The severed-arm cultivator roared, his voice echoing across the scorched ruins of the palace. Blood poured from the stump at his shoulder, but rage burned hotter than pain.
"You dare attack a member of the Crimson Vale Sect?" he bellowed. "Do you have a death wish?!"
His fury drew attention. Crimson Vale cultivators surged toward the scene, their robes billowing, auras flaring. But they weren't the only ones. Members of other top sects and noble families, drawn by the chaos and the scent of power, arrived in waves. The air grew heavy with tension, the pressure of dozens of high-level cultivators pressing down like a storm.
Jalen didn't spare them a glance.
His focus was entirely on Rana.
She hovered weakly in the air, her body trembling. Her eyes widened in shock the moment she saw him—but beneath that surprise was something deeper. Relief. Her strength had run dry. Her qi reserves were depleted, her spirit flame flickering like a dying ember. And then, without warning, her body gave out.
She fell.
Jalen moved in a blur, catching her before she hit the ground. His arms wrapped around her gently, cradling her as if she were made of glass.
"I got you, flame brain," he said with a faint smirk.
Rana's cheeks flushed instantly. Even in her weakened state, his teasing made her heart flutter.
Without hesitation, Jalen activated Flare of Recursion, the twelfth technique of the Light Art. A soft, white light enveloped her body, weaving through her wounds and broken meridians. Her injuries began to heal, and her qi surged—restored to nearly half in seconds.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Even the arrogant cultivators of the Crimson Vale Sect stared in stunned silence. That technique—its precision, its potency—was unlike anything they'd seen. Healing arts were rare, but this was something else. Something ancient. Refined.
The one-armed brute, still seething, mistook Jalen's focus for vulnerability. He lunged again, hoping to strike while Jalen was distracted.
He never made it.
His own shadow twisted unnaturally beneath him, rising like a serpent. It wrapped around his body and dragged him into the ground. He screamed, fought, and clawed—but within moments, he was gone. Swallowed whole.
Silence fell.
The mood in the realm shifted instantly. Fear crept into the hearts of every cultivator present. That technique wasn't just unnatural and terrifying; it was powerful. And the aura Jalen had released during the attack… it was unmistakable.
Peak Immortal Realm.
Many couldn't believe it. After all, his life energy didn't match his cultivation level—it was too youthful, too vibrant. But the pressure he exuded was undeniable.
As for the disciples of the Crimson Vale Sect? They remembered something else seeing the shadow attack.
Months ago, three elders had died mysteriously. Several disciples had been crippled by a shadow qi user. Could this young man be the one responsible? But what puzzles them is that this kid also uses light qi as well. Does this mean he has dual qi? Two opposing elements at that? No doubt he's dangerous, and they need to report this to their higher-ups as soon as they get out of the realm.
Jalen's gaze swept across the crowd.
Those who met his eyes instantly looked away, terrified that even eye contact might rip their souls from their bodies.
He wanted to kill them all—for what they'd done to Rana. But he didn't. If she had died, then the story would have been different.
He activated Flash Reverse. Light bent around him and Rana, and in an instant, they were back at the River of Flames. Another flash—and they stood atop the cliff, overlooking the molten river below.
Rana gasped for breath, still overwhelmed. She had always known Jalen was strong—but this? This was beyond anything she'd imagined.
And that technique just now… Was it teleportation? A spatial art?
Jalen finally released her from his hold. She felt a pang of disappointment.
"Are you okay, flame brain?" Jalen asked, concerned.
Rana blushed, turning away instinctively. But after a beat, she faced him again, locking eyes with the boy—no, the man—she'd imagined a thousand times. She had rehearsed this moment endlessly: the reunion, the words she'd say, and the questions she'd demand answers to.
Why did you leave without a word? Did I mean so little to you? Why didn't you come back? Didn't you care enough to send even a single message? Do you feel anything for me at all?
But instead of asking any of those things, the storm inside her broke through in a single, trembling sentence.
"You left without telling me. I thought…" Her voice faltered, the weight of everything she hadn't said pressing down on her.
Jalen's smile faded. His eyes softened with regret. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I should've told you. I should've come looking for you sooner."
That caught her off guard.
Jalen had always seemed aloof, distant—like emotions were beneath him. Hearing him apologize felt surreal.
"What, surprised I can say sorry?" he teased.
Rana didn't answer. She just stepped forward and threw herself into his arms, tears spilling down her cheeks.
He held her.
She clung to him tightly, and he let her.
"I missed you," she whispered between sobs.
"There, there, flame brain," Jalen said softly, patting her head with a rare smile.
When the hug lasted longer than he expected, he chuckled. "If you don't let go soon, I might do inappropriate things to you—and you can't blame me."
Rana pulled away, shoving his shoulder with a grin. "Still the same pervy character, I see."
"Not a perv," Jalen said, feigning offense. "Just a heterosexual young man with strong desires I struggle so hard to keep under control. So if a beautiful young woman throws herself into my arms, what do you think is going to happen?"
Rana rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered. "I'm sure nothing would happen. You're a gentleman, after all." Though deep down, she wouldn't have minded if something did.
She couldn't believe she was thinking that. Why was it suddenly so hot? She was a flame cultivator—heat shouldn't faze her. And yet, her heart was racing.
"That's not what you thought when we first met," Jalen said, chuckling as he reminisced about their first encounter.
Rana smiled awkwardly, remembering the showdown. "I know now that was a misunderstanding." Her expression softened. "But I wouldn't change a moment of it. Meeting you changed my life in ways I never imagined."
"So you're saying you're grateful I saw you naked?" Jalen arched a brow, clearly enjoying himself.
"Will you stop teasing me already?" Rana groaned, burying her face into his chest, embarrassed.
Jalen chuckled and gently patted her head. "By the way, I have a gift for you."
Rana perked up instantly, her eyes lighting with excitement.
Jalen reached into his pocket realm and pulled out a supreme-grade tool he'd found deep within the Mystic Ground: the Solblade Khopesh: Crown of Embers. Its blade shimmered with a fiery glow, etched with ancient runes that pulsed like a heartbeat.
"This is…?" Rana stuttered, eyes wide.
"It's yours now," Jalen said simply, handing it to her.
Rana stared at the weapon in awe, then quickly stored it in her pocket realm. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around him again.
"Ahem," Jalen cleared his throat when the hug lingered a little too long.
"Sorry," Rana mumbled, pulling away with a sheepish smile.
"Let's find somewhere quiet," Jalen said. "You'll need space to cultivate and fully refine that treasure."
Rana nodded, her heart still fluttering.
Together, they took to the sky—two streaks of flame and light soaring above the Scorch Realm, side by side.