CHAPTER 1441: THE RIFT

Everyone turned to Lory with disapproving looks. She raised her brows, silently asking, "What?"

Lucas, Fargo, and Fredhardt exchanged helpless glances before sighing. Lucas massaged his forehead and said bluntly, "No."

"Why not?" Lory whined, her shoulders slumping in disappointment.

"Because it’s too dangerous," Lucas replied firmly.

Lory raised her index finger. "Let me remind you—I just killed Demi-God Lazarus, okay?"

Lucas didn’t miss a beat. "True, but didn’t you also say you didn’t do it alone? You had Girsha and your husband helping, right?"

Lory shrugged, conceding the point.

"Besides," Fredhardt chimed in, "we still don’t even know where they’re hiding Zalchana. And even if we did, we’d need a solid plan and a well-built team to pull it off."

"Exactly," Fargo added. "Let’s stick to our current priorities. First, we need to rescue as many healers as we can from the S.A.I.N.T. organization. Who knows—maybe we’ll get useful intel from them."

He continued, "We also need to check on M.A.D.D.’s development from Samuel, and don’t forget the exhibition next month... We’ve got a lot on our plate, Lory."

Lory sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Yeah, you’re right... Anyway, any word from Lydia and the others?"

Fargo answered, "Jay said Lydia’s trying to get close to someone named Jasmine Wu."

"Oh? Is she from Xiya Country?" Lory’s eyes lit up with interest.

"She is," Fargo nodded. "Her family’s actually quite well-known there as wine brewers. She joined the organization mainly to gain access to powerful connections that could help expand their business. So, she’s not really fanatical about the organization’s ideology."

"Actually, there are a few healers like that," Fredhardt added. "They joined just for the benefits, so it’s easier to sway them compared to the earlier recruits—those with deep, unwavering belief in the organization."

"But people like that..." Lucas leaned forward, his voice low but firm, "They switch sides the depend which stuation benefit her more, so make sure that woman name Jasmine Wu can be trusted. Remind Jay—this needs to be handled with care."

Fargo gave a sharp nod, his jaw tight. "I’ll pass the message."

A brief silence settled over the room.

Then Lory broke the silence. "What if..." Her eyes moved between them, sharp with intent. "What if we turned one of the senior members? Could we do it?"

Fredhardt didn’t respond immediately. He leaned back slightly, folding his arms as he considered the implications. His voice, when it came, was measured. "I know what you’re aiming for. And yes—if we could flip a senior member, it could shift the board in our favor. They might even lead us to where Zalchana is."

He paused, tension thickening in the room like a storm cloud.

"But it’s not that simple," Fredhardt said at last. "These people have spent years inside the organization. Their hands are stained, their reputations cemented in blood and loyalty. Most of them probably believe it’s too late to turn back—or worse, that betrayal means a guaranteed death sentence, no matter who’s offering the way out."

His eyes narrowed, voice dropping with quiet gravity. "Unless we can offer them a guarantee—a real future worth the risk, we’re asking them to walk away from everything they’ve ever known, everything they’ve built."

He fell silent for a long moment, clearly weighing the odds.

"It’s possible," he admitted, "But it’s a high-stakes game. If something wrong, they might just play along to stab us in the back. Feed us lies. Turn double agent the second it serves them.So we need to be damn sure. No mistakes. One wrong move... and we hand them everything."

"Do you think it’s worth to try" Lory turn to Lucas for making decision.

Lucas fell silent, his gaze distant as he weighed the risks against the potential gain. The room waited, the tension coiled tight.

Then, finally, he gave a slow nod. "We can try," he said, voice calm but resolute. A decision made.

He added, "But tell Jay to use the Oathbind spell. I don’t want anyone turning on us once they’re inside."

"I’ll let him know," Fargo replied immediately, bowing his head.

The shift in his demeanor was almost imperceptible, but unmistakable, from a familiar friend to a faithful subordinate, ready to follow command without question.

______________________________

Meanwhile, after completing one of his grand paintings—a sweeping mountain vista nearly three meters long—Zhao Li Xin set down his brush.

He reclined on a small wooden chair, its surface polished smooth by years of quiet use, and raised a jade wine cup to his lips. The deep crimson liquid swirled gently, catching the lantern light as if holding a fragment of sunset within.

His face, strikingly handsome and austere, remained calm and unreadable. Dark eyes, fathomless as still water, reflected no joy, no sorrow—only a hollow, tranquil void that could swallow all emotions whole.

A childish voice rang out in the silence, warm yet ethereal:

[Master, everything is ready.]

