A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6498

By the time Venerable Starwick returned to Pole Star Hall, the night had already deepened.

Within the great hall, the lamps burned bright. The four Golden Immortal elders still stood exactly where they had been, not having moved a single step.

They had stood there for a full day and night. Their legs had gone numb, and sweat had soaked through their robes, but not one of them had dared to sit.

The moment Venerable Starwick entered the great hall, all four bent at the waist in salute, their eyes fixed on him as if every answer they needed was written on his face.

"Hall Master, how did it go?" Elder Rowe spoke first, his voice hoarse, carrying a thin edge that could not wait any longer.

Venerable Starwick did not answer right away. He walked to the black throne and slowly sat down.

His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest. Once. Then again.

A dark cast settled over his face, yet deep in his eyes, a cold glint flickered so faintly it almost escaped notice.

"Deepvault Cloister agreed. Venerable Glacier will send 500 soldiers. His condition is thirty percent of that relic, along with thirty percent of Beastmoor Ridge's resources."

His voice sounded calm. Too calm. Calm enough to make a person's skin prickle.

The four elders exchanged a look, and none of them looked willing to swallow it cleanly.

Elder Pennyworth stepped forward, cupped his fist, and said, "Hall Master, 500 soldiers for thirty percent is far too..."

"I know."

Venerable Starwick cut him off. "But that old fox Glacier is not easy to fool. He already knows about the relic. If we do not give it to him, he will not send troops. We have no choice."

The four elders fell silent.

They knew the Hall Master was telling the truth.

Without Deepvault Cloister's help, if Pole Star Hall attacked Beastmoor Ridge alone, even victory would be a brutal, hollow victory.

By then, Pole Star Hall itself would be the one paying the heavier price.

"What about Saintspire Court?" Elder Rowe asked.

Venerable Starwick’s face darkened another shade. “Venerable Clarendon wants five tenths.”

“Five tenths?” Elder Leary blurted, his voice breaking sharp through the hall. “He’s only at the middle phase of Golden Immortal Level Three, and he dares ask for five tenths? Hall Master, did you agree to that?”

Venerable Starwick gave a cold snort. “And if I didn’t, what then? Venerable Clarendon made it clear. He doesn’t mind waiting until both sides are badly worn down, then stepping in to clean up the mess. By then, he won’t need to send a single soldier, and he can take everything.”

Within the great hall, silence dropped like a burial shroud.

The four elders’ faces had turned rigid and tight, each one worse to look at than the last.

Three tenths, plus five tenths, already made eight tenths.

Pole Star Hall would do all the running, all the fighting, all the bleeding, and in the end it would be left with only two tenths.

No matter how they counted it, this deal was a ruinous loss.

Elder Rowe forced the words out between clenched teeth, his voice low. “Hall Master, if that’s the case, then won’t Pole Star Hall be left with only two tenths...”

Venerable Starwick lifted a hand, cutting him off before he could say another word.

He leaned back against the black throne. His fingers still tapped lightly against the armrest, slow and steady, each sound measured into the silence.

There was no flare in his eyes, no trace of being unwilling to swallow the terms. Only a stillness cold enough to make the skin tighten.

“Do you really believe I intend to divide the relic with them?”

The four elders froze at the same time.

Elder Rowe’s eyes sharpened at once. “Hall Master, you mean...”

Venerable Starwick let out a cold laugh. The curve of it carried no warmth at all, as if the temperature inside the great hall had slipped down by several degrees.

“Deepvault Cloister, Saintspire Court—I know exactly what kind of calculations they’re making. At most, they want to use this chance to bite a chunk of flesh off me. But they forgot one thing. I have never been someone who lets others carve him up.”

He rose from the black throne and walked to the center of the great hall. With his hands clasped behind his back, he looked up at the glowing emberstone crystals set into the dome.

Golden radiance spilled over him and stretched his shadow long across the floor.

“Deepvault Cloister—the remnants of the Frost Deity Branch. Back then, they were suppressed within the celestials and fled to the Seventeenth Firmament just to drag out their lives. Does Venerable Glacier truly believe I left him alone all these years because I was wary of him? Ridiculous. I simply never bothered with a pack of homeless dogs.”

His voice made the very name sound unworthy of being spoken. “This time, he delivered himself to my door. How could I possibly let him go?”

Elder Rowe’s breathing turned uneven. “Hall Master, you’re planning to...”

“Use them first. Take Beastmoor Ridge. Once Beastmoor Ridge falls and their forces have been worn down almost enough, I will turn on them.”

A cold glint flashed through Venerable Starwick’s eyes. “When that time comes, how many of Deepvault Cloister’s five hundred cultivators will make it back alive? Whether Venerable Glacier himself can leave Beastmoor Ridge with his life will be a question.”

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