A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5903

Thousands of ivory spires punched through the ground, knitting a bone labyrinth ten miles wide.

Inside the ghastly maze, death reeked; skeletal soldiers clawed their way up, mandibles snapping in a chorus of dread.

"Annihilum—Path of the Netherworld!"

Annihilum's form shot skyward as a gray spear of light, ripping a wound in the heavens itself.

From that jagged rent poured foul, turbid waters of the underworld; every drop hissed, corroding even space into ragged black holes.

The stench of absolute death rode the current, a promise that nothing living—flesh or spirit—could escape its dissolving touch.

Three forbidden arts collided with the sky; daylight fled, and the world lurched into bruised twilight.

For a hundred miles around Earthfire Pavilion, blood-red, bone-white, and ash-gray light interwove. Mountains cracked, rivers reversed, and the ground itself shivered beneath the crushing weight.

Creatures great and small collapsed, trembling on their knees before the gathering storm of power.

"Be careful, Jared!" Ignatius shouted.

His excitement drained in an instant. Horror seized his throat, and the cry that tore free sounded ragged, hopeless.

The onrushing strike no longer belonged to the Heavenly Immortal Realm. Its savage might flirted with the threshold of the High Immortal Realm.

Against that edge, even a High Immortal Realm Level One cultivator would have had to yield and retreat.

Faces inside Earthfire Pavilion turned ashen. The fragile ember of hope they had kindled was snuffed out once more.

Across the field, Malevolent Path Hall members bared their teeth in cruel delight, already picturing Jared's body ripped into bleeding ribbons.

Yet, standing at the heart of the coming cataclysm, Jared drew a long, steadying breath, somber light smoldering in his eyes.

He knew very well that this was no time for restraint.

"Since it has come to this, I suppose it's time to let you all witness the true extent of my power."

He lifted the Dragonslayer Sword high, and in the same heartbeat, chaotic celestial energy, Golden Dragon Bloodline, and the searing creed of Earthfire True Scripture erupted from every pore of his being.

The three forces collided, screamed, then knitted together—becoming a newborn energy, murky and primeval, heavy with the weight of creation.

"Chaos—Golden Dragon—Earth fire... triple convergence! Slash!"

The towering blade-light materialized again, no longer burnished gold and gray but a shifting haze of embryonic dusk—pure, unformed chaos honed into a hundred-yard edge.

Within that vaporous sword, a five-clawed golden dragon coiled and lunged, its roar shaking the void, while Earthfire True Flame's molten flames raced along the surface, eager to incinerate all they touched.

This was the stroke Jared had tempered across three centuries of solitude, every insight and every scar hammered into one perfect cut.

It thrummed with the very force that once split light from darkness at the dawn of creation.

The instant it fell, sky and earth bled of color, as though the world itself forgot how to breathe.

Space cracked, time staggered, and even the lofty laws of heaven fled before that blade.

The Ghost King shrieked—a sound like tomb doors slamming—before the sword split the specter in two, scattering it as crimson rain.

The alabaster pillars of White Bone Hell shattered and toppled; skeletal legions collapsed into fine, drifting dust.

The Path of the Netherworld hissed into steam, and every rift it had gouged in space sealed as if they had never been.

Just like that, three powerful forbidden divine powers burst like delicate soap bubbles.

"No!"

The three deputy leaders—dark champions of their sect—howled together, terror strangling every note of defiance.

The chaos-forged sword energy did not slow; it swept onward, ravenous.

"Pfft!"

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