A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6079

"Could it be a celestial married into the Ghost Clan?" Luther's confusion deepened.

A mixed bloodline might explain children who carried both signatures, yet full integration on this scale still made little sense.

"Impossible. Marriage or not, energies wouldn't fuse this cleanly. Besides, the higher a cultivator's realm, the harder it is to bear children, let alone cross-race offspring," Jared answered, shaking his head.

Luther knew the logic, but the mountain's abnormal aura left him no closer to an explanation.

"We keep climbing. The mountain will show us the answer itself."

They resumed their silent ascent, cutting higher through the fog.

The blended aura thickened with altitude. Celestial energy pressed harder, Ghost Clan traces slipped beneath it like a faint undertone.

With every yard gained, threads of pressure coiled inside the mist, invisible yet heavy enough to ripple Jared's robe sleeves.

"No more flying. If we stay airborne any longer, they'll notice us. We walk from here."

Luther landed beside him without argument; Jared knew the difference between boldness and needless risk.

They settled onto a narrow side path where only a handful of pilgrims had reached. Most devotees still labored far below.

Just as they prepared to continue, Jared noticed several celestial soldiers herding a dozen rag-clad cultivators down a branching trail.

Every prisoner stared ahead with dull eyes. Their steps dragged, bodies moving only because the soldiers shoved them forward.

Whatever faith they once wore had been stripped away along with their robes.

"Where are they taking them?" Luther sent the query straight into Jared's mind.

Jared's eyes narrowed. "We follow."

They slipped after the group, keeping to shadows cast by jutting rocks and twisted pine trunks.

The side trail wound deeper into the mountainside and ended at a concealed cave mouth half hidden behind a fall of vines.

Two High Immortal Realm Level Six celestial guards flanked the entrance. One sniffed and grumbled, "Not many materials today."

The escort leader chuckled. "Pilgrims are scarce lately. Be glad I scraped up this lot—two are High Immortal Realm Level Five, decent stock."

"Go on in." The guard waved the chain-bound line forward.

Once the procession vanished inside, Jared and Luther stepped from the gloom like ghosts slipping through smoke.

"Materials?" Jared tasted the word; it left iron on his tongue.

A chill flickered behind his eyes. Whatever sanctity the Sacred Mountain claimed, something ugly festered beneath its skin.

"Mr. Chance, what now?" Luther asked, voice pitched low.

Jared weighed the unknown, then spoke with quiet resolve. "First we learn the truth. If the celestials are butchering innocents—"

His fingers tightened around the Dragonslayer Sword's hilt. "—we bring this mountain down."

Both men drifted to the cave mouth without stirring a pebble.

Jared summoned chaotic force. A thin gray mist sheeted over his body, bending light and scent until even the guards' senses would slide past him.

Luther belonged to the Ghost Clan and had been born with a knack for hiding.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify