A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6369

Tears and snot ran together down the cultivator's face. "I'll talk... I'll talk... We were only the vanguard... behind us... there's still Marshal Vale... he brought 1 thousand elites... he's right behind us..."

Jared's brow pulled tight. "Marshal Vale? What cultivation level?"

"True Immortal Realm Level Nine... True Immortal Realm Level Nine..."

The cultivator's voice kept fading. "The High Sovereign said... said you'd come to the Sixteenth Firmament... told Marshal Vale to hunt you down... alive, he wanted to see you in person... dead, he wanted your bodies..."

Jared went quiet for a moment.

"Where is Marshal Vale?"

"At... at the camp on the edge of the ice plains... he sent us ahead to scout the ruins... he'll arrive right after..."

Jared drew back the Dragonslayer Sword, turned, and looked at Gwendolyn.

"That's everything."

Gwendolyn gave a small nod and raised her hand.

A streak of ice-blue divine radiance shot into the cultivator's forehead.

The cultivator's body jerked hard, then slowly sagged.

His eyes stayed open, but there was nothing left in them.

Alaric walked over to Jared's side and looked at the bodies for a long time before speaking. "Marshal Vale. True Immortal Realm Level Nine. We can't beat him."

"I know." Jared's voice stayed even. "So we can't fight him head-on. We need help."

"Help? Where are we supposed to find that?" Elara's voice came out unsteady.

Jared reached into his robe and took out a silver-white jade slip. It was the token Gideon had given him from the Resistance.

"There is a human resistance in the Sixteenth Firmament. They're in Freevale, in the eastern region. We need to find them."

Alaric frowned. "Freevale in the eastern region? That's human territory. Our Frost Deity Branch..."

"The Frost Deity Branch is an enemy of the celestials too."

Jared cut him off. "The enemy of our enemy is our friend. Let's move. We can't stay here. Marshal Vale will notice soon enough that his men are dead, and by then, even if we want to leave, we won't be able to."

The five companions left the ice gorge at once and sped toward the eastern region.

Behind them, in the ice gorge, thirty-seven corpses lay in silence under the moonlight.

Golden blood had frozen across the ice, turning into dark-gold ice crystals.

At the edge of the ice plains, the celestial camp.

Marshal Vale sat inside the main tent with his eyes closed.

His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest.

His face looked carved from stone.

His long black hair was tied behind his head, and black battle armor covered his body, every inch of it etched with concealment sigils.

He was at the True Immortal Realm Level Nine.

Among the three war champions under Alaric Wycliffe, he was the one most skilled at hiding himself and killing in the dark.

In front of him, a jade token floated in the air.

The glow on the jade token kept dimming.

It kept weakening.

That was Lucian Gold's life sigil.

The light on it represented its master's life.

The moment that light went out completely, it meant Lucian Gold was dead.

Marshal Vale opened his eyes and looked at the jade token.

He stayed there a long time without saying a word.

"Dead," he said softly, each word forced out as if through clenched teeth. "Thirty-seven men. All of them."

He rose to his feet and walked out of the main tent.

Then he looked toward the depths of the ice plains.

The ripples from the ruins upon the ice plains had already vanished.

But his instinct told him the people who killed Lucian Gold were fleeing toward the eastern region.

"Pass the order down," he said, his voice cold. "Gather all forces. Pursue them."

"My lord, which direction do we pursue?" the cultivator behind him asked.

Jared looked at him. "No. But we have to try."

Alaric went quiet for a moment. "What if the Resistance doesn't want to help us?"

Jared gave a small smile. "Then we'll persuade them."

Elara sat off to the side with her knees drawn up, looking toward the distant sky.

There was a lost look in her eyes, and something else with it that had not gone out yet.

After being sealed in ice for thousands of years, she could already tell the world outside had changed.

She had no idea what was waiting for her ahead. But as long as the Palace Mistress and Jared were with her, she wouldn't flinch.

Cedric stood on a high rock and looked out into the distance.

He held the ice spear in his hand, and the cold gleam at its tip flickered with a dim blue light under the sun.

His eyes shone bright, bright as stars in the middle of the night.

Gwendolyn walked over to Jared and sat down beside him. "Jared, what do you think is in Freevale?"

Jared took a moment, then said, "Hope."

Gwendolyn looked at him and said nothing.

She knew what Jared meant. The hope he was talking about wasn't just the Resistance's hope. It was the hope of every race living under celestial oppression.

Jared rose to his feet and brushed the dust off himself. "Let's go. We've still got a long way to travel."

The five companions got up and continued sweeping toward the eastern region.

The five companions traveled across the Wastelands for another three days.

The gray-black rock underfoot gradually gave way to sparse grass, and the grass slowly thickened into low shrubs.

The air was no longer dry. It carried a faint damp scent of earth.

The sun rose in the east and fell on the western side. At night, the two moons appeared one after the other like two silent watchers.

Jared hardly spoke along the way.

His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, only occasionally turning back for a glance at the path behind them.

Marshal Vale's pursuers never showed themselves. Jared knew that didn't mean they had shaken him off. It only meant the other side was waiting, waiting for them to let their guard down, waiting for them to expose a flaw on their own.