Venerable Glacier was home. Jared smoothed his robe, adjusted the faint hitch in his breathing so it matched a wounded man, then inhaled once and tapped the door with two measured knuckles.
“Enter…” The command drifted out, flat and glacial, carrying no hint of warmth—undeniably Venerable Glacier.
Jared pushed the door and stepped inside. The scene matched his memory down to the shadowed corners. Dim light hung above ice-blue floors and walls carved from ten-thousand-year glacier stone; the air bit like midwinter. At the far end, Venerable Glacier stood with hands folded behind him, back to the door, studying a tangle of star charts etched into the wall. His robe was black trimmed in azure, his hair white as frost; even the outline of his shoulders radiated a suffocating cold.
Jared strode forward and dropped to one knee about thirty meters away, forehead low. “Envoy Clive reporting, Venerable Glacier! The collection run in the eastern region is complete. I have come to render account!”
Venerable Glacier turned, movement slow as settling frost. His face was carved from ice. His gaze dragged over Jared like a drill of frozen steel.
“Rise…” His voice remained level.
“Task Jade Slip, offerings, soul crystals,” Jared answered, lifting the prepared Task Jade Slip from his chest and, after a heartbeat’s hesitation, a storage pouch conspicuously slimmer than it should be. He set both items on the glacial desk beside Venerable Glacier, then retreated three steps, hands at his sides. A pulse ticked in his jaw despite him; the tension slipped through the mask.
Venerable Glacier lifted the slip. A sweep of divine sense verified the route; no flaw found. Then he took the pouch, his awareness diving inside. The cold in the hall plummeted, frost spidering across the floor. A storm of murderous chill exploded from Venerable Glacier, slamming against every surface.
“Clive… Why are there barely three-tenths of the scheduled offering crystals? Rare materials are almost nonexistent, and you brought four soul crystals when the list demands seven. Where are the others? Where is the A11-73 Box from Jade Immortal Manor?”
Jared jerked, collapsing to both knees. His voice cracked. “Mercy, Venerable, please! There are reasons. Allow me to explain!”
“Speak!” Venerable Glacier’s eyes narrowed, cold blades fastening on him.
Jared spilled the rehearsed tale in one breath: shadowy assailants, ambushes, cargo seized under fire. He painted himself as the loyal envoy who bled to safeguard what little remained.
Venerable Glacier listened, frost growing thicker around his boots, scorn flickering behind the icy glare. “A mysterious enemy… Repeated ambushes… And they still wrested soul crystals from you?” He descended the ice steps one by one, looming over Jared.
“Clive, do you take me for a three-year-old?” He circled closer, pointing out the untouched bandages and the flush of healthy blood. “These wounds are showpieces, not the marks of repeated ambushes! More important, your soul ripple, however carefully forged, is a hair off from Clive’s. Speak! Who are you, and where is the real Clive?!”
A cold clarity settled over Jared’s mind; the playacting was finished. The accusation did not jar him. Jared had braced for it the instant he stepped inside. Cold air slid over his skin, and, almost in relief, his breathing leveled into an even rhythm.
He lifted his head. The tremor he had painted across his face vanished, wiped clean by a flat, glacial stillness that seemed to freeze even the torchlight reflecting in his eyes. Jared rose, unhurried.
The feeble wobble in his stance snapped away, replaced by a heavy, coiled presence. Chaotic force seeped from his pores, silent yet overwhelming, like a tide gathering under dark clouds.
Pressure exploded outward. Marble tiles groaned, frost on the walls shattered. Power at the very brink of the Heavenly Immortal threshold slammed through the chamber, thick enough to make the air ripple.
