The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6050

"Celestials… Beast-Quelling Venerable… High Venerable…" The names hissed from between his teeth, each one a coal dropped onto his heart.

Fire rose behind his eyes. "If this debt goes unpaid, I-Jared is no man!"

He folded his legs, spine straight, and began knitting broken meridians together.

Deep in the Myriad Monster Mountain Range, a tattered column of beastfolk slipped through shadowed passes toward a hidden refuge.

At roll call they counted again. Two divisions once thirty rows deep now came to only three hundred twenty-seven names.

Bandaged limbs, torn armor, and hollow gazes told the rest.

"King Ironhide is gone… Elder Hartcrest is gone… so many brothers…"

A young wolf dropped to his knees, sobs shaking his lean frame.

A Beast General barked, voice hoarse yet unyielding, "They died protecting Mr. Jared and the future of our kind!"

"We survive for them. We carry their will until the day we strike back!"

Gaunt hands wiped tears. New light sparked in raw, reddened eyes.

"Revenge!"

"For King Ironhide!"

"For every fallen brother!"

The seed of hatred had already been pushed deep into the soil of every heart.

It lay quiet, waiting for the right season to crack the earth and blaze across the land like a wildfire.

At the same moment, inside the Central Divine Punishment Hall.

Stone pillars stretched toward the high vault, and cold silver flames burned in tall braziers, pushing every shadow flat against the marble floor.

The Grand Venerable stood before the jade table, battle report from the western region unrolled beneath his gauntleted hand.

A dark cloud settled over his face, as heavy as the ink on the page.

"Jared Chance… he slipped away again."

His voice cut through the hall like the snap of frost.

The Grand Venerable let out a thin breath.

"Still, the Beastfolk Resistance is almost wiped out—one of his arms has been hacked off."

The words rang without heat, the verdict of a butcher tallying meat.

After a moment’s silence he flicked his sleeve.

"Spread the order. Double the manhunt. Jared Chance is wounded and on the run; he will look for a place to mend himself."

"Tell every faction to inspect unfamiliar cultivators. Focus on those who are badly hurt and whose realm sits between the Heavenly Immortal and High Immortal stages."

"Also, track the exit of that teleportation array. It belongs to the Ghost Clan. Level thirteen still hides corners we have yet to pry open."

A glint colder than steel flashed in the High Venerable’s eyes.

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