A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6613

Jared looked at Aurelius, his violet eyes utterly still.

"Too bad you won't be there to see it."

The moment the words left him, the Dragonslayer Sword rose.

Violet blade-light ripped across the sky like lightning splitting the world apart as it slashed toward Aurelius.

Aurelius threw up the Cinder Emperor's Blade and tried to make one last stand.

Red-gold blade-light poured from the sword and formed a wall of flame in front of him.

But in front of that violet strike, the wall of flame was as flimsy as paper.

The blade-light tore through the flames and cut into Aurelius.

Crack—

His red-gold armor shattered.

Blood sprayed.

Aurelius's body slowly collapsed, his red-gold eyes still open, packed with despair, fury, unwillingness, and disbelief.

He died with his eyes open.

Aurelius, master of the Ember God Palace and a peak Golden Immortal Level Five cultivator, died by Jared's sword.

Silence smothered the mountain gate.

Everyone stared at Aurelius's corpse, their expressions tangled and unreadable.

Of the thousands of Ember God Palace disciples, some were dead, some had fled, and only a pitiful few remained.

Dozens of elders had all died in battle.

Aurelius, the palace lord, had fallen in battle.

In less than half an hour, Jared had single-handedly crushed the Ember God Palace.

Gareth drew a deep breath and forced down the shock still crashing through him.

Then he turned to Jared, something complicated flickering through his red-gold eyes.

"Mr. Chance, as for Cedric... let's end the matter here."

His voice was calm, calm enough to make it sound like he was discussing something too trivial to matter.

"A chapter master from the Eighteenth Firmament isn't worth much. Dead is dead. At worst, the Abyssal Exchange sends someone else to take his place."

Jared looked at Gareth.

Nothing moved in his violet eyes.

"So you’re not planning to avenge Cedric, Envoy Gareth?"

Gareth shook his head, a bitter curve tugging at his mouth.

"Avenge him? For what? Cedric wanted to kill you, Mr. Chance, and you killed him instead. That’s normal.

The strong devour the weak. That’s how the world works. The Abyssal Exchange isn’t going to offend a young man with limitless potential for the sake of someone who’s already dead."

He had changed his position so fast that the thirty-odd cultivators of the Abyssal Exchange behind him could barely process it.

But not one of them dared say a word.

Because they all knew Gareth was right.

In the face of absolute power, revenge and pride were both meaningless.

Only profit lasted.

Jared nodded.

"You understand how things work, Envoy Gareth."

Gareth cupped his hands. "You flatter me, Mr. Chance. The Abyssal Exchange may be powerful, but we aren’t unreasonable.

What happened to Cedric was his own doing. From this day forward, the Abyssal Exchange will not trouble you over this matter again."

Jared fell silent for a moment.

A flicker of thought passed through his violet eyes.

"Envoy Gareth, I want to ask you for a favor."

One of Gareth’s brows lifted slightly. "Please, go ahead, Mr. Chance."

"I’m looking for someone."

There was a rare gravity in Jared’s voice. "Her name is Josephine. I don’t know whether she’s still in the Eighteenth Firmament."

Jared withdrew his gaze and looked down at the Ember God Palace beneath him.

The red-gold palace still shimmered under the sunlight.

But the air was thick with the stench of blood, and the ground was strewn with red-gold blood and shattered armor.

Thousands of bodies lay twisted across the ground.

Every death looked different, but all of them had the same thing in common—their eyes were wide open, frozen with fear and unwillingness to die.

Master Alaric Vale walked up beside Jared, something complicated passing through his aged eyes.

"Mr. Chance, the Ember God Palace is finished."

Jared nodded. "Clean up the battlefield. Take every resource that's still worth using."

"Yes!" all three hundred disciples shouted as one.

It took a full day to strip the Ember God Palace of everything worth taking.

When it was finally done, the three hundred disciples of Ashford Hollow sheathed their longswords, formed up in neat ranks behind Jared, and began the return to Ashford Hollow.

Their blue-green robes snapped in the morning wind.

At their waists, longswords knocked softly together, ringing out with crisp, metallic chimes.

Gwendolyn walked at Jared's side. A few drops of red-gold blood stained her ice-white dress, glinting in the sunlight with an eerie sheen.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked.

Jared was quiet for a moment, his violet eyes fixed on the distance.

"Josephine."

His voice was so soft only Gwendolyn could hear it.

"I don't know if she's doing all right. I don't know whether her injuries have healed, or if she's still in danger."

Gwendolyn said nothing for a moment, then reached over and took his hand.

"You'll find her," Gwendolyn said. "And she'll remember you."

"Yeah."

Jared nodded and tightened his grip on Gwendolyn's hand.