A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6414

"Elder Cillian no longer offered even half a refusal.

He accepted on the spot and immediately summoned the 300 elite Sylvan warriors under his command. Once the ranks were assembled, they followed Jared in orderly formation and stepped into Pentacarna Tower's inner sanctum."

"Within the tower, the view opened all at once.

A pure white silence stretched before them, vast and without end."

"The world's spiritual essence came rushing toward them, pure and dense, so thick it had nearly condensed into liquid spiritual mist.

Thread by thread, it slipped into the cultivators' meridians and pores, nourishing them with a gentle touch, silent as rain soaking into the earth."

"The 300 Sylvan warriors needed no orders.

As if they had moved through this exact drill a thousand times, they dropped into place where they stood, folded their legs beneath them, closed their eyes, and gathered their focus. One after another, they began circulating the innate arcane arts of the Sylvan Kin."

"They drew in the surging spiritual essence around them in deep, almost hungry pulls.

That power poured through their bodies, tending to damaged meridians and steadying the cultivation they had fought so hard to preserve."

"Elder Cillian stopped at the center of the sanctum.

He settled his mind and began circulating his own arcane arts in silence."

"The changes inside him came fast enough to be undeniable.

His drained spiritual power surged back in a rush. Damaged meridians knit themselves together with startling speed. His nascence lifeblood filled out little by little, steady and strong, until the weight that had clung to his entire body was swept clean away.

The look in his eyes deepened by the moment, and when he spoke, every word came from somewhere solid."

"One day outside, 100 days inside the tower. The gap between time and space is enormous."

"With this sovereign relic supporting us, it won't take more than a few days for the whole Sylvan Kin to recover all battle strength and return to Top Level. Our cultivation may even advance across the board. When the time comes to face the Celestial Army, the Sylvan lineage will not drag anyone down."

Jared gave a faint, easy smile, his voice level enough to settle the matter. "Elder, remain here with your people and focus on cultivation and recovery. Outside the vale, all defense, scouting, and preparations for war will be handled under my command. None of you need to divide your attention over it."

"Once he finished speaking, Jared turned and slowly withdrew from Pentacarna Tower.

With a lift of his hand, he cast the necessary spell and placed the ancient tower firmly in the very center of Freevale's central square."

"The black tower stood quietly over the square.

It did not flaunt its power. It did not radiate sharpness. A soft, warm warding radiance drifted from it instead, spreading in a calm cover over the entire vale and sheltering every cultivator within it."

"Nathaniel strode over quickly.

His gaze fixed on Pentacarna Tower where it stood, and the weight behind his words came out low and steady."

"With this sovereign relic holding the vale, every one of our warriors can recover battle strength at speed. Our preparations will move far faster now. Against the celestials, we finally have enough ground under our feet."

"Jared nodded with care.

His eyes shifted toward the distant direction of the Celestial Alliance, and the edge in them stayed buried deep."

"This isn't only about recovering battle strength. The time inside the tower is enough for every warrior to enter secluded cultivation, temper their foundations, and break through their current bottlenecks. Only by raising the entire force's level can we face the high-ranking celestial adepts head-on with full certainty."

From that day on, all Freevale warriors and the rescued cultivators took turns entering Pentacarna Tower's inner sanctum in orderly groups for secluded cultivation.

"Each day, the cultivators who emerged from inside the tower carried a denser, stronger aura than when they had gone in.

Their foundations grew more solid. Their states of mind settled into something steadier, harder to shake."

"Across the vale, figures could be seen everywhere.

Some paired off to spar and refine their combat skills. Some quietly polished their techniques. Others focused on stabilizing their cultivation.

The entire place rose with momentum, bright with morale, every corner showing the same thriving sight of people throwing everything they had into preparation for war."

"At the same time, 1,000 miles away, within the High Hall of the Celestial Alliance, the air sat heavy and dead.

Frost energy seemed to bite through the hall itself, a world apart from the warmth gathering over Freevale."

"The High Sovereign of the Alliance, Alaric, sat high upon the gilded throne.

His ornate gold robe sharpened the cold authority around him. Long fingers tapped the icy armrest again and again, neither hard nor soft, each slow beat pressing down on the hall."

"At the exact center of the hall, a low-ranking celestial cultivator knelt hard against the floor.

His whole body shook. His clothes hung in disarray, and his face had gone drained and tight."

"His forehead stayed pressed to the cold surface of the hall.

Cold sweat ran over him without stopping. He did not dare lift his head toward Alaric on the throne, and every inch of him seemed pinned there by the terror of what waited above."

"Say that again. Marshal Vale... truly died in Blackstone Gaol's Third Depth?"

"Alaric's voice carried no ripple at all.

Not the slightest trace of pleasure or displeasure could be heard in it."

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