The fire spirit’s words drifted through the air like a playful ember. Without a sound, Zhao Li Xin set his jade cup upon the table. He closed his eyes, and in the next breath, his figure blurred—vanishing as though the world itself had exhaled him away.

When he opened them again, he stood within the mystic realm of his secluded manor. But he did not linger in its quiet halls. Instead, he strode forward, leaving the tranquil manor at the front gate.

His pace was steady and deliberate, crunching the gravel beneath his boots. Soon, he arrived at the simple black wooden gate, then with a single push, the gate yielded, and a vast bamboo forest unfurled before him, its emerald stalks swaying and whispering secrets in the wind.

The fire spirit appeared beside him, flickering into existence like a spark catching flame. It darted ahead, guiding him through the dense grove until they reached a clearing of a perfect circle carved out of the living green.

At its center lay a formation, a vast pentagon carved deep into the earth, its edges sharp as if cut by celestial blades. At each of its five points, runes shimmered faintly with otherworldly light: Sun. Moon. Light. Darkness. Spirit.

Encircling them, countless ancient inscriptions sprawled outward in intricate patterns, weaving together like a cosmic spider’s web. They pulsed faintly, as though alive, as though the very realm itself inhaled and exhaled in rhythm with their glow.

The air here was dense, thrumming with unseen energy—so heavy with power that even the wind dared not disturb the silence. It was as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting.

[Be careful, Master... the first time is always the hardest,] the fire spirit’s voice trembled, its usual playful tone dulled by unease.

Zhao Li Xin’s expression did not waver. His dark eyes, calm and fathomless, held no trace of doubt as he stepped onto the heart of the formation.

The moment his foot touched the center, the ground trembled. A sudden pulse rippled outward, like the heartbeat of some ancient beast stirred from slumber. One by one, the runes flared brighter, their glow sharpening into blades of light.

Without a word, Zhao Li Xin raised his hand. His palm opened, and from it, dark purplish flames coiled into existence, swirling around him in an elegant, deadly dance. The fire spread, slithering across the formation like living ink, tracing every rune, every inscription, until the entire pentagon burned with ominous brilliance.

Then—his fingers shifted, weaving through the air in precise, deliberate motions, ancient gestures that commanded the very fabric of the realm.

A sharp crack tore through the empty air before him as the air itself split apart just like glass struck by an unseen hammer, revealing a jagged rift of void. From within, a low, resonant hum emerged, heavy enough to make the bamboo forest quiver as though bowing to its master.

Zhao Li Xin extended his hand toward the jagged rift. His fingers spread wide, steady and unhurried, each movement deliberate and precise, like a master calligrapher painting the final stroke. When his fingertips touched the fractured air, a faint shimmer rippled outward. Then, with an almost imperceptible force, he pressed in.

The rift resisted at first, trembling like a wounded beast, but Zhao Li Xin did not falter. Slowly, relentlessly, as his hand sank deeper, and with it, the crack widened. Fine, branching fractures spiderwebbed outward, splitting reality with a sound like breaking glass.

High above, the bamboo grove trembled though no wind blew.

The fire spirit held his breath, metaphorically, of course. The fire on him flickers frantically as he watches between Zhao Li Xin’s calm expression and the growing rift. Each inch deeper felt like balancing on the edge of oblivion, and then, Zhao Li Xin moved his other hand.

The fire spirit nearly flared in panic, once the realization struck him like a thunderbolt, if the rift collapsed now... if those jagged edges snapped shut, Zhao Li Xin could lose bothof his hands, iof that happened his power and his future as a cultivator will be greatly reduced if not erased completely in an instant.

The fire spirit’s heart thundered, again, only metaphorically, nevertheless, the sensation was no less real. A chilling thought gripped him tightly: if Zhao Li Xin failed, if he was maimed or worse... then no one would ever wield him again. Once again, he has to wait for another millennium for a new master.

Regret flickered in the spirit’s core. He blamed himself for not trying more to stopped his master. Just like in the past he can only watch his master fell on destruction without able to do anything.

Still, it was too late.

All the spirit could do was hover helplessly at the edge of the formation, watching as Zhao Li Xin’s hands disappeared farther into the rift, praying, for the first time in his existence, that no catastrophe would come to his new Master.

Zhao Li Xin grit his teeth as the rift fought against him, its twisting force shoving him back, desperate to seal itself shut. But he refused to yield. Beyond this barrier, his wife’s family was waiting, trapped, dying.

If that creature perished, he could already imagine the grief that would shatter Lory’s heart. No. Not this time! He would not let her endure that pain again. Not when he had the power to prevent it.