A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5987

Cyril’s face rippled through shades of doubt and reluctant awe before he exhaled hard. With a curt swipe of his hand he broke the binding sigils. "Release them."

"City Lord?" One of the guards almost choked on the honorific, fingers frozen over the iron locks.

"I said, release them." Cyril repeated the order, each word weighted like stone; no room remained for doubt.

Steel hinges clicked open in a nervous cascade as the guards scrambled to free every prisoner.

The newly unshackled pressed their foreheads to the ground, gratitude flooding the space like dawn light; all of it gathering unspoken around Jared.

"You. Come with me," Cyril said, his voice like steel plunged in frost.

His gaze cut to the robed figure beside Jared. "Your companion as well."

The order hit Jared's chest harder than the chains that had once bound him.

Refusal never even formed; the cold authority in Cyril's eyes allowed no room.

Light cracked open around Cyril, sapphire and numbing, and in the next breath he was only a rushing comet over the rooftops.

The air he left behind tasted of winter.

Jared tipped his chin toward Luther; understanding passed without speech.

They rose together, boots skimming dust, then wind swallowed sound as their bodies broke free of gravity.

Cyril's blue tail glimmered ahead like the only road left to them.

Below, the Execution Platform sagged under scorched stone and half-conscious prisoners.

Their bewildered groans mixed with the buzz of cultivators gathered in widening rings.

Jared did not slow to comfort them; mercy would have to wait.

"Who in thunder was that?" a voice floated up, thin as smoke.

Jared heard it only because fear sharpened every sense.

"Level Seven, and he still bent Cyril's will?" someone gasped.

The words chased Jared upward like sparks from a dying torch.

"Did you feel that aura? My bones are still trembling…" another muttered.

Jared clenched his fist, pretending the chill belonged only to the wind.

"Coldabyss City is about to flip on its head…"

The prophecy hung behind Jared like a fading drumbeat.

The rest dissolved into restless static, too many questions colliding at once.

City Lord Mansion, Reception Hall

Marble doors folded shut behind them, and with a curt wave Cyril sent every attendant scurrying into side corridors.

Silence settled, suddenly intimate.

Cyril lifted a jade kettle and let fragrant amber swirl into Jared's cup.

The humility in the gesture felt almost surreal after the scaffold.

"Mr. Chance, my earlier conduct was unforgivable. Pressure has made me overcautious; I beg your pardon."

Jared accepted the cup, its porcelain still warm from Cyril's hands.

"You are gracious, City Lord. I understand your caution."

Cyril leaned forward, eyes bright as blade edges.

"Let's speak plainly. How did you reach level thirteen? What lineage grants you chaotic force? And this feud with the celestials—tell me everything."

Steam rose between them while Jared tasted the tea, buying heartbeats.

He weighed secrets against necessity and chose the thinner mask.

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