Jared chance novel Chapter 6324

The town's streets weren't wide.

On both sides, the shops sold all kinds of ironware and medicinal herbs.

There weren't many people on the road.

Most of them were ordinary folk in rough, cloth clothes. A few wandering cultivators were mixed in among them, but their cultivation wasn't high. At most, they had reached the True Immortal Realm Level Two.

They watched Jared and the others with guarded eyes.

Out in a desolate place like this, strangers always stood out.

Jared walked up to an old woman selling vegetables and cupped his hands in greeting. "Ma'am, we're wandering cultivators just passing through. We wanted to find a place to rest. Is there an inn in town?"

The old woman looked at him, then past him at Gwendolyn and Lydia, and shook her head.

"No. This town is small. We don't take in outsiders."

Her tone came out cold, with a distance that shut people out before they could come any closer.

Jared paid it no mind. He thanked her again, then turned and walked away.

After that, they asked several more people. Every answer was the same: no inn, no outsiders, leave.

Every pair of eyes carried the same wariness. Under it, there was even a trace of dread.

Jared stopped and looked at Gwendolyn. "They know about their bloodline."

Gwendolyn gave a small nod.

The color had drained from her face. Not from fatigue, but because she could tell every one of these people carried the Ice God Bloodline.

It was faint. It was buried deep. But it was there.

They were descendants of the Frost Deity Branch, and they did not dare admit it.

"Why?" Gwendolyn's voice came out so light it almost sounded like she was asking Jared, and almost like she was asking herself.

Jared said nothing.

He turned and looked toward the end of the street.

A group of people was coming their way.

At the front was an elderly man with graying hair. He had a broad build and a face that carried its own authority.

His cultivation had reached the True Immortal Realm Level Four. In this town, that put him at the top.

Behind him came more than twenty townspeople carrying arms, men and women, old and young. Every face was tight with vigilance and hostility.

They closed in and surrounded all five of them.

"Who are you? What are you doing in Snowfall Hollow?" the old man's voice rolled out low, like muffled winter thunder.

Jared cupped his fists in greeting. "My name is Jared. I'm just passing through your town, and I'd like to borrow a place to stay for the night."

The old man's pupils tightened, just a little.

Jared.

There was no way he hadn't heard that name before.

The Pyre Chasm, Thunderpeak, the Soul Abyss. For days now, that name had been spreading through the entire Fifteenth Firmament.

But his guard didn't drop.

If anything, it went up another notch.

"Snowfall Hollow doesn't take in outsiders. Leave."

There wasn't a trace of room to argue in his tone.

Colden stepped forward and cupped his fists. "Reeve, I'm Colden from Frostwind Hollow. This is Gwendolyn, Palace Mistress of the Frost Deity Branch. We're not bad people. We just want to—"

"Shut up!"

The old man cut him off, something sharp flashing through his eyes. "What Frost Deity Branch? I don't know what you're talking about. There are no people from the Frost Deity Branch in Snowfall Hollow. If you don't leave now, then don't blame us for what happens next."

Behind him, the townsfolk clenched their arms tighter. Someone muttered agreement under their breath. "That's right! Go! Get out of here!"

"The people you're looking for aren't here!"

"Leave!"

Jared said nothing.

His gaze moved across every face there—the old reeve, the townsfolk, and the women and children hiding at the street corners and peeking over.

Every one of them carried the aura of the Ice God Bloodline.

Some of it was faint. Some of it ran deep.

Not one of them was willing to admit it.

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