A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5971

A jagged cry tore from Jared's throat, half agony, half exultation.

The surface of his skin split like glass under a hammer, scarlet fissures racing across every inch.

Before blood could spill, the chaotic force flooding him knit the wounds shut—only to rip them open again with the next pulse.

Deep inside the power well of his abdomen, pressure swelled until it felt ready to burst.

The Four-Colored Origin Star that hovered there vanished beneath a tide of raw chaos, every hue drowned, every contour scoured.

Nothing about the invasion felt gentle. The new power chewed through the old, then hammered the fragments into unfamiliar shapes.

His awareness drifted, unmoored, in a shoreless dark.

He was a single mote at the dawn of everything, watching nebulae billow, galaxies flare and die, feeling the first currents of creation brush past.

Every muscle, vein, and bone drank that current.

Cells burst apart, reformed, rose brighter, as though the blueprint of his body were being redrawn line by luminous line.

Within him, his chaotic celestial energy recognized a sovereign.

It rushed to kneel, then merged, swelling with borrowed majesty.

Five-element power, Earthfire True Essence, even the proud Golden Dragon Bloodline had kept their distance until now.

The absolute pressure of chaos crushed their walls, forced them inward, turning hesitation into eager convergence.

Buried beneath that flood, the Four-Colored Origin Star did not shatter.

It drank, swelled, its radiance growing so fierce the original four hues thinned to translucent veils.

Color bled away, leaving a hazy gray that felt neither light nor shadow.

Inside, shifting layers of runes and currents hinted at a pocket-sized Chaos World taking shape.

The cultivation wall he had leaned against for so long now tore like wet paper under the torrent.

He surged into Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Six.

Momentum carried him through the realm’s early layers and straight into its middle phase.

The pressure refused to relent, compressing him until he cracked the advanced phase wide open.

A final roar inside his veins slung him across the threshold of Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Seven.

At last the tide receded, leaving him at the realm’s opening step—Level Seven, newborn yet vast.

Yet he sensed this was only the surface measure—numbers on a chart, not the real miracle.

The true change hissed deeper, rewriting the recipe of his life, his strength, his view of the grand path.

Time lost its grip.

When awareness returned, the glow of the Chaos Source Seed had folded inward and vanished into his marrow.

The cracks of light dancing over his skin dimmed, then slipped away like retreating tide foam.

He remained where he was, eyes still shut, as though listening for echoes only he could hear.

Something in the air around him had turned over.

The edge that once advertised every ambition now lay hidden beneath fathomless calm.

Where sharpness had flashed, stillness pooled—like a bottomless pond reflecting nothing.

His skin gleamed translucent, jade-like, subtle threads of shifting gray light wandering beneath.

The fiery five-element tattoo on the back of his hand had vanished.

In his palm, a nearly invisible vortex rotated—chaos distilled into the simplest of signatures.

He sensed no breeze, yet the ends of his dark hair lifted and drifted upward, as though some invisible tide had begun at his scalp and drawn every strand toward it.

He opened his eyes. For a heartbeat, galaxies ignited, worlds collapsed, dawn and apocalypse chased each other across his pupils—then all of it folded away, leaving only a calm, bottomless black.

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