A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6354

Alaric sat in the seat of honor, his fingers tapping lightly against the tabletop.

He looked to be in his forties. His face was hard-cut, his brows sharp, his eyes bright. His black hair was tied back behind his head.

He wore a dark purple robe. Embroidered across it was the emblem of the Celestial Alliance—a golden longsword wrapped with a massive silver dragon.

His cultivation had reached the peak of True Immortal Realm Level Nine, with one foot already over the threshold of that legendary Golden Immortal Realm.

Disbelief still sat in Alaric's eyes.

He couldn't make sense of it.

A place like the Fifteenth Firmament topped out at True Immortal Realm Level Eight, and the cultivators of the Lower Realm—whether in arcane arts, relics, or battle experience—were no match for cultivators of the same cultivation level from the Sixteenth Firmament.

The five companions he had sent were all among the very best of True Immortal Realm Level Eight.

Every one of them had crawled through countless life-and-death battles.

How had they died?

And whose hands had done it?

Alaric closed his eyes.

Their figures rose in his mind one by one.

The captain's hard, cold face. The silver-white spear in his hand.

The twin-blade fighter's vicious knife work. The greatswordsman's wild, crushing strength.

The whip-master's poisonous techniques. The archer's flawless precision.

If all five fought together, even a True Immortal Realm Level Nine expert would have had to work to hold them off.

But in the Fifteenth Firmament, they had died.

"Someone." His voice wasn't loud, but it carried out of the great hall with perfect clarity.

A celestial cultivator hurried in and dropped to his knees. "High Sovereign."

"Bring the strategist."

"Yes."

A moment later, an old man walked into the great hall.

He wore a gray robe.

His hair was white with age, and his face was lean.

His eyes were small, but they shone, bright as an owl's eyes in the dark.

He carried a fly-whisk in one hand, the white strands stirring lightly in the breeze.

His cultivation wasn't high, only True Immortal Realm Level Seven.

But in the Celestial Alliance, his standing came second only to Alaric.

He was the strategist, the adviser Alaric trusted most: Zaccai Whitlock.

"High Sovereign, you called for me?" Zaccai walked to the table. His gaze fell on the screen of light, and his pupils tightened slightly.

"They're dead," Alaric said.

His voice stayed level, but what sat underneath it didn't escape Zaccai.

Zaccai said nothing for a moment.

Then he lifted a hand. A jade token flew out of the screen of light and into his palm, and he examined it closely.

Cracks spread from the center of the jade token all the way to its edges, like a flower gone dry and withered.

He set the jade token on the table, then raised his head and looked at Alaric.

"The Fifteenth Firmament?" His voice came out quiet.

"The Fifteenth Firmament." Alaric nodded. "I can't make sense of it. A place like the Fifteenth Firmament... who there could have killed them?"

Zaccai didn't answer right away.

He walked up to the star map and fixed his eyes on the place marked as the Fifteenth Firmament.

He stood there for a long time without saying a word.

"High Sovereign, the Fifteenth Firmament may be a Lower Realm, but that doesn't mean there are no strong cultivators there."

His voice stayed low.

"The people we sent were there to hunt down Gideon Blackthorn and those rebels with him. Gideon Blackthorn is True Immortal Realm Level Eight, but he was badly wounded. There was no way he could take on all five of them. So the one who killed them wasn't Gideon Blackthorn."

"Then who was it?"

Zaccai turned and looked at Alaric.

"High Sovereign, do you remember? The Hall Master of the Tribunal once used the summoning art to contact us.

He said he ran into a powerful enemy in the Fifteenth Firmament, someone carrying chaotic force, and while still in the High Immortal Realm, that person was already able to fight him."

Alaric's eyes narrowed. "You're saying..."

"Chaotic force suppresses every other kind of power."

Zaccai's eyes tightened, and a sharp light broke through them, like he had already seen straight through the whole matter.

"If that person broke through, then with chaotic force added on top of it, it wouldn't be impossible for him to kill five True Immortal Realm Level Eight cultivators."

Alaric went quiet for a long time.

"Chaotic force... how many years has it been since anyone saw that again?"

Hadrian's injuries were not healed yet. His left arm still hung in a sling around his neck.

Even so, he had already downed several bowls of wine, and his face was red as fire.

Lydia sat on the city walls, watching the cheering crowd below.

A smile rested at the corner of her mouth, but something worn lingered in her eyes, too faint to put into words.

Gwendolyn stood at the highest point of the city walls.

Ice-blue divine radiance flowed across her palm. Her injuries still had not fully healed, yet she had not gone to rest.

She was watching Jared.

Jared did not drink.

He stood upon the city walls, looking out at the distant sky, his brows drawn tight.

Lydia walked over to his side and asked softly, "What's wrong? We won, and you're still not happy?"

Jared did not turn around. "I am."

"Then why are you frowning?"

Jared was quiet for a moment.

"The Celestial Alliance in the Sixteenth Firmament won't let this go."

The smile on Lydia's face froze.

"They lost five people. They'll definitely send someone to investigate," Jared said evenly. "And once they figure things out, they'll send even more people down. True Immortal Realm Level Nine... maybe even higher."

Lydia went quiet.

She looked out at the distant sky, at the golden holy radiance fading bit by bit, and something cold and hard climbed up through her chest.

"Then what do we do?"

Jared turned to look at her. "We celebrate first. We'll talk tomorrow."

He walked down from the city walls.

Jared found Gideon in the Council Hall.

The old man sat in his chair with his eyes closed. His silver-white hair was slightly disheveled, and several wounds on his face still hadn't sealed over.

One hand rested on his knee, his fingers trembling faintly. That battle had drained too much of his spiritual power, and his injuries still hadn't fully recovered.

But he hadn't gone to rest.

He had been waiting for Jared too.

"You're here." Gideon opened his eyes and looked at Jared.