A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5920

A voice suddenly rang out. "Leave?"

It was a dry, mechanical tone—cold as metal—vibrating like the hidden gears of a cosmic law grinding into motion.

Soul Devourer whirled, cloak snapping though no wind stirred this desolation.

Three ashen figures now enclosed him in a flawless triangle.

They looked vaguely human, yet he could not be certain that they were alive.

Ancient gray-white robes draped their forms, wide sleeves brushing the dust-colored ground.

Faces blurred beneath shifting mist; only the vaguest contours of nose and mouth remained.

Most horrific were their eye sockets—twin black hollows cradling gray-white flames that fluttered like candlelight in a tomb.

Each flicker sent a shiver through the surrounding space, as though the rules of reality quaked in respect.

Their bodies seemed condensed from pure reincarnation aura, standing there as if perfectly fused with the gray-white world. Were it not for seeing them with the naked eye, Soul Devourer's divine soul perception would not have detected their presence at all—just as a person could not sense the air around them.

The figure at the apex projected its words straight into his mind, the sound a serrated whisper. "Outsider. The Reincarnation Realm forbids the living."

"Surrender your soul, enter the Reincarnation Pool, and you may be born anew," the left-hand figure intoned, utterly void of emotion.

"Refuse, and you will be refined," the right-hand figure finished, each syllable cold enough to freeze hope.

Alarm bells shrieked through Soul Devourer's consciousness, and even his divine soul recoiled.

The pressure pouring from the three ashen figures surpassed Malcolm in his prime.

It was not mere power but a difference in existence itself—an ant before a dragon, shaking because the dragon happened to look its way.

"I am Soul Devourer," he said, forcing steadiness he did not feel. "My arrival is an accident, and I meant no offense. I implore you—show me a path by which I may depart."

Silence tightened, brittle as glass.

The gray-white flames inside the ashen figures' hollow sockets fluttered faster, their unreadable gazes locked on him without a word.

The humanoid figure in the center spoke again, a note of unquestionable authority in its voice. "Denied. Rule of Reincarnation, Article 1,372: Anyone who enters without the permission of the Lord of Reincarnation shall be considered an intruder. Their divine soul is to be refined, their consciousness stripped, and reincarnation completed."

With that, the three ashen humanoids lifted their right arms together.

The movement was mechanical, puppet-stiff, yet it carried a hypnotic, air-thieving rhythm that seemed to shrink the horizon.

Chalk-pale palms unfurled, pressing down upon emptiness. No gale followed, no crackling surge—only a hush so absolute it erased the very memory of sound.

Soul Devourer felt the entire cosmos leaning upon his shoulders.

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