The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5659

Jared and Sylvia approached the stone gate, their footsteps echoing in a hush that felt like a chapel.

Up close, the surface was glass-smooth, unmarked by rune or word—an obstinate slab of eternity.

Jared planted his palms and shoved. Muscles corded, breath hissed; nothing.

Sylvia laid her hand upon the rock. Without a sound, the gate parted like polite servants, rolling aside.

Why would it open for her and not for me? Jared was shocked.

"Why?" Jared asked, eyes still wide.

"Maybe," Sylvia said with a playful shrug, "the gate just prefers women."

Jared had no comeback. They stepped across the threshold together. The moment their heels left the sill, the stone wings slammed shut, sealing them inside a breathless darkness.

"Welcome, you two..." a voice rasped, each syllable brittle with age. Light seeped in. A white-haired elder coalesced from the gloom, beard and hair drifting like cobweb.

"Jared, that old man—" Sylvia began, concern sharpening her whisper.

"Kill him." The single word left Jared's mouth like the pull of a trigger. His Dragonslayer Sword flashed, an arc of silver fury cleaving the elder cleanly in two. The halves slid apart on a line of light.

The old man was taken aback.

A heartbeat later, the bisected body flowed back together, flesh knitting as though time itself rewound. "What are you doing?" he barked, brushing phantom dust from his robes. "Why did you attack right away? Lucky for you, I'm only a projection, or I'd be dead already!"

"Isn't this a test?" Jared lowered his blade, utterly unapologetic. "They want to know whether I'm soft. So when I meet the old or the young, I strike first. Saves everyone the trouble."

"Yes, this is a trial," the man said, voice like gravel raked over steel. "But I'm the examiner. Lay a finger on me, and you'll never set foot inside those ruins again."

The words cracked across the air. Rage flickered in his ancient eyes, louder than any thunderclap.

"Of course not," Jared answered. "I'll stay hidden, watching in case there are other children alive."

"And should one more stumble out? Will you swing again?"

Jared shook his head, the gesture slow. "Not once. Four times."

Sylvia blinked, stunned. "Four times?"

"One through the heart," Jared explained. "A second into the right chest—hearts sometimes grow on the wrong side. A third through the throat, lest he wear his heart there. A last into the belly, for those who hide their hearts deep."

Sylvia could only stare, words withering before they formed.

The Examiner threw another impossible scenario. "Now picture yet another child. He clings to your leg, begging for life. You hold a sword in one hand, a piece of candy in the other. How do you judge whether he deserves death?"

"Child's play," Jared said with a faint smile. "If he is holding a sword, he intends to kill. He cannot live."