The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6288

Early the next morning, Jared got out of bed looking refreshed. Vivian was still lying there, too drained to move.

Jared took Roland and twenty elites from the Sky Dragon Lineage and set out for the Demon Marches.

Lydia Wraithmoor, Evelyn Ashcroft, Luther, and Grace all wanted to go with him, but Jared didn't allow it.

"I alone am enough," he said. His tone was calm, but it left no room to argue. "You all stay in Cloudhaven City and watch over home."

Lydia Wraithmoor wasn't willing to let it go, but she also knew Jared was telling the truth.

With the power Jared had now, there really weren't many people left in the Fourteenth Firmament who could stop him.

"Be careful," Lydia said.

"Mm."

Jared led Roland and the others into the air.

They broke into streaks of light and vanished into the horizon.

Gwendolyn stood upon the city walls, watching their retreating figures disappear into the distance, a faint crease touching her brow.

She had wanted to go with them.

Jared hadn't allowed it.

Gwendolyn turned and walked down from the city walls.

Lydia stayed where she was atop the wall, looking at Gwendolyn's back as she left.

Then she suddenly said, "Do you like Jared?"

Gwendolyn's steps halted.

She didn't turn around.

"Does it matter whether I do or not?"

Lydia froze for a beat.

Gwendolyn's voice came out very soft, almost like she was speaking to herself. "I've lived for over ten thousand years. I'm long past the age for talk of love. My mission is to rebuild the Frost Deity Branch. Everything else... doesn't matter."

She kept walking and disappeared around the turn in the city wall.

Lydia stood there without moving, watching that distant, frost-cold figure.

Something rose in her chest, hard to name and harder to shake.

That woman was far more alone than Lydia had imagined.

The Demon Marches lay 30 thousand miles north of Cloudhaven City, a barren land shrouded in black mist.

The sky there was always dim and ashen.

The sun stayed buried behind thick clouds, and only once in a while did a few pale white rays slip through the cracks.

Not a blade of grass grew from the ground.

There was only charred black stone and cracked, dried earth.

The air was thick with the mixed stench of sulfur and rot.

It was enough to make a person sick the moment they breathed it in.

After Jared and his group entered the Demon Marches, their pace noticeably slowed.

It wasn't because anything was blocking them.

It was because the place was too quiet.

Wrongly quiet.

"Mr. Chance, something's wrong."

Roland kept his voice low. "There are usually plenty of low-level demons roaming around the outer edge of the Demon Marches. But we've been walking this long today, and we haven't seen a single one."

Jared gave a small nod.

He'd picked up the same thing.

This stretch of the Demon Marches looked like something had swept it clean.

"Keep moving," he said, his voice steady. "Whatever game they're playing, we're ending this today."

The group kept going, pushing deeper in.

After another 2 hours or so, a massive vale appeared ahead of them.

On both sides of the vale, black cliff walls rose so high they disappeared into the sky.

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