A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6338

The blade-flares hit his back and left side, carving two deep wounds into him.

Golden blood poured from the wounds and dripped onto the ground.

A muffled grunt forced its way out of Jared as his body swayed once. He still didn't go down.

He spun and blasted the elder on the left away with a single palm strike.

Right then, Hadrian charged in.

His war axe came down at the middle elder's overhead.

The elder jolted and hurriedly raised his sword to block.

The war axe and longsword crashed together, throwing off a burst of blinding sparks.

Hadrian was knocked back several steps, but there was a grin at the corner of his mouth.

"Old bastard, I'm your opponent!"

Lydia charged in, too.

Her wraithblade shot straight for the elder on the right, driving at his throat.

The elder scrambled back at once, but Lydia stayed on him.

The wraithblade flashed through black light, one strike faster than the last.

She drove him back step after step, until the only thing left in his eyes was naked terror.

The pressure on Jared dropped all at once.

He looked at Hadrian and Lydia from behind, and something hot ran through his chest.

He wasn't fighting alone anymore.

"Kill!" he roared, then lunged at the elder on the left.

That elder was the weakest of the three, a beginner-phase True Immortal Realm Level Seven.

Jared's palm strike had already blasted him away and left him badly hurt.

Before he could even steady himself, Jared was right in front of him.

Violet chaos-flame gathered in Jared's palm and condensed into a violet fireblade.

Golden patterns flowed across the blade, and the heat rising off it was so fierce that the air around it started to warp.

The elder's face drained white.

He forced every last bit of holy radiance he had left into motion and formed a light-shield in front of himself.

Jared brought the fireblade down.

It struck the light-shield, and the light-shield shattered.

The fireblade kept going and hacked into the elder's shoulder.

A shrill scream ripped out of him.

His left arm was severed clean off at the shoulder, and blood sprayed everywhere.

But the wound was already being seared by chaos-flame, charred black from edge to edge.

Not a single drop kept flowing, because the blood had been burned away before it could even pour out.

The elder spun and ran.

Jared didn't chase him.

He lifted his left hand, and a violet thunder-spear formed in his palm.

Lightning nascence churned through his body, and violet arcs crackled across the thunder-spear.

He hurled it.

The thunder-spear flew as fast as lightning, caught the elder in an instant, punched in through his back, and burst out through his chest.

The elder's body locked in midair for a single beat.

Then it blew apart with a thunderous burst, turning into a skyful of golden motes that scattered into the air.

Body and soul were erased. Nothing remained.

Jared turned and looked toward Hadrian.

Hadrian was still locked in a brutal fight with the elder in the middle.

Seven or eight fresh wounds had opened across his body, and every one of them was bleeding.

But the war axe was still in his hand.

And his eyes still burned.

He brought the axe down hard.

The elder raised his longsword to block. Steel crashed against steel, and a blinding spray of sparks burst out between them.

Hadrian was thrown back.

The elder was driven back, too.

"Old bastard, you don't look so tough either!"

Hadrian wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and grinned.

The elder's face turned dark and rigid.

He hadn't expected a badly wounded Hadrian to still be this hard to put down.

The man was a monster.

Right then, Jared appeared behind him.

The elder caught the chill at his back. He spun around—and Jared's chaos-flame was already burning right in his face.

"No—"

He never got the word out.

The chaos-flame had already swallowed him whole.

Dozens of wounds covered his body, and every last one of them was still bleeding.

But he was still alive.

He was still alive.

Lydia leaned against a rock, the wraithblade buried in the ground in front of her.

Blood still ran from her left shoulder, and her face had gone white as paper.

But she was still alive.

Malachy stood off to the side, his black robe soaked with golden blood.

There was nothing on his face, but a trace of wear had settled in his eyes.

Shadow Hall had taken plenty of losses in this fight, too.

Windclear sat on a rock, the sword in his hand already broken.

He had wounds on him, too, but none of them were serious.

He looked over the bodies scattered across the battlefield and stayed silent for a long time.

Jared stood at the heart of the battlefield, taking it all in.

He was wounded, too. A blade-flare had torn across his back and his left ribs, leaving two deep gashes behind.

Golden blood was still seeping out.

But his back stayed straight, and his eyes still burned bright.

"Count the dead and wounded," he said, his voice even.

Hadrian forced himself back to his feet and started counting the survivors.

Out of 300 beast-race warriors, only 120 were left now.

Out of 273 Ghost Clan warriors, only 150 were left now.

Shadow Hall and the Wandering Cultivators Alliance had taken heavy losses as well.

But the Tribunal's 3 thousand-strong army had been wiped out to the last man.

"We won." Hadrian's voice shook. "We won."

The beast-race warriors broke into cheers.

The Ghost Clan warriors started cheering, too.

The cultivators from Shadow Hall and the Wandering Cultivators Alliance joined in as well.

Jared didn't join them.

He kept his eyes on the distant horizon, his brow drawn tight.

The Tribunal Venerable still hadn't come.

The real battle hadn't even started yet.