Deep within the Myriad Sword Mountains of the Mystic Sky Sword Sect, twilight clouds draped the peaks like silk.


    Inside a guest courtyard perched on one such peak, Jared reclined in a warm pool, eyes half-shut in tranquil repose.


    Pale blue spirit mist drifted off the liquid, threading into his pores and peeling away the fatigue of countless miles.


    The bath that Linden prepared for him had been simmered from a thousand-year spirit milk and a score of rare herbs, each swirl knitting hidden wounds and shoring up Jared''s foundations.


    "Sir Chance, is the pressurefortable?" one of the two Mystic Sky Sword Sect female disciples asked, fingers kneading his shoulders with surgical grace.


    Their touch carried the faint hum of sword energy, loosening meridians while never crossing the line into difort.


    "Yes," Jared murmured, the word driftingzily across the water.


    How did a simple visit turn into royal treatment with attendants?


    He hade as a guest and been crowned an honored lord; refusal would have bruised Linden''s courtesy, so he endured the pampering with bemused restraint.


    For a man ustomed to walking the world alone, the silk cushions and whispered service felt less like luxury and more like an ill-fitting robe-elegant, but never truly his.


    Master Cloudridge—what a sly old fox. He bows, he tters, yet every courtesy is a probe. The warmer his smile, therger his appetite. He craves news of the Soul Devourer and, more than that, the truth about the shadowy power standing behind me. He''ll gut the heavens to learn it.


    Jared reclined in the steaming waters of the pool, weighing his next move against the sect master''s inevitable tests, when a sharp, indignant cry cracked the quiet courtyard.


    "Who''s inside? Such arrogance! You dare monopolize the Sword Cleansing Pool and order inner disciples about?"


    The voice grew louder with brisk, angry footfalls skimming across the te path beyond the gate.


    The wooden doors were yanked open with a creak, and a sh of scarlet swept in— quick, hot, and uninvited.


    She looked scarcely past twenty, tall and poised in a fire-red gown. Porcin


    features framed wide, almond eyes now zing with fury, pale skin set aglow by the color roaring around her.


    A long sword in a vermilion sheath


    hung at her waist, its tassel


    trembling like a tongue of me


    each time she moved. The woman Kerself seemed a living


    torch-radiant, vtile, impossible to ignore.


    The moment she crossed the threshold, her gaze locked on Jared, half-submerged


    in the luminous pool, then flicked to the two attendants kneeling at the rim. Her expression turned icy.


    "ra!" the two young women gasped, scrambling upright in a flurry of bows.


    Their knuckles went white against their robes; they knew all too well the temper coiled behind that crimson silk.


    ra Mayfield spared them not a nce. She strode to the pool''s lip, looking down on Jared as though on an insect, disdain pooling in her bright eyes.


    "Human Immortal Realm, seventh tier? Hmph-hardly a legend. Who gave you the nerve to upy my Mystic Sky Sword Sect''s Sword Cleansing Pool andmand the disciples like servants?"


    Jared lifted his eyelids, pupils calm as still water, and regarded the ming apparition with unhurried interest.


    Her attire, her bearing, and the deference shown by the attendants announced high standing—yet rank alone had never impressed Jared.


    Since when have I answered to a petnt girl?


    "And you are?"


    His tone drifted outzy, almost drowsy, as if the young woman''s wrath were no more than summer wind rustling bamboo.


    "ra Mayfield," she snapped, brows nted like drawn des. "Linden Cloudridge the sect master-is my father. Even core disciples must earn great merit to touch this pool What right do you, an outsider, have?"


    Ah, the sect master''s daughter. Jared''s bemusement settled into understanding; the arrogance tracked perfectly.


    "Your father ced the pool at my disposal," Jared said, smiling mildly. "If you''re dissatisfied, feel free to take it up with him."


    "You!" ra choked, anger reddening


    her cheeks, "Don''t brandish my


    father at me. You must have tricked him with boneyed words. A mere.


    sitor


    Level Seven Human Immortal shown such honor? Absurd! Now


    get out, this instant, or I''ll remove you myself."