Her smile vanished. Boots grinding against marble, Yuliana halted and threw him a warning glance. “Watch your tongue, Mr. Chance. Celestia stands among the highest powers of level six. You cannot tarnish it with careless words.” “You and I both know whether my words are careless,” Jared answered, stopping as well. “Roaring Storm Bell has been stolen, its seal on the demonic souls weakening by the hour, and still, Celestia busies itself with the marriage alliance to Celestial Palace. Rumor even whispers of back-door dealings with Malevolent Path Hall—nest of demon cultivators. Is that your idea of a premier power?” Yuliana’s pupils contracted. She lunged one step forward, lowering her voice until it trembled. “Who told you about Roaring Storm Bell? And who dares accuse Celestia of colluding with Malevolent Path Hall?” Moments ago, she had assumed Jared was merely an escort for the captive princess. At that moment, his knowledge knifed through her composure.

No ordinary cultivator possessed such secrets unless the force behind him had a hand in Roaring Storm Bell’s disappearance.

Jared watched the panic ripple across her face and allowed a thin, cold smile.

“I know far more than you imagine. Instead of prying into my origins, ask yourself this—when the demonic souls break free, will Celestia’s so-called nobility shield you from their hunger?” With that, he turned and strode down the torchlit passage, boots echoing like muted drums.

Yuliana remained frozen, turbulent thoughts crashing behind her calm mask.

Jared’s true purpose clearly reached beyond delivering a princess; it was entwined with the stolen Roaring Storm Bell itself. I must report to King Aurelius at once.

“Mr. Chance, Celestia’s Sacred Plaza lies ahead. King Aurelius is conducting the grand ritual there to ask for blessings from the divine being. If you wish an audience, I will lead you,” Yuliana said, quickening her pace to match his, new wariness sharpening her every glance.