The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5847

"Move." Jared's voice was soft, yet the lone word sliced through the frozen stillness like cold steel.

He strode forward without a backward glance at the grotesque ice statues they had left behind. Each step was measured, almost leisurely, as though the slaughter moments earlier had been no more than a brisk evening stroll.

Behind him, Vermilion Demon Lord and Clara traded a glance, and in that fleeting exchange, both tasted the same emotion—reverence so deep it brushed the edge of fear.

With the ease of a lifted hand, he had crushed and erased twelve Heavenly-Immortal experts, two of them sixth-grade elites.

Power of that magnitude hovered beyond anything the pair—or anyone they knew—could truly comprehend.

When the trio emerged from the canyon, only twelve blinding, blood-red ice blossoms remained, scattered beside the shattered bones of the Ice Explosion Array. The silent tableau testified to how brief—and how brutal—the conflict had been.

Beyond the ravine, the land unfurled into a vast glacial basin, a pale-blue mirror beneath a sky the color of raw steel.

At the basin's heart rose a sparse grove of Ice-Crystal Ironwood, trunks tall and clear as hammered diamond. Though they glittered like sculpture, each gleaming bole was many times harder than tempered steel—prized for forging cold-element artifacts.

Tonight, that grove had become a murder ground.

As Jared and his companions stepped onto the basin's rim, a rolling chorus of low snarls drifted from among the trees.

The sound oozed hunger and violence—the promise of predators that left no survivors.

Clara's voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "Frostsoul Wolves—and Mystic Ice Giant Bears! Out here, each adult of those beasts rival a Level Five Heavenly Immortal, and their alphas touch Level Seven. Judging by that uproar, there are plenty. Since when could the Northern Abyss Celestial Clan control such brutes?"

Jared swept the grove with his spiritual sense, piecing the scene together in an instant.

More than three hundred Frostsoul Wolves crouched beneath the grove—each twice the size of a common wolf, pelts glimmering blue, fangs like daggers, claws flashing with hoarfrost.

Three among them loomed larger still, single horns jutting from their brows—wolf-kings whose very breath roared at Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Seven.

Behind the lupine tide lumbered eight Mystic Ice Giant Bear, each a moving cliff. Reared upright, they towered five stories high, muscles knotted beneath plates of ice-thick armor.

One silver-furred behemoth at the column's center radiated power at the very peak of Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Seven—the Alpha Bear

Even the grand sects on level ten would flinch before a legion of fang and claw like this.

Worse, every beast had been pushed past reason. Crimson eyes blazed, breaths hissed with madness; they would not stop until nothing living remained.

Jared spoke evenly, his gaze never leaving the trees. "They didn't tame them. Someone enraged—or lured—the pack, herding it onto our road. Better to let animals bleed us than face us themselves."

His words had scarcely faded when a razor-edged howl tore through the timber, chased by a thunderous ursine bellow.

Wolf-song knifed through the air, shrill and savage.

An answering bear roar shook snow from the branches.

Three hundred wolves burst from the wood, a cobalt tide skimming the ice and flinging clouds of powdered snow skyward.

Eight bears thundered after them; every footfall sent tremors skating across the frozen crust.

A beast tide.

A true, unstoppable beast tide.

Even a Level Eight Heavenly Immortal would think twice, choosing to harry from the flanks rather than meet that charging wall head-on.

Vermilion's complexion bleached to the color of old parchment. Before them stretched a living tide of fanged monsters, and he knew—even if Jared could stand against it—he and Clara would be little more than drifting leaves in that storm.

Clara inhaled sharply. Her blade whispered from its sheath, and a ribbon of chill, silver sword-energy gathered before her like autumn frost creeping across a windowpane.

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