Jared did not dodge, nor did he conjure the faintest shimmer of celestial light shield. He simply stood there, calm as a mountain amid thunder.


    "Is he insane?!" someone in the crowd eximed, voice coated with pure disbelief.


    A towering crimson fist-nothing but condensed me and fury-plunged toward him, ready tond.


    Jared lifted his right hand, spread his fingers, then closed them with almostzy grace around the iing mirage.


    Pop.


    The blow burst like a soap bubble.


    An attack fierce enough to maim a Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Six cultivator unraveled three feet from his palm. The energy dissolved into raw fire spiritual energy, drifting away on the breeze.


    Throughout the process, Jared''s hand never once shook.


    "W-What?" The young enforcer stammered as his eyes bulged.


    Every spectator froze, statues carved from shock.


    Jared had taken a Level Seven Combat Puppet''s strike head-on, walked away unscathed, then crushed it like an eggshell.


    What kind of a monster was he?


    "Second strike!" The enforcer forced the words out, his voice trembling.


    Red light red hotter in the puppet''s eyes. Both arms rose. Twin fists collided, spawning a spinning fireball nearly a foot across, its surfaceced with crackling blue arcs-thirty percent stronger than before.


    "Attack!"


    The puppet shoved. The zing orb screamed through the air, heat distorting the path it carved.


    Despite that, Jared still did not move.


    He did not even raise a hand.


    With just a thought, golden light instantly enveloped his entire body, and Golem Body was activated.


    Boom!


    The fireball mmed into the golden veil, detonating in white re and a crack loud enough to shake lungs.


    When the smoke curled away, Jared remained exactly where he had started.


    The golden film around him rippled once, whole and unscarred.


    Even the gstones beneath his bootsy uncracked the barrier had swallowed every shred of force.


    "Impossible..." someone whispered, as though watching their faith crumble to dust. The words hung in the air while the crowd''s certainty died, one heartbeat at a time. "Third strike!" The young enforcer''s voice cracked through the testing hall, raw with disbelief and the panic of a man watching the impossible unfold.


    He stood there, lungs tight, mind nk, every scrap ofposure scalded away by the spectacle before him.


    Across the arena, the Combat Puppet''s eyes zed scarlet until they resembled twin suns about to burst. Its massive frame shuddered so violently that brass joints screeched, and aplicated array carved into its chest red alive, siphoning every shred of fire-type spiritual energy from the air.


    A deep, metallic hum rolled outward, vibrating through the stone floor and rattling ribs.


    Above the puppet''s steel skull, a colossal greatsword of pure crimson me coalesced inch by inch, each ember locking into ce as though hammered by an invisible smith.


    Three stories tall, the de writhed with


    dragon phantoms that hissed around its


    edge, radiating a heat so savage it seemed to blister the soul and a sword aura sharp enough to flense bone.


    This was the Level Seven Combat Puppet''s ultimate technique-me Dragon sh.


    Witnesses whispered that a full-force blow from it rivaled the strike of a Top Level Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Seven cultivator.


    "sh!"


    The puppet brought both arms down. The ming greatsword crashed toward Jared, promising to cleave heaven, earth, and every fragile thing between.


    Even seasoned cultivators at Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Five and Level Six staggered back, chests tight, breaths stolen by the pressure that poured from the descending de.


    Only then did Jared move.


    He lifted his left hand, pressed his index and middle fingers together, and raised them toward the falling inferno as though about to pluck a stray thread.


    Yes-he meant to pinch a ming sword the height of a house with just two fingers.


    Around the arena, gasps turned to horrified silence. To every onlooker, the gesture looked like nothing short of suicidal.


    And yet-


    Ding!


    A bell-clear ring snapped through the hall. Jared''s two fingers mped the ming de''s tip, holding the entire mountain of fire and steel as easily as one might still a quivering candlewick.


    The sword''s deadly plunge halted. Dragon shadows coiled and roared in frustration, powerless to advance another inch.


    The next second, Jared exerted the slightest pressure.


    Crack!


    Hairline fractures spider-webbed outward from the de''s tip, fine as frost on winter ss.


    In a single heartbeat, those cracks raced the sword''s full length, until every glowing inch of it trembled on the brink of ruin.


    "Break," Jared uttered.


    Boom!


    With that, the three-story de exploded into a storm of ember shards. Fire rained


    in dazzling sheets, yet each spark that neared Jared nced off the thin golden


    aura sheathing his body and winked out of existence.


    When thest cinder died, only two figures remained within the test arena: a Combat Puppet, its power reserves spent, standing dull and lifeless and a man in pale green robes hands folded behind his back, clothing rusting in a breeze born of his own quiet supremacy?


    The Mission Hall plunged into a graveyard hush, as though every brazier had sputtered out in the same instant.


    That silence lingered-ten full breaths, perhaps more-until it felt endless, as if the very air had forgotten how to move.


    Then the spell snapped. Voices detonated overhead, rolling across the vaulted


    rafters like war drums suddenly unleashed.


    "Oh, my goodness! What did I just see?"


    "He caught a Level Seven Combat Puppet''s me Dragon sh with his bare hands and crushed it!"


    "I-Is he really at Heavenly Immortal Realm Level One? Who''s he trying to fool?"


    "With that power, he has to be at least a Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Eight... No, Level Nine! He might already be brushing the threshold of the High Immortal Realm!"


    "Earthfire Pavilion has struck gold this time!"


    The cultivators who had mocked Jared only moments ago burned scarlet with shame, each wishing for a fissure to swallow him whole.


    The burly heckler slipped to the back of the crowd, shoulders hunched, praying the young man''s gaze would never find him.


    The young enforcer drew three deep breaths, steadying the storm hammering inside his chest.


    He stepped up to the supervising elder, bowed, and spoke. "What''s your judgment, Elder Zuver?"


    The elder rose, robes whispering, and strode to Jared. His eyes gleamed with admiration and inquiry. "Remarkable technique, young friend. May I know your name and who your master is?"


    Jared offered a polite bow. "I am Jared Chance. I''m a wandering cultivator and have no fixed master."


    "A wandering cultivator?"


    A flicker of surprise crossed the elder''s gaze, yet he pressed on with a warm nod. "Your strength far exceeds our guard requirement. With you aboard, this escort mission gains a mountain of safety."


    "I am Royce Zuver, one of Earthfire Pavilion''s outer court elders. If you''re interested,


    I''m more than happy to wee you into Earthfire Pavilion as an inner court disciple once this mission ispleted."


    As soon as Jared was offered direct admission to bing an inner court disciple, sharp intakes of envy rippled through the hall.


    Within the ze Region, Earthfire Pavilion reigned. Its inner court disciples enjoyed


    the prestige that ordinary cultivators could chase for a lifetime and never grasp.


    Yet Jared only smiled, calm as


    autumn water. "Thank you for thinking so highly of me, Elder Zuver. For now, only seek the mission''s pay and the tempering it brings We can discuss joining Earthfire Pavilion another day."


    Thankfully, Royce did not press. "Very well-each to his own path. Having passed the trial, you are hereby a guard on this mission. And who is thispanion of yours?" he asked as he turned toward Vermilion Demon Lord.


    "This is myrade, Mr. Vermilion," Jared said, introducing the demon lord with a respectful tilt of his head.


    Vermilion Demon Lord stepped forward, releasing the steady aura of a Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Six cultivator—respectable, if less earth-shaking than Jared''s disy.


    "Mr. Vermilion has also passed the trial," Royce dered. "Please step forward to register and receive your Guard Tokens. Assemble outside the south gate at dawn tomorrow. Do not bete."


    Jared dipped his chin in a slow, unhurried nod. "Understood." The single syble rang across the marble floor like a gavel, final and undeniable.


    Once the registry clerk stamped the parchment, Jared and Vermilion Demon Lord epted two crimson Guard Tokens. The medallions pulsed with faint heat against their palms-formal proof they now served as escorts for Earthfire


    Pavilion.


    They turned and strode from Mission Hall. Behind them, a sea of cultivators craned for a better look, whispers rising like sparks that refused to die in the air.


    "Jared Chance... It won''t be long before every street in Crimson me City learns of that name."


    "With such strength yet so unassuming, this person is definitely not ordinary."


    "Hey, Malevolent Path Hall posted a bounty on someone called Jared Chance, too. Could he be the one?"


    "Hush! Watch your words! You can''t say stuff like that without thinking!"