A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6320

Among them were ordinary cultivators at True Immortal Realm Level Two, squad captains at True Immortal Realm Level Three, deputy elders at True Immortal Realm Level Four, and even two Elders at True Immortal Realm Level Five.

They closed in and surrounded Jared on all sides.

Golden holy radiance came surging at him like a tide.

"Jared! Surrender now! The Hall Master might spare your life yet!" one Elder at True Immortal Realm Level Five shouted.

Jared glanced at him.

Then he smiled.

It was the faintest smile, so faint it was almost impossible to see.

But in that instant, every one of them caught the same chill, shooting from the soles of the feet straight up to the crown of the skull.

"Spare my life?"

Jared's voice stayed level. "You think you're worthy of that?"

He moved.

This time, he did not stay where he was and wait for them to rush him.

He charged straight into the crowd himself.

Chaos-flame burned around his body.

Violet radiance and golden flame twisted together and swallowed every trace of the holy radiance around him.

He tore through the golden sea like a violet meteor.

One punch. A celestial cultivator at True Immortal Realm Level Two flew backward.

His chest caved in. Blood sprayed from his mouth. By the time he hit the ground, there was no breath left in him.

One palm. A squad captain at True Immortal Realm Level Three had his protective holy radiance smashed apart, and his body burst open in midair into a cloud of blood.

One finger. A strand of chaos-flame punched through the head of an Elder at True Immortal Realm Level Four.

His eyes bulged wide, and even at the moment he died, he still could not believe it.

One sword strike—but he had no sword in hand.

His Dragonslayer Sword was still recovering.

But his fingers were the sword.

Chaos-flame condensed along them into a blade-flare, and everywhere that streak of light passed, celestial cultivators dropped in rows like wheat under a sickle.

One. Two. Three... Ten. Twenty. Thirty...

In less than half an hour, more than half of the hundred-plus celestial cultivators had gone down.

The ones still left finally broke.

"Run! Run now!"

"He's not human! He's a devil!"

"Help! Help!"

They spun around and fled, scrambling over each other as they rushed for the top of the gorge.

Some fell to the ground and got trampled by the people behind them.

A scream tore out once, then cut off.

Others shoved their own companions to the rear to use as shields while they clawed upward for all they were worth.

Jared did not chase them.

He stood in the middle of the corpses and watched those figures fleeing in a wrecked, ugly scramble.

There was no mercy in his eyes. No satisfaction either. Only a flat, cold stillness.

Then he turned and walked out of the gorge.

News from Soul Abyss reached the Tribunal that very same day.

The Tribunal Venerable sat on the black throne and listened to the report from below.

As it went on, his face darkened by degrees.

"What did you say? Jared broke into Soul Abyss? Killed the Frostwyrm Guardian? Killed more than a hundred of our cultivators?"

"Y-Yes, Hall Master."

The cultivator kneeling on the floor shook from head to toe, his forehead pressed hard against the ground, not daring to lift it.

"Why did he go to Soul Abyss?"

"He... he picked the soulbind herb."

The Tribunal Venerable's eyes narrowed.

Soulbind herb.

That was the main ingredient for refining the sense-gathering pill.

The old chieftain of the Skywolf Tribe had been unconscious for 300 years.

The only thing keeping him alive all this time had been the Soulkindling Flame.

Jared had taken the soulbind herb, refined it into a sense-gathering pill, brought the old chieftain back to life, and then taken the Soulkindling Flame.

The whole chain fell into place.

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