A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6399

Nathaniel had not even wiped his tears dry before Jared caught him by the arm and led him straight to Elder Cillian.

"Nathaniel, this is Elder Cillian of the Sylvan Kin. He is a True Immortal Realm Level Eight, a venerable elder who has lived for more than 10 thousand years. The 300 elites sent by the Sylvan Kin this time are under his command."

Jared made the introduction cleanly, leaving no room for anyone to miss the weight of the man before them.

Nathaniel immediately clasped his fists. His voice still carried the roughness left behind after his throat had tightened. "Elder Cillian, thank you and the Sylvan Kin for coming to our aid with such honor. Everyone in Freevale is beyond grateful."

Elder Cillian wore deep green spirit-wrought robes, and fine threads of verdant spirit-glow wound through the edges of his sleeves.

His face was gentle and refined. His white hair had been tied back, and the calm weight of 10 thousand years had settled into his brow and eyes.

The wood-aspected spiritual power around him stretched deep and mellow. It was nothing like the harsh, domineering bite of celestial holy radiance; instead, it carried the soft breadth of something that nourished all living things.

After hearing Nathaniel's earnest thanks, Elder Cillian slowly raised a hand and answered with a mild smile, returning the courtesy with unhurried composure. His bearing stayed humble from beginning to end, without a trace of the arrogance one might expect from an ancient elder.

"Chieftain Linford, there is no need for such ceremony, and even less need to thank us."

Elder Cillian's gaze reached far beyond the wall for a moment before he spoke again, each word carrying deliberate weight.

"In the past, Master Chance entered Evershade, broke the Elder Seal within our clan, slew the primeval marauder that had been corroding the Sylvan nascence, preserved the foundation where our people have lived for generations, and protected the survival of tens of thousands of Sylvan clansmen."

"That grace was no less than giving us life anew. It weighs heavier than mountains and rivers. All the Sylvan Kin have carved it into our bones and will never forget it."

He lifted his eyes to Jared beside him, and the look he gave him was open, steady, and wholly earned.

"Even a single drop of kindness should be repaid with a spring, much less the grace of preserving our lives. From this day forward, the Sylvan Kin and Freevale will seal our alliance by blood and become ironbound allies, bound together in life and death."

"Fortune or disaster, advance or retreat, we move as one. If Freevale ever faces danger, the Sylvan Kin will pour out the strength of our entire clan. We will walk through boiling water and burning fire, and we will not refuse."

With those few plain words, the bond between the two great forces was set. For the Resistance front, already balanced on the edge, a crucial foundation stone had been locked firmly into place.

The two reached out and clasped hands with force. The instant their palms met, the unyielding resolve of a human cultivator and the vast 10-thousand-year vitality of Sylvan wood and grass wove together as one.

The force of the covenant formed quietly, unseen but real. From that moment on, Freevale no longer stood alone.

Once the handshake ended, Jared shifted aside and raised his hand, introducing the several Sylvan champions behind him one by one.

"These are the captains of the Sylvan vanguard company. Every one of them is a veteran powerhouse tempered through a hundred battles, and the lowest among them has reached True Immortal Realm Level Seven."

"They have guarded the Evershade Marches year-round, fought countless battles against foreign tribes and savage beasts, and their field experience far surpasses cultivators of equal rank."

Nathaniel followed Jared's gesture and looked at them one after another. His heart slammed hard in his chest, and a blazing surge rose in his eyes, too strong to hide.

The Sylvan captains kept their auras restrained and deep. Verdant spirit-glow flowed around them with perfect control, their stances steady as mountains and their gazes sharp and fathomless.

Even without a single word, the killing presence forged through years on the battlefield pressed off them in silence.

The 300 members of the Sylvan vanguard stood in clean ranks, their formation disciplined and exact. Every one of them brimmed with spiritual power, their bodies tough, their collective aura unified and immense, without the slightest trace of looseness or neglect.

Every last one of them was a battle-seasoned veteran, the kind who had traded life against death so many times that survival itself seemed carved into their bones.

For elite fighting strength like this to arrive all at once was no different from firewood delivered in the middle of a snowstorm.

"Nathaniel’s mind moved fast.

Freevale had been dragged through battle after battle. Nearly half of its elites had fallen. Wounded men lay everywhere, and the force it could still put into the field had been cut down hard."

"But the three hundred Sylvan warriors standing before him were all top-tier fighters, and their foundation as a unit ran deep.

Add them to what Freevale still had, and Freevale’s overall fighting strength did more than double on the spot. It was enough, even, to meet a medium-sized garrison of the Celestial Alliance head-on and hold the line."

The dark weight that had pressed over them for days was swept clean in that moment, leaving no room for it to cling.

"A fierce current rose through Nathaniel’s chest.

He snapped one hand up and swept it forward. His voice rolled across the entire vale, crashing out in every direction."

"All troops, form ranks! Open the valley gate wide! Enter the city at once and rest!"

"Tonight, all of Freevale will hold a feast. Set out one hundred banquet tables. Prepare every jar of wine and every cut of meat we have."

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