The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5859

"Not in the water." Aurora shook her head, then lifted one gloved hand toward the tallest of three jagged ice spires. "There."

Following her gesture, Jared squinted up the sheer wall of frost. Halfway to the summit, a cavern of blue ice yawned, its mouth obscured by swirling mist that never dispersed.

That mist carried a presence—subtle, ancient, and vast. It seeped out in slow breaths, coiling round them with the oppressive majesty of something that had ruled these wastes long before mortal memory.

Cold, feral, imperious—the aura rumbled with a bestial violence barely held in check, like winter itself deciding whether the intruders were worth sparing.

"What... is that?" Jared's pupils constricted, heartbeat thundering inside his ears.

"The ice soul blood lotus guardian spirit beast," Aurora answered, every syllable turning the freezing air brittle. "One of the original natives of Eternal Ice Plains. For more than a thousand years, it has watched over the lotus. The two exist in symbiosis: the flower drinks in venomous chill and iron-rich lifeblood from the earth, while the beast cultivates on the lotus's distilled frost essence. If we wish to harvest the lotus, we must secure its permission—or defeat it outright."

Vermilion's face blanched. "Defeat it? Then... how strong is that creature?"

Aurora glanced sideways at him. "When I first stepped onto this tundra several millennia ago, it already stood at Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Seven. Where it ranks now... Even I cannot say."

Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Seven, several millennia ago! The thought struck like a shard of black ice.

Vermilion inhaled sharply, the ember of hope in his chest snuffed out before it could warm him.

A being of that caliber—Aurora herself might wrestle with it for days, and the three of them together would be snowflakes against a glacier.

Jared's brow knit into a hard line.

Level Seven back then... If it has advanced even one rank since, we're talking Level Eight or Nine—perhaps higher. I can push my limits to feel an upper Level Eight and dance with a Nine, but anything beyond... would swallow every trick I possess and still come for more. Worse, spirit beasts at equal rank already outmatch human cultivators in raw brutality.

"Lady Aurora, there has to be another way," Clara blurted, her voice a brittle chime in the stillness.

"There is." Aurora inclined her head. "I may attempt parley—offer treasures of equal worth. Yet the creature is proud, volatile, and bound to the lotus by a bond forged over centuries. It may refuse outright, and if it does..."

Lady Aurora's voice rang out, cool and precise. "What that beast despises above all is the mortal taint clinging to human cultivators. Yesterday, your group hacked its way here, blood mist billowing into the heavens. It sensed you instantly. The only reason it kept its claw was out of respect for me."

Jared fell silent for a heartbeat, his breath fogging in the frigid air. "And if the attempt at parley fails?"

"Then, Jared, your fate will rest on your own shoulders."

A thin smile ghosted across her lips. "I can suppress the barrier encircling the frostpool long enough for you to slip into the basin. Whether you pluck the blood lotus or perish beneath the ice depends entirely on your skill."

Unable to hold back, Vermilion barked, "Lady Aurora, can't you fight beside him?"

Ancient Frost-Drake blood... dragon's power... I carry the pure Golden Dragon bloodline. Spirit beast or divine beast—before Golden Dragon, they should kneel. The power inside me isn't fully awakened, yet authenticity may outweigh sheer force. I have to try.

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