Two days passed in quiet transformation.
With the help of Jalen's wind-infused potion, Nate had finally stabilized the chaotic energy within him. The wind orb's power no longer surged uncontrollably through his meridians, threatening to tear him apart. Instead, it flowed smoothly—refined, tempered, and harmonized. His wind physique had evolved, subtly reshaping his body and spirit. The air around him responded instinctively now, like a loyal companion.
Jalen observed the changes with a silent nod. The subrealm had served its purpose. Nate had gained more than strength—he had gained control. But staying longer would be reckless. The cultivators who had sensed the orb's awakening were still out there, and many were stronger than Nate. If they attacked, Jalen would be forced to flatten the entire subrealm—and that was a mess he didn't care to clean up.
So he left with Nate.
They emerged into the bustling capital city of Shark State, a place teeming with life, trade, and hidden dangers. Jalen took Nate to a restaurant—one of the finest in the district. No more dried rations or cave-foraged herbs. Tonight, the boy would feast.
"Order whatever you want," Jalen said, tossing a pouch of spirit coins onto the table.
Nate's eyes sparkled. "Really?"
Jalen nodded. "Eat."
And eat he did. Plates piled high with roasted spirit beast meat, steamed lotus buns, windfruit nectar, and flame-grilled river eel. Nate devoured it all with the enthusiasm of someone who hadn't tasted comfort in years. Jalen watched quietly, sipping tea, his gaze occasionally drifting toward the shadows.
They were being watched.
He didn't need spirit sense to know it. The glances were too frequent, the auras too restrained. Crimson Vale Sect? Yale family? Some unknown enemies? Possibly all of the above. But no one made a move, so Jalen didn't either.
When Nate finally leaned back, groaning with satisfaction, Jalen paid the bill and led him out. Instead of heading to the underground ridges or back-alley inns they usually relied on, Jalen booked a room in a luxury hotel—one with silk sheets, spirit baths, and a view of the moonlit harbor.
Nate's eyes widened as they entered the suite.
"I've never been anywhere like this," he said as he bounced on the bed, laughing like a child, the weight of cultivation and survival momentarily forgotten.
Jalen stood by the window, unreadable as always, though inwardly pleased. The boy deserved this—peace and a moment untouched by chaos.
Watching him like this stirred memories of Jael.
He missed his son. And he was certain the little boy missed him too, every single day. That certainty wasn't born of hope—it pulsed through the bond they shared, subtle but constant, like a heartbeat echoing across distance.
Eventually, Nate drifted off, curled beneath the blankets, his breathing soft and steady.
Jalen stepped out into the hallway, flask in hand. He took a sip of spirit wine and leaned against the wall, letting the silence settle.
Then she appeared.
A woman in a flowing, midnight-blue dress—elegant, poised, and unmistakably noble. She walked with the grace of someone used to being obeyed.
"You look younger in person than on your poster, mystery boy," she said, seating herself across from him.
Jalen didn't respond.
"I'm Sandra Ruthven," she continued. "The hundred-and-first princess of the Shark State royal family."
Still no reaction.
"Not even a flicker of curiosity?" she asked, amused. "I'm here on behalf of the royal court. We'd like to recruit you."
Before she could elaborate, Jalen spoke—his voice flat, final.
"No. Leave."
Sandra chuckled softly. "Are you sure? If you joined us, the Crimson Vale Sect wouldn't dare touch you. You'd have protection, prestige, resources…"
"If that's all you have to say," Jalen interrupted, "then leave."
She stood, brushing imaginary dust from her dress. "Very well. But I'll give you a day to think about it."
She turned, paused at the doorway, and glanced back.
"This is a once in a life time opportunity kid, don't waste it."
Then she vanished, her presence lingering like perfume in the air.
Jalen didn't move. He took another sip from his flask, eyes distant.
___
"Did you have a good sleep," Jalen asked as Nate sit up in bed stretching and yawning.
"The best in ages," Nate said with a please smile.
"Alright go clean up and get dress we leaving," Jalen said.
Nate didn't ask why. He simply nodded and complied. "Yes master."
After washing off in the spirit bath and donning fresh robes, he and Jalen exited the hotel. Outside, a group of unknown cultivators stood waiting.
An early Sage Realm expert, two Peak Immortal Realm experts, and several Peak Spirit Fusion Realm warriors. Their robes bore no insignia, but their posture was unmistakable—trained, disciplined, lethal. And surrounding them was a formation spanning over a mile, its runes etched into the cobblestones and rooftops, glowing faintly with containment energy.
Nate didn't know the full story, but he could sense the tension. His instincts screamed danger. Yet when he glanced at Jalen, the man's expression was relaxed, almost bored.
That calmed him.
The lead cultivator, the sage realm expert stepped forward. He was tall, with silver hair and eyes like polished obsidian.
"Come with with me," he said. "You've been summoned."
Jalen raised an eyebrow. "By whom?"
"The Royal Court."
Jalen sighed. "I already declined."
The man's lips twitched. "Princess Sandra anticipated that. She said you might need... persuasion."
Jalen looked him dead in the eye. "You think this is enough to contained me?"
The man however thought Jalen was just bluffing. After all this formation is even strong enough to contained a sage realm expert for at least twenty five minutes, enough time for him and his team here to apprehend this boy.
"Stop being stubborn you little brat," the man said. "Come quietly, or—"
Jalen vanished with Nate using Flash Reversion, leaving the man stunned. The formation should have held—teleportation was impossible within its bounds.
But the intel they'd received on Jalen had been flawed. Back when he escaped George, they'd mistaken Eclipse Motion for teleportation. That misjudgment had shaped the formation's design.
It was built to trap those who relied on spatial qi—movement techniques, spatial formations, all accounted for. But it wasn't prepared for Flash Reversion.
And now, their target was gone.