The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5894

"Lindsay! So you were hiding here after all!" Ignatius thundered. "And you two outsiders—how dare you trespass upon Earthfire Pavilion's forbidden ground?"

Elliot stepped forward, thrusting an accusatory finger toward Jared. "Mr. Flameheart, I witnessed everything. Jared Chance and this demon slipped into the rear mountain under the cover of darkness. They dismantled the array using secret techniques, intending to steal the Earthfire Pavilion's core secrets. Thankfully, I reported it at once. Had I not, the consequences would be unimaginable. Furthermore, I suspect these two are spies of Malevolent Path Hall, here to gather intelligence and pave the way for an ambush!"

Lindsay quivered from head to toe, her fingers curled so tight her knuckles blanched. "Lies! I was the one who showed them in! Jared was gravely wounded and needed someplace quiet to mend, so I—"

"Lindsay, stop making excuses for them!" Elliot interrupted, his voice cracking across the courtyard like a whip.

He stepped forward—tall, fiery-eyed, every line of his face carved with injured righteousness—then raised his voice so that every disciple ringing the stone plaza could hear. "I know you're kind at heart, Lindsay. You mean well, but Jared Chance has blinded you. Think about it, will you? Why would a stranger convince you to risk breaking Earthfire Pavilion's rule and smuggle him into the forbidden ground? Clearly, he has bewitched you with some form of black magic!"

"I—" The single syllable caught in Lindsay's throat, too fragile to become a sentence.

Words failed. The young woman's lips parted soundlessly before she looked away, lashes trembling.

I cannot admit I did it because I have already given him my heart.

Ignatius' face darkened to the color of banked coals. His gaze slid toward Jared as though he were already a corpse. "Jared Chance, have you anything to say for yourself?"

Jared lifted his head, calm as sunrise over still water. "Mr. Flameheart, it is true I've trespassed. Princess Lindsay's kindness made that possible, and I owe her more than I can repay. But going so far as to call me a spy from Malevolent Path Hall?"

He turned ever so slightly toward Elliot, a cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "Perhaps you should first ask Mr. Elliot who he contacted in his room with a message talisman three nights ago. The residual aura on that talisman is identical to that of the cultivators from Malevolent Path Hall."

A hush swept the assembly; disciples and elders alike stared, breaths caged behind their teeth.

Elliot's face drained of color, then blazed scarlet. "How dare you spew such lies! When have I ever used a message talisman? Mr. Flameheart, this man is sowing discord between us. Don't believe his words!"

"Is that so?" Jared said flatly. "Then pray tell, Mr. Elliot, why does the third button inside your left sleeve carry a thread of nether aura unique to a Spirit-Wraith Voice Talisman? That, as you know, is the signature tool of the Malevolent Path Hall."

Instinct yanked Elliot's eyes to his sleeve. Panic flashed and was gone, buried beneath forced composure.

He straightened, laugh brittle. "Nonsense! I've just changed into these clothes today, so what nether aura are you talking about? If Mr. Flameheart doubts me, I'm happy to let the elders inspect my clothes."

One elder stepped forward, spiritual sense sweeping through cloth and seam. Brow furrowing, he murmured, "Mr. Flameheart, I detect no nether aura."

Relief spilled across Elliot's features. He flicked Jared a victorious glance. "Well? Do you have anything else to say, Jared?"

To his surprise, Jared remained unperturbed. "Oh? Then perhaps I remembered incorrectly. But Mr. Flameheart, could you check what's hidden beneath the third floor tile under Mr. Elliot's bed?"

Upon hearing that, Elliot went rigid, smile shattering like glass.

Beneath that tile rested the other message talisman he used to communicate with Malevolent Path Hall, and a porcelain vial of Blood-Fiend Pills that Bennett had given him as payment.

"H-How could you know about that?" The admission burst out before Elliot caught himself.

He swallowed hard and blurted, "I mean—there is nothing under my bed! This is nothing but slander!"

Alas, the damage was done.

Ignatius needed no further proof; the faint twitch at the corner of Elliot's eye had told him enough.

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