A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6413

As his words settled, the more than one thousand rescued cultivators behind him began entering Freevale in orderly waves.

"The cultivators of every kin wore torn clothing, their bodies marked with wounds both shallow and deep.

Their vitality still ran weak, yet every pair of eyes burned bright as stars, fixed on the steady warmth of a place where they could finally set their feet."

"Freevale warriors came forward on their own, carefully supporting the weaker wounded.

Clean water, warm dry rations, and clothing against the cold were handed out quickly. Everyone moved at speed, but no one fell into disorder, and warmth spread through the work itself."

The children within the vale gathered around with open curiosity and easy kindness, greeting the newcomers in soft voices.

"The women within the vale took out the soft cloth their households had kept stored away.

That very night, they set to work cutting and sewing new clothes for their newly arrived kinsmen of every people, making them fit well and hold in warmth."

"Across the entire vale, the sounds of reunion rose together.

Crying, laughter, and words of greeting tangled into one another until every sound reached the ear at once."

"No one could tell which sounds belonged to hardship and which belonged to return.

Only the warmth filling the vale remained clear, driving out the cold left behind by every suffering they had endured."

"Nathaniel stood alone on higher ground, looking down at the lively, harmonious crowd before him, at all those people gathered with one heart.

Tears blurred his sight again. This day had kept him waiting far, far too long."

"When night fell, a grand banquet was laid out across Freevale's square before the night was over.

Its scale surpassed every celebration the vale had ever held."

"The square's original stone tables and stone stools were nowhere near enough.

Without a word of complaint, Freevale warriors took down thick, flat wooden doors and set the panels across stone blocks to serve as simple tabletops."

"Bowls, chopsticks, and serving vessels were also in short supply.

So everyone brought out the plain wooden bowls and natural bamboo chopsticks they kept at home, making do together, and not one person fussed over the smallest inconvenience."

"There was not enough mellow wine to go around, so the Sylvan warriors acted as one.

Together, they stirred their pure verdant spiritual power and swiftly ripened the sweet wild fruits that grew naturally throughout the vale."

"Before the night ended, jar after jar of clean, refreshing fruit wine had been brewed.

Its fragrance was light, yet it sank straight into the chest."

"At the center of the square, a roaring bonfire burned through the night.

Warm orange blazing firelight leapt and swayed, falling gently across every face, pushing back the night chill until warmth seemed to cover the whole of Freevale."

"Jared sat in the seat of honor, surrounded by the people with a sincerity that left no distance around him.

His posture remained composed and steady. Gwendolyn, dressed in blue, sat quietly at his side, cool and gentle, keeping silent company and guarding him in peace."

"Nathaniel lifted a thick wooden bowl filled with fruit wine.

His voice rang like a great bell as he called out, carrying across the whole gathering."

"The first bowl of wine is to Mr. Chance! To the man who risked life and death, stormed into that purgatory, fought a high-ranking war champion alone, and brought countless kinsmen back with his own life on the line, holding up a stretch of sky for all of us!"

"To Mr. Chance!" a thousand voices answered as one, the sound crashing upward with a force that shook the night.

"Jared raised the wooden bowl in his hand and drank it down in one breath.

The wine passed into his throat, warmth sinking deeper, while a hard, shared resolve settled in his gaze."

"The second bowl of wine is to Elder Cillian! To the Sylvan lineage of Evershade, who saw the larger cause clearly and stepped forward with honor, counting no gains or losses as they fought shoulder to shoulder with Freevale, weathered the storm with us, and resisted tyranny at our side!"

"To the Sylvan Kin!" the whole gathering shouted again, their voices rising together as if one will had passed through them all.

"Elder Cillian gave a small nod in return.

His bearing stayed open and steady as he lifted his bowl and drained it in one swallow, every motion carrying the weight and restraint of an elder."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify