Jared waved the apology aside. “Save the self-blame. You just saved Luther and me; we should be thanking you.”
Grace blinked. “I saved my Benefactor?” Seeing her confused, Jared smiled thinly. “Without your trouble we’d never have crossed paths.” His tone lightened. “Otherwise we’d still be wandering these hills like headless flies, with no idea where to find the Celestial Basilica.”
The image cracked the tension; Grace let out a quick laugh, the shadow in her eyes easing. Luther chuckled as well. “Mr. Chance is right. Miss Grace, forget the elixir for now. We’ll earn what we need.”
Grace inclined her head. “I’m willing to follow Benefactor to Cloudhaven City and explain the land along the way.”
“Very well.” Jared saw no reason to refuse. Their figures turned to streaks of light and shot toward Cloudhaven’s direction.
Three thousand miles meant barely an hour for High Immortal Realm cultivators. During the flight, Grace laid out the Fourteenth Firmament’s fundamentals for Jared and Luther.
She explained that thirty-six principal cities formed the framework, each main city overseeing dozens or even hundreds of small immortal towns. Seven cities fell under the Celestial Palace, six under the Celestial Basilica, five under the Celestial Court; the remaining eighteen were held by neutral factions and old bloodlines.
Cloudhaven ranked as a border city of moderate size where influence tangled and shifted. Nominally it answered to the Celestial Palace, but their grip here was weak at best.
While they processed the facts, the mist ahead thinned, revealing a vast city that rose from cloud banks like a fortress.
Cloudhaven City: its walls climbed a hundred yards high, fashioned from blue-gold stones that gleamed beneath the sun. Every hundred steps a watchtower pierced the wall, each crowned by a fist-sized luminous sphere ready to strip away stealth.
The gate itself soared nearly thirty yards tall, its panels carved with rolling-cloud peaks so lifelike they seemed to breathe. Four armored sentries in gold stood to either side, each at High Immortal Realm Level Five, eyes sharp as hawks.
Grace spoke under her breath, “Entry costs one bottle of elixir per head and grants seven days inside. Long-term stay requires an identity token.” She reached for her jade vial, but Jared raised a hand to halt her.
“That won’t be necessary.” Jared drew out a Storage Ring he had yet to inventory since level thirteen, courtesy of a slain Celestial Grand Venerable. A quick sweep of divine sense revealed tools, pills, jade slips, plus a crystal flask holding roughly thirty bottles of pale-gold liquid. Celestial elixir, without question. Jared withdrew three bottles and placed them in Grace’s hands. “Use these first.”
Surprise flickered in her gaze. “Benefactor, how did you come by celestial elixir?”
Jared balanced the crystal vial between two fingers, shoulders loose, as though the story hardly mattered. His tone stayed flat. “I killed a Celestial Grand Venerable and picked this up on the way.”
The words left his mouth with the same weight someone else might give directions to the market. Across from him, Grace’s breath snagged. Her lips parted around a quick, involuntary gasp, the kind that yanked a chill into the chest before the mind could hide it.
A Celestial Grand Venerable stood above High Immortal Realm Level Eight—power second only to an Elder. That kind of title usually forced whole courts to bow.
She already knew—every wanted notice across the firmament screamed that Jared had ended such a monster—but reading a line of script was one thing, and hearing the man himself say it like yesterday’s weather was another.
The admission cracked through her composure all the same, rattling expectations she thought she had settled. Awe took the room that half-second longer than reason allowed. After a measured blink, she said nothing further, only met Jared’s eyes, nodded once, and handed the three vials of celestial elixir to the gate guard.
The guard accepted the bottles, flipped each one to study the rune etched under the base, let the sigil flare briefly in verification, then produced three jade-green tokens and pressed one into every waiting palm.
“Keep those safe. Return them when you leave.” His voice never left the bureaucratic register. “No flight inside the walls, no fighting. Break the rules, expect punishment.”
Jared slid the token into a sleeve pocket, then stepped past the threshold with Luther and Grace falling into stride beside him. Cloudhaven City opened around them like curtains drawn back from a stage, light rushing in after the dim of the gate tunnel.
A roadway nearly thirty feet wide shot straight ahead, storefronts crowded shoulder to shoulder on both sides, signboards flashing sigils in every color Jared could name.
One shop glinted with weapon racks, the next overflowed with raw materials, another exhaled the sweet bite of pill furnace smoke, and farther on a tea house rang with riotous laughter—busier, louder, and ten times richer than any city he had seen on level thirteen.
Cultivators passed in streams, faces and robes as different as clouds. Their cultivation levels bounced from High Immortal Realm Level Four clear up toward Nine, though the last was rare enough that whenever one drifted by, the street seemed to fold away in deference.
The phenomenon played out twice before Jared reached the next crossroad; pedestrians sensed the faint oppressive field, sidestepped, bowed, and only then resumed gossip. Luther breathed the conclusion out loud. “The Fourteenth Firmament really does worship strength.”
Grace agreed, eyes still tracking the crowd. “Level Nine is peak combat power here. Most Elders sit there. True High Immortal Realm masters, city lords, and sect masters rarely bother to walk public streets.” She paused, lifted a hand, and indicated a five-story tower gleaming at the avenue’s far end. “Waygate Hall… The teleportation array to Luminous Sanctuary sits on the top floor.”
Jared followed her gesture. The whole structure shone silver; above the roof, a massive Spatial Arcane Array, visible even in daylight, pulsed with quiet flashes. “Let’s find out what a jump costs,” he said.
The trio threaded through the incoming traffic and entered Waygate Hall, merging with a flow of travelers that never quite thinned. They climbed to the third floor without stopping and located the desk marked for Luminous Sanctuary transfers.
The desk’s enforcer, a clean-shaven man, High Immortal Realm Level Seven by the feel of him, lifted his head just far enough to acknowledge them.
His gaze skimmed the group. Two unfamiliar men. One tired woman. Probably wandering cultivators. His courtesy cooled accordingly. “Luminous Sanctuary? One hundred twenty bottles each.”
Jared’s brow creased. “We heard it was one hundred. Why the increase?”
The enforcer exhaled through his nose. “That was an hour ago. Celestial Palace imposed a Sacred Mountain renovation levy; every array cost rose twenty percent. If it’s too steep, don’t go.”
A hard glint flared in Luther’s eyes, shoulders squaring for trouble, but Jared’s hand landed on his arm before the impulse could launch. “Where in the city can a person earn celestial elixir quickly?”
The question, politely given, softened the clerk’s edge. “Earn? Easy enough. Sell treasures at Treasurevault House, take a Mercenary Guild contract, or muscle in the Essence Refinery for a day. With nothing valuable on you, the refinery’s your bet—two to three bottles for a full shift.”
Jared inclined his head. “Appreciated.”
They stepped back onto the staircase. The line of Grace’s mouth tightened, color draining again. “One hundred twenty each… That’s three hundred sixty bottles for the three of us…” Her whisper scraped. “I thought three hundred would cover it. The Celestial Palace squeezes blood from stone.”
Jared’s pulse never spiked. “Three hundred sixty isn’t impossible. We’ll find a way.”
They exited Waygate Hall and rejoined the main avenue, heading deeper into the city’s current.
