A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6337

The three elders went white. "Jared... you're Jared?"

"Yes."

"You killed Magnus Storme, and you still dared to come here to die?"

Jared didn't answer.

He raised his right hand.

A mass of chaos-flame gathered in his palm.

Purple and gold twisted together inside the flame, glaring in the dusk.

The instant it appeared, the temperature across the whole world surged upward.

The holy radiance around the celestial cultivators began to tremble, as if it had run into something it feared.

"Coming here to die?" Jared's voice stayed level. "Try it."

The three elders looked at each other once, then moved at the same time.

Golden holy radiance split into three blade-flares and slashed straight at Jared.

Each blade-flare carried the full force of a True Immortal Realm Level Seven strike, enough to flatten a mountain peak.

Jared didn't dodge.

He thrust the chaos-flame forward.

The flame turned into a purple fire dragon and charged at the three blade-flares with a roar.

The fire dragon crashed into the blade-flares.

There was no explosion. No thunderous blast. In front of the chaos-flame, the blade-flares were like paper. They were swallowed, melted, and wiped away in an instant.

The fire dragon kept going, driving straight at the three elders.

The three elders' faces drained of color.

They forced their holy radiance up with everything they had and condensed a golden light-shield in front of themselves.

The light-shield had five layers, and every layer held the cultivation they had built over their entire lives.

The fire dragon slammed into the light-shield.

The first layer broke.

The second layer broke.

The third layer.

The fourth.

The fifth.

The fire dragon went through all five layers of the light-shield without a sound, like a red-hot iron rod punching through butter.

The three elders were thrown back dozens of steps, blood spraying from their mouths.

Their faces were deathly pale, and their eyes were full of fear.

The elder in the middle couldn't even get the words out cleanly. His voice shook. "You... you... what realm are you really in?"

"Top Level High Immortal Realm Level Nine," Jared said, as if he were answering something ordinary.

The three elders' pupils shrank to pinpoints.

Top Level High Immortal Realm Level Nine. One strike, and he had driven back three True Immortal Realm Level Seven elders.

This wasn't a man.

This was a monster.

"Shadow Hall! Kill!"

"Wandering Cultivators Alliance! Kill!"

At that instant, the entire battle turned on its head.

Malachy Vane came tearing in from the flank with Shadow Hall's demon cultivators behind him, and black demonic aura surged at the celestial encirclement like a rising tide.

Windclear led the Wandering Cultivators Alliance straight in from the rear, and bursts of multicolored spiritual power exploded inside the celestials' golden holy radiance.

The Ghost Clan warriors of Moonshade Realm followed behind Lydia, black ghostly miasma twisting together with purple chaotic force.

The celestial cultivators were completely stunned.

They hadn't expected Shadow Hall to come.

They hadn't expected the Wandering Cultivators Alliance to come either.

They had thought only the Skywolf Tribe and Moonshade Realm were here. They had thought this would be a slaughter with no suspense at all.

But now they were the ones surrounded.

No—not just surrounded. Counter-surrounded.

"Kill!"

Hadrian roared and brought his war axe down, splitting a celestial cultivator clean in two.

Blood was still pouring off him.

His left arm still hung ruined.

But his eyes burned bright.

Behind him were his clansmen, his brothers, the people who had come running when he had been pushed to the edge. He could not go down.

Lydia stayed right behind him, the wraithblade flashing through the black light.

Blood was still running from her left shoulder.

Her face was still pale.

But her sword was fast.

One sword stroke, and a celestial cultivator dropped.

Two strikes. Two dropped.

Three strikes. Three down.

Her swordsmanship was vicious and hard to read. Every thrust went for a vital point, and not a single move was wasted.

Malachy charged at the very front, black chaotic demonic aura churning around him.

He drove a palm forward, and a black handprint slammed into a cluster of celestial cultivators and hurled them through the air.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify