Chapter 5795

Deep within the Myriad Sword Mountains of the Mystic Sky Sword Sect, twilight clouds draped the peaks like silk.

Inside a guest courtyard perched on one such peak, Jared reclined in a warm pool, eyes half-shut in tranquil repose.

Pale blue spirit mist drifted off the liquid, threading into his pores and peeling away the fatigue of countless miles.

The bath that Linden prepared for him had been simmered from a thousand-year spirit milk and a score of rare herbs, each swirl knitting hidden wounds and shoring up Jared’s foundations.

“Sir Chance, is the pressure comfortable?” one of the two Mystic Sky Sword Sect female disciples asked, fingers kneading his shoulders with surgical grace.

Their touch carried the faint hum of sword energy, loosening meridians while never crossing the line into discomfort.

“Yes,” Jared murmured, the word drifting lazily across the water.