Jared rolled the advice around in his mind and, to his surprise, found it reasonable.
In the celestial realm, he had always faced towering rivals, but here, he reigned—king, judge, and executioner.
He could christen himself with any mythical title he pleased, and no one would dare disagree.
"Where is this Immortal Lord Nimbus now?" Jared asked, his gaze sharpening like a blade eager for work.
Maurice hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't know. He appears at Obsidian Stone Sect only occasionally. A month ago, he came, took another mountain of gems, and vanished."
Jared's eyes narrowed; Immortal Lord Nimbus' secrecy hinted at sins Heaven itself might condemn.
"How exactly do you turn spiritual stones into celestial gems?" Jared pressed.
"With a secret method Immortal Lord Nimbus taught us," Maurice replied. "It needs a specific array and specialized equipment."
"Show me," Jared ordered, his voice calm yet uncompromising.
Maurice wavered, then nodded. "Very well—follow me."
He led Jared toward the canyon's far end, where colossal silhouettes loomed against the crimson dusk.
As the towering cauldrons emerged from the shadows, a flicker of genuine intrigue lit Jared's eyes.
"So these hulks are your refining devices?" he asked, brushing warm bronze with his fingertips.
"They are," Maurice confirmed.
He patted the nearest vessel—a Spirit-Conversion Cauldron personally forged by Immortal Lord Nimbus, built solely to transmute spiritual stones into celestial gems.
Jared stepped closer, studying the intricate engravings, each rune shimmering with faint silver light.
A soft breath of celestial energy seeped from the seams, confirming the cauldron's otherworldly origin. I'll give him this—Immortal Lord Nimbus does possess skill.
Without warning, Maurice thrust out a palm; a lance of midnight demon light ripped through the air, arrowing straight for Jared's back.
Quincy's warning ripped through the gloom like a whip crack. "Watch out!"
"All of you, come at once," Jared said, voice colder than drifting ash. "I'd rather not waste time hunting you one by one."
The disciples exchanged a single terrified glance, then rushed him, blades and talismans flashing.
Jared merely lifted two fingers. Each attacker dissolved into greasy smoke that curled upward and vanished, as though they had never existed at all.
Seeing that effortless annihilation, Maurice went slack with horror, his skin leaching to a corpse-grey hue. Only now did he grasp the abyss he'd provoked.
"Now, will you finally tell me everything you know about Immortal Lord Nimbus?" Jared murmured, eyes narrowing on the trembling elder.
"I-I've already told you all I know," Maurice stammered, shoulders quivering." Immortal Lord Nimbus' power is unfathomable—none of us dares pry too deeply into his affairs."
"Then you no longer have any reason to live."
Verdict delivered, Jared turned away, his cloak whispering across the flagstones.
A crushing aura rolled from him. Beneath its weight, Maurice's eyes bled, ears bled—every orifice wept crimson—and he collapsed, dead before a scream could form.

Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance)