The telepathic message carried only one command: escape at all costs. Yet Uncle Jed knew the truth—surrounded by so many Saint-rank powerhouses, breaking free was nearly impossible.
The Windspirit Faction had just begun pressing them about the Sigil of the Wild Legion when Jed suddenly acted. Without warning, he drove a finger into his own chest, shattering the seal he had kept hidden. None of the enemy Saints had expected him to move so decisively, and for a brief instant, they were caught unprepared. Jed’s laughter rang out, raw and maniacal.
"You worthless brats—come die with me!"
But he did not detonate his power immediately. The momentary hesitation threw the mountaintop into chaos. The twelve Saints of the Windspirit Faction, sensing the imminent Heavenly Tribulation, instinctively scattered in panic.
Regis understood instantly. Jed could have unleashed his tribulation at once, ensuring maximum destruction. Instead, he chose to delay, to give the others a chance to escape. By doing so, he condemned himself to face the Heavenly Tribulation alone. And without preparation, no one—no matter how gifted—survived a Saint-rank tribulation unscathed. If he lived through it, it would be as a broken man, too wounded to stand against the Windspirit Faction.
Quinn and Hank’s faces hardened, realizing what he was sacrificing for them. Even Shaw Zilo, usually piggish and cowardly, cast a long, heavy look at Jed before fleeing with his lackeys. Baelor Wane, leading the Clearspring City contingent, paused only long enough to give Jed a formal bow of respect before withdrawing.
Regis wanted to stay, to fight, to do anything but abandon the man. Yet Hank and Quinn dragged him down the mountain by force. The chaos had already spread beyond the peak. The Sea of Death’s natural defenses, those towering hurricanes that scraped the sky, twisted out of control under the disruption. Winds roared, storms split apart, and through that chaos the three finally broke through to the ground, where the Central Dominion Guard—hidden just outside the Faction’s perimeter—waited anxiously.
Jed’s plan had been to lure the Windspirit Faction into their ambush, but fate rarely bowed to strategy. The ambush was wasted. Above them, lightning already crackled. The tribulation clouds spread wide, swallowing the Eye of the Hurricane in blackened thunder.
Dragging Dana and the unconscious Bongo close, Regis and the others fled until they were outside the Heavenly Tribulation’s range. From there, they turned back and saw Jed. He hovered shirtless in the storm, silver dragon spear gleaming in hand, his body outlined against the seething black clouds. For a moment, awe silenced them all. To reach the Saint rank was the dream of every Energy User. Beyond it lay only legend: the Voidbreaker. Yet here stood Jed, about to gamble his life against the heavens.
The first strike came. A purplish-black bolt, thick as an arm, tore the sky apart with an aura of annihilation. Jed didn’t block. Instead, he surged forward, spear in hand, charging straight toward the fleeing Saints.
Regis’s chest tightened, but he knew Jed’s intent. He wasn’t after them—his quarry was the enemy.
"Don’t run! Come die with me!" Jed roared. He could not outrun the storm, and the bolt of annihilation slammed into his back, cracking the sky and splitting stone.
He spat blood, but his charge never faltered. With every step, the tribulation clouds followed, dragging doom behind him. Five Saints were caught in its range almost instantly.
The sight left even veterans pale. To be targeted by someone else’s tribulation was a nightmare no Saint wanted. Though Jed was only undergoing his Saint-rank trial, the ones caught in its path were forced into the baptism of Void-level lightning, far beyond their strength. In moments, thunderclouds rolled across the Central Dominion. Several slower Saints, unable to flee in time, were swallowed and forced into their own Heavenly Tribulations on the spot.
Regis and the others clung to the Illusionary Qilin’s back, its speed carrying them just clear of the spreading storm. None of the Windspirit Saints dared chase them further. Jed was a madman, and his second lightning strike was already forming in the clouds. Every one of them prayed silently for his death, not from mercy, but from terror.
What happened after, Regis could only guess. None doubted Jed’s fate, but none of them wanted to speak it aloud.
When the tale ended, Ethan sat frozen. His chest clenched so tight it hurt. Jed had been the first man he met upon entering the Sea of Death, both a teacher and a companion. To hear of his sacrifice—after already losing KH3106—was almost unbearable. His eyes burned, but he forced the grief down. This was not the time to mourn.
Instead, he asked, "Then how did you end up wounded on your return? And why are the Central Dominion Guard and the Illusionary Qilin under the Blood Clan’s control?"
"Blood Clan?" Regis’s expression darkened. His gaze slid toward Dana, who had stood silently since their arrival, vacant-eyed and unresponsive.
Ethan’s frown deepened. Extending his Soul Sense, he swept over Dana and felt the foreign taint immediately. "Is she infected?" His voice sharpened. He strode forward, his body shifting into Druid’s Tree Form, roots and bark entwining with his limbs. Placing a hand on Dana’s brow, he cast Natural Healing, the dispelling energy sinking into her head.
Dana’s body shuddered once, then went still. Nothing changed. Ethan withdrew his hand, face grim. "It’s useless. The Blood Clan’s corruption runs too deep—I don’t even know what magic this is."
Regis finally answered, his tone cold. "We were almost back to Beastfall City when three Saints blocked us. Bongo... woke up then. She wasn’t herself, but in that state she cut them down. One dead, two broken in a single swing of her sword. That’s the only reason we made it back alive."
His voice grew heavy. "But the aura from her blade—that’s what tainted them. That’s why the Blood Clan is here now."
Ethan froze. A blood-red sword... he had seen it once before. During their charge to Hurricane City, when Bongo had drawn that cursed blade from the void and slain the Golden Falcon chief in a single strike. He had suspected something then, but now, hearing Regis’s words, the unease in his chest grew cold and sharp.
What exactly was Bongo?