Chapter 5758

Rockhold Gorge-once a disciplined garrison hollowed from living stone-now resembled the jaw of some ancient beast, its teeth knocked out and scattered. Fewer than a third of the disciples still breathed, and each of them bled somewhere.

Garrick leaned on a war-blade snapped clean in half. He managed to stay upright, but shame pressed on him harder than the wound in his side. When he saw Jared walking toward him, the elder’s gaze became a storm of emotions: relief at surviving, awe at Jared’s power—and, above all, a venomous, self-devouring regret.

He remembered his own arrogance: tossing a few low-grade celestial gems at Jared’s feet, ordering him off as though shooing a stray dog. Each memory slapped him harder than any enemy’s blade, welting both flesh and soul.

Had he not judged by appearances-had he greeted this unfathomable young man with courtesy-would Rockhold Gorge have suffered such ruin? Would so many bright disciples have died for nothing?

“S-Sir…” Garrick’s throat rasped like dry parchment. The hauteur that once braced his spine now fell away, leaving only a cringing plea.

“Thank you… Thank you for saving us. I was blind, unforgivably blind. Please… cleanse the Netherworld Ghostfire inside me. I will pay any price-anything!” he croaked.

He could feel the ghostfire burrowing deeper with every heartbeat, devouring his meridians and drinking his life. Without a true powerhouse to purge it, death would claim him within moments. The youth before him-Jared-was his final, flickering hope.