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 copsed 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 med 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 cier''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 ps 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 passes shifts aside without being told. Lower-ranked celestials bow while stronger ones stride through unchallenged. The pecking order hums in the air like static Jared can taste on his tongue.


    He keeps the borrowed power of being Venerable cier''s favored envoy wrapped around him like a cloak; as long as that emblem stays bright, needless questions slide away.


    Guided by Clive''s memories, he threads the solemn corridors at a brisk pace. Celestials hurry past, faces nk with duty. A few who know Clive give him a curt nod and keep moving, exactly the distance Jared wants.


    After seven quick turns and several warded archways, he reaches the northern annex known as Frigid Silence Hall.


    The doors are shut, exhaling a steady breath of chill.


    No sentry stands outside, yet an icy pressure leaks from within, sharper than during


    hisst visit—a silent warning that Venerable cier is home.


    Jared smooths his robe, adjusts the faint hitch in his breathing so it matches a wounded man, then inhales once and taps the door with two measured knuckles.


    "Enter."


    Themand drifts out, t and cial, carrying no hint of warmth undeniably Venerable cier.


    Jared pushes the door and steps inside.


    The scene matches his memory down to the shadowed corners.


    Dim light hangs above ice-blue floors and walls carved from ten-thousand-year cier stone; the air bites like midwinter.


    At the far end, Venerable cier stands with hands folded behind him, back to the door, studying a tangle of star charts etched into the wall.


    His robe is ck trimmed in azure, his hair white as frost; even the outline of his shoulders radiates a suffocating cold.


    He strides forward and drops to one knee about thirty meters away, forehead low.


    "Envoy Clive reporting, Venerable cier. The collection run in the eastern region isplete. I havee to render ount."


    Venerable cier turns, movement slow as settling frost.


    His face is carved from ice. His gaze drags over Jared like a drill of frozen steel.


    "Rise."


    His voice remains level. "Task Jade Slip, offerings, soul crystals."


    Jared answers, lifts the prepared Task Jade Slip from his chest and, after a heartbeat''s hesitation, a storage pouch conspicuously slimmer than it should be.


    He sets both items on the cial desk beside Venerable cier, then retreats three steps, hands at his sides.


    A pulse ticks in his jaw despite him; the tension slips through the mask.


    Venerable cier lifts the slip. A sweep of divine sense verifies the route, no w found.


    Then he takes the pouch; his awareness dives inside.


    The cold in the hall plummets, frost spidering across the floor.


    A storm of murderous chill explodes from Venerable cier, mming 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 jerks, copses to both knees. His voice cracks. "Mercy, Venerable, please! There are reasons. Allow me to exin!"


    "Speak!"


    Venerable cier''s eyes narrow, cold des fastening on him.


    Jared spills the rehearsed tale in one


    breath-shadowy assants,


    ambushes, cargo seized under fire. He paints himself as the loyal envoy who bled to safeguard what little. remained.


    Venerable cier listens, frost growing thicker around his boots; scorn flickers behind the icy re.


    "A mysterious enemy... repeated ambushes... and they still wrested soul crystals from you?"


    He descends the ice steps one by one, looming over Jared.


    "Clive, do you take me for a three-year-old?"


    He circles 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 rity settles over Jared''s mind; the yacting is finished.


    The usation 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 t, cial stillness that seemed to freeze even the torchlight reflecting in his


    eyes.


    Jared rose, unhurried.


    The feeble


    wobble in his stance snapped away,


    reced by a heavy, coiled


    presence. Chaotic force seeped


    from spores silent yet overwhelming, like a tide gathering under dark clouds.


    5


    Pressure exploded outward. Marble tiles groaned, frost on the walls shattered. Power at the very brink of


    the only immortal threshold mmed through the chamber, thick enough to make the air ripple.