The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5900

Where that note traveled, the very air shivered; even time seemed to hesitate, held spellbound by the call.

Every cultivator from Malevolent Path Hall froze mid-strike, as though unseen chains had snapped tight around their limbs.

Those already leaping toward the mountain gate fared worse. Invisible thunder pounded them from the sky; grunts burst from their throats as they were flung backward, blood streaming from eyes and ears.

At the front, the three deputy leaders blanched in unison.

"What's that sound?" Bonefiend asked, brow furrowing.

Annihilum hissed. "That's a dragon's roar... And one of absolute purity! Wait... Why are there Draconians in Earthfire Pavilion, though?"

Soulbane spat in the direction of the sound. "No matter. Whatever it is, it dies today."

Before the echo faded, a lance of gold shot out from the pavilion's depths.

In the blink of a heartbeat, it crossed several leagues of sky and halted above the shattered gate.

The light peeled away, unveiling three figures.

The one who stood foremost wore a wind-stirred teal robe. Midnight hair whipped behind a face both handsome and calm, his gaze as still as lake glass.

He hovered a step above the void, hands clasped behind his back. Even though his aura was only that of a Top Level Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Two, depth coiled beneath it like an ocean masked by morning mist.

To his left towered the Vermilion Demon Lord—a three-headed, six-armed colossus wreathed in billowing black fire. Each of the six fists brandished a demonic weapon, and the pressure of a Top Level Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Seven beat against the stones.

At his right, a gilded-crimson unicorn ten stories tall stamped hooves of living flame. Dragon-scaled armor glittered across its hide; its roar carried true draconic authority, its strength equal to the demon lord beside it.

Ignatius' eyes widened. "Jared?"

He froze for half a heartbeat. Color drained from his flame-scarred cheeks, then flared back, hotter than the embers that licked across his crimson armor. "Why are you out here? Go back—now! You shouldn't be here!"

Ignatius' terror made sense. Jared was gifted, yes, but he still hovered at Top Level Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Two.

The three deputy leaders, on the other hand, were all at Top Level Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Nine. Going up against them would be a hopeless endeavor.

"Mr. Chance is here!" Around the fractured gate, Earthfire Pavilion disciples brightened when they spotted Jared, then immediately sagged back into dread.

"Hurry up and leave, Mr. Chance! Don't worry about us!"

"That's right, Mr. Chance. Take Princess Lindsay and get as far from here as you can!"

Jared acted as though the cries never reached him. He swept a calm, unblinking gaze over the black-armored horde of Malevolent Path Hall, then fixed on the trio of deputy leaders who floated above the ruins like ravens scenting carrion.

"You three dare to storm Earthfire Pavilion, huh? Have you asked me for my permission yet?"

The words were spoken softly, yet they threaded every corner of the broken courtyard with crystalline clarity.

Silence dropped like a guillotine. Even the flames crackling in shattered braziers seemed to hold their breath.

A single beat later, time exhaled again—and Bonefiend erupted in laughter, a harsh, scraping cackle that rattled loose stones off the pavilion walls.

"Haha! Who the hell are you, kid? A mere Top Level Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Two fledgling dares address us as equals?"

He jabbed a bony finger at Jared, mock astonishment twisting his skeletal grin. "You think a pet unicorn and a Demonic Cultivator at your side will bend fate? To me, boy, you're only slightly better than an insignificant being."

Soulbane snorted, flicking ash from his blood-red gauntlet. "Ignatius, this is your so-called ace in the hole? A Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Two young cultivator? Hahaha. How pathetic."

Annihilum's dead eyes locked on Lucky the fire unicorn. Grey mist writhed around his cloak like hungry spirits. "That's a pure-blood unicorn right there. Oh, it'd make for a splendid trophy," he crooned. "Hand it over, kid, and I may grant you a swift death."

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