Inside the tower, years had slipped by like silent water, unnoticed except for the extra weight in Jared''s bones and the deeper hush in the surrounding chaotic aura.


    A breathter, his eyes snapped open, the gesture so sudden that the stillness cracked as though someone had struck a gong in a monastery just before dawn.


    Soundless thunder rolled from inside his body, not through air but through the weave of energy itself, rattling the bronze ribs of the Pentacarna Tower.


    The chaotic aura that hung inside the tower skittered away from him, coiling against the walls in restless waves, as though the building had suddenly remembered that it could drown.


    Light gathered in his pupils, wet and star-deep, and for an instant four muted colors —ash, prism, molten gold, pale gold-flickered across the ck like sparks that knew too many secrets.


    The ragged hole that once gaped in his chest had sealed without scar; skiny smooth and luminous, as if zed porcin had borrowed the warmth of living flesh.


    On the back of his right hand, the intertwined sigils of the five elements and earth- fire showed sharper lines, no longer inked but seemingly baked into bone before he was born.


    In his core, the Origin Star spun broader and heavier-one thirdrger than when he first staggered into the tower—its four colors braiding into a newborn dawn that promised both creation and extinction.


    The force leaking from that star already dwarfed the ceiling of a typical Top Level Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Five expert.


    His cultivation remained pinned at that visible peak, yet the fusion of the four forces, tempered by a death-and-rebirth crucible, had bent hisbat strength into something unmeasured.


    Even the bacsh from drawing the Divine Bow had faded; the right arm that once trembled now felt eager, almost insulted by the earlier weakness.


    "Time''s up," he murmured, the wordsnding softly but carrying the inevitability of a closing gate.


    His body blurred, and the next heartbeat ced him outside the Pentacarna Tower''s stone threshold.


    At the cavern mouth, Vermilion Demon Lord, who had been guarding since Jared entered, felt the shift first and snapped his gaze toward the tower.


    Sensing the quiet storm coiled beneath Jared''s restrained aura, the demon lord''s eyes red bright.


    "You are whole again? No-stronger!" he blurted, disbelief and relief tangling together.


    Jared inclined his head, offered no details, and walked with Vermilion Demon Lord toward the stone pavilion that anchored the valley''s center.


    Aurelian, ine, Oswald, and the remaining allies hurried over.


    The moment they saw the light in Jared''s posture, exhaustion peeled from their faces like winter snow under early sun.


    Aurelian stopped closest.


    "Jared, how are you feeling?" His voice rushed out, the question shivering on the edge of fear and hope.


    "No serious damage remains," Jared said.


    The in statement felt like an iron nail hammered straight through the group''s collective dread.


    He let his gaze move across them.


    Even after a month of rest, hollows still bruised most eyes, and each aura leaked fatigue; few had wed back half their strength.


    "Seniors,rades, there is one thing." The sybles dropped slow, deliberate, like stones disturbing still water.


    Conversation stilled; every gaze fixed on him, waiting for the stone to hit bottom.


    "I intend to pay Malevolent Path Hall a visit," Jared said, the calm in his tone somehow louder than any battle cry.


    The first shout-sharp, disbelieving-ricocheted through the pavilion and rattled beneath Jared''s ribs before he could answer.


    A second voice mmed in right after, rough with panic. "You can''t,” it barked, as though the singlemand could nail Jared''s boots to the gstones.


    Then someone else—maybe Aurelian, maybe ine—shouted over them, “Jared, have you lost your mind?!" The question felt less like concern than a fist demanding he retreat.


    The whole stone pavilion erupted: boots scraping, des cking, wounded throats forcing argument.


    The chaos washed over Jared in hot, sour waves.


    Aurelian pushed to his feet, blood still crusted at his temple.


    "Malevolent Path Hall is locked down, Jared," he warned, voice wobbling yet loud. "Morven and Malcolm may be hurt, but their foundations remain, and the Door of Reincarnation guards them."


    ine shook his head so hard the silver strands in his beard shed. "Kid, we hate them as much as you do, but revenge isn''t a sprint. Heal, regroup, then strike smart."


    Oswald''s newly scavenged iron sword trembled in his fist. The usually aloof swordsman growled, "If you''re going, I''m going."


    Jared lifted a palm, the gesture cutting through the mor more cleanly than any shout.


    "Everyone''s wounded, and Malevolent Path Hall knows it," he said, meeting each anxious gaze until they wavered. "That makes now the one moment they won''t expect us to move."


    "I''m not marching in for a final fight,"


    he continued, voice cooling into


    steel. "scout, and if an opening


    appears..." The chill in his eyes promised decapitation and chaos, bought in blood content


    Jared''s attention slid to the towering figure cloaked in roiling crimson haze.


    "Senior, hold the line here," he said. "When I return, we hunt for the Nine-Orifice


    Divine Soul Herb together. Your wish will be honored."


    The Vermilion Demon Lord opened


    his mouth, the brimstone in his


    breath mixing with unspoken worry But Jared''s resolve bureckto bright to argue, and atst the old demon only nodded hard. "Come


    back alive."


    More voices chased him, but Jared was already pivoting toward the gorge mouth, determination carrying him faster than any plea could snag.


    A breath hung half-drawn—something in the air shifted, tingling with unreadable


    intent.


    A low metallic hum—"Vmm”-pierced the hush, as though the sky dragged a de across unseen stone.


    Above the valley, the maskingbyrinth of mist and rock convulsed, ribbons of light tearing open like ripped canvas.


    Through the wound poured two titanic auras-overwhelming, yet curiously absent of malice forcing their way inside as if the heavens had granted them passage.


    The rm erupted from every throat at once: "Enemy attack?!" Terror and training tangled as des snapped up.


    Aurelian''s spett-force red, ine''s half-mauled war-beast materialized


    light speared skyward, and the. Demon Lord''s shadows bloomed every soul braced for ughter.


    with a pained roar, Oswalthe,


    Jared''s heart lurched, but he steadied his breathing, eyes narrowing toward the tearing sky.


    The rent in space folded outward, and two figures strolled through as casually aste guests slipping into a feast.


    The man in in grey robes led, schrly features soft, yet his gaze held oceans and centuries that made Jared feel newly born.


    Beside him floated a woman in an unadorned gown, beauty unmarred except for the fragile pallor of long illness; the way she looked at the grey-robed man was dawn learning to smile again.


    Their mere presence pressed against bone and spirit alike—power of the High Immortal Realm, and not its threshold but its towering middle floors. Strangest of all, the grey-robed man felt deeper still than Gerald at his peak, as though the sea itself had taken human shape and chosen politeness.


    Jared blinked. For a breath the courtyard, the smoke, the raw edges of his nerves froze. Then delight cracked through his chest, hot and unbelievable.


    He shed his hand through the air toward his men. "Hold it! Stand down. He''s with


    us!"