The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6393

Chief Greenwood waved a hand, a gentle smile spreading across his face, the gratitude in his eyes impossible to miss.

"Master Chance, there's no need for formalities. You saved the foundation of the Sylvan Kin. You saved all of Evershade."

"As for cooperation, there is naturally no problem at all. There's no need to discuss it further."

He lifted his gaze toward the Sylvan clansfolk behind him, and his tone turned firm.

"I'll arrange it at once and choose elites from among our people to go back to Freevale with you."

"We will fight at your side and stand together against the Celestial Alliance's invasion. Even if the Sylvan Kin must spend every last ounce of strength, we will not retreat."

At that, a spark flashed through Jared's eyes.

He held himself up by force, then gave Chief Greenwood a deep salute, his voice respectful and earnest.

"Thank you for your trust, Chief!"

"With the Sylvan Kin helping us, our chances against the Celestial Alliance just grew that much stronger!"

But the moment Jared finished speaking, the smile on Chief Greenwood's face began to fade.

That smile vanished from Greenwood's face.

In its place came a trace of strain. His brows drew together, and when he spoke again, his voice carried a heavier weight.

It was the look of a man holding back something he could not easily say.

"However, Master Chance, there's one problem I need to tell you in advance."

"It may affect how we arrange our cooperation going forward," Greenwood said.

Jared looked at the sudden change in Greenwood's expression, and his chest dropped.

A bad sign rose quietly under the surface.

The smile left his face too.

He steadied his expression and spoke slowly.

"Please, Clan Chief, go ahead. Whatever the problem is, we can figure out a solution together."

Greenwood let out a light sigh and looked toward the lush ancient forest around them.

His eyes lingered there, reluctant and resigned.

When he spoke, the years in his voice were impossible to miss.

"Our Sylvan Kin have been rooted here since the elder age, born in this ancient forest and raised in this ancient forest."

"Long ago, we became one with this land."

"The spiritual power inside us does not come from the world's spiritual essence alone. It is bound closely to the spiritual essence of this realm of Evershade."

"It is the spirit-vein's power of the ancient forest that has nourished us and given shape to the innate gifts of the Sylvan Kin."

He raised a hand.

A thread of blue-green spiritual power flickered into his palm.

A faint scent of grass and wood drifted from it, as if the life of the ancient forest itself had been gathered inside that glow.

"Once we leave this ancient forest, the spiritual power within us loses the nourishment of its source."

"Our speed in absorbing the world's spiritual essence becomes painfully slow, not even one-tenth of what it is inside the forest."

"Even with high-grade healing elixirs and spirit stones to replenish us, that outside spiritual essence still struggles to merge with the spirit-vein's power already in our bodies."

"It takes an extremely long time before we can refine it and turn it into spiritual power we can actually use."

By the time he reached that point, Greenwood's voice had grown even heavier.

A bitter note flashed through his eyes.

"More importantly, every battle drains our Sylvan warriors heavily."

"If they want to recover to full strength, they need far more time than any other race."

"Only when we return to this ancient forest and stand once more in the spirit-vein's power would our recovery speed rise dramatically."

"Only then could we quickly return to the Ancient Battlefield."

Greenwood paused.

Then he spoke again, slow and heavy.

"That's one of the reasons the Sylvan Kin have remained trapped here for hundreds of years, never daring to leave Evershade lightly."

"It isn't that we don't want to go out. It isn't that we fear the Celestial Alliance."

"It's that we can't."

"The moment we leave the ancient forest, our combat strength drops sharply, and our recovery slows to a crawl."

"If we ran into a powerful enