Chapter 45
"This is nothing less than harming the boy." He let out a low, grating cackle.
Deep in the clouds, Soren wore a playful half-smile, he showed no intention of looking back, let alone stopping.
Lysara’s red lips curled, and the complaint slipped out. "Do these people not know that Emperor-realm experts can hear sounds from a hundred miles away?"
Soren wasn’t remotely surprised they rejected Jared, or that they wanted Osmond back in the seat.
He had expected exactly this.
The Strategy Encyclopedia could conquer anything in the universe, of course it had told him what kind of men Osmond and those elders were, he had guessed they would try something the moment his back was turned.
Lysara hesitated, she was starting to think from his perspective now, planning on his behalf without being asked.
"Do you want me to go back and protect them?"
It pleased him that she offered on her own, though he couldn’t rule out she wanted the errand as a chance to slip away.
"No need."
"A few Spirit Venerables can’t stir up any real waves."
Lysara wondered at his calm, didn’t he want Jared groomed to command the entire Spirit race? What if something happened? The man was unreadable, giving off the feeling that nothing ever left his control.
Curiosity won. "Are you sure we can make it back before tomorrow?"
"Are you that confident in yourself?"
Soren’s eyes narrowed.
She realized in an instant she had misspoken, her whole manner of address, her tone with him, had been wrong from the first word.
A sky-blotting wave of demonic energy swallowed her whole, the dense wind blades inside scraped like flensing knives.
Soren traveled fast, tearing through the void in bursts like black lightning, and soon reached the deep interior of Black Dragon Mountain.
When he looked up and found a massive peak hidden in coiling clouds, wound around itself like a giant black dragon, he knew, the central mountain of the entire range.
One sweep of his gaze left him staring, the slopes crawled with spiritual trees and strange flora, priceless medicinal herbs grew wild in every direction.
The mountain was blessed beyond reason, exactly as he’d guessed, a complete, untouched treasure trove.
Whoever claimed Black Dragon Mountain would become the richest man alive on the herbs alone.
The dazzling spread pulled at him, but he knew what mattered more.
He looked up sharply toward the summit, at the very top stood an ancient stele, perfectly square, carved with no words at all.
The Dragon-Suppressing Stele poured out sonic waves without pause, they rolled in every direction, warping the air into rippling layers, the intensity here ran at least a hundred times what touched the fox clan’s territory.
Without the matching Spirit clan totem canceling it out, Soren could never have stood here, this was not something cultivation realm could resist, it demanded specialized means.
His purpose was an inspection, had the seal loosened? He intended to make Black Dragon Mountain his stronghold.
If the seal had slipped, he needed the method to reinforce it fast, if it couldn’t be reinforced, he would abandon the mountain without a backward glance, he refused to sit on a ticking bomb.
Lysara healed slowly, but she woke at the right moment, she kept her head down and stood timidly behind him, saying nothing.
The first thing she did on waking from grave injuries was no longer cursing him in her heart, now it was annoyance, and regret, at herself, what did I do wrong this time? How did I anger him again?
Soren saw every subtle change and said nothing, continuing toward the peak, she hurried after him.
Her reflexes had shifted too, she moved to shield her master now without needing to think.
The two landed near the ancient stele, at once, the Dragon-Suppressing Stele began bleeding a terrifying bloody intent.
Lysara threw herself in front of Soren, formations and spiritual pressure flaring to intercept the tide.
The stalemate held four, five seconds, then she forced the bloody intent back into the stele.
Soren watched it all calmly, she was sinking into the role.
Praise still had to be rationed now and then, nothing taught right from wrong faster. "Well done."
"Yes." Joy came first, a second later she froze, baffled by her own delight.
Her conviction was to eliminate demons and defend the Dao.
And now one word of praise from Soren made her this happy, it flew in the face of everything she believed.
For a moment her own transformation scared her into a cold sweat, could it be that my conviction is no longer slaying demons... but pleasing Soren?
She was an Emperor-realm expert, her Dao Heart firmer than most, her tier short of Absolute Loyalty, doubting her own fawning, hesitating, wavering was all natural.
None of it conflicted with her obedience, or the reflex to protect her master.
She shook her head, refused to dig deeper, and silently followed him toward the stele.
Then the blood essence intent and Spirit soul resentment inside the stele wove together.
The wordless face turned mirror-bright, becoming a screen of light, on it appeared a colossal Spirit fox.
Its body seemed built from thick, heavy ice crystal.
It had no fur, frost-colored scales sheathed it from head to tail.
The fox ran dozens of meters long, for all its strange, inborn allure, it was pure violence, trapped inside the Dragon-Suppressing Stele, fangs bared, claws raking at a barrier of light, every blow of those blade-length claws hit like muffled thunder.
"So this is the Spirit beast form of the Ice Heaven Alluring Fox."
Soren pulled what his inherited memories held on the clan.
The Spirit race and the Beast race were mirror opposites in form.
Spirits were born human-shaped, at the Emperor Realm, they could unleash their true Spirit beast form, multiplying strength several times over, destructive power and reach surging with it.
Beasts were born as beasts, at the Emperor Beast level, they could take human shape, compressing mountains of physical strength into a human-sized frame for sharper bursts and faster movement.
Rumor said the two races shared one deep origin, back in the Immemorial Era, the same was said of humans and demons.
Rumors only, in practice, all four races refused to acknowledge it, being tied to one’s opposite was treated as an insult, humans would never admit kinship with demons, and demons scorned the faintest connection to humans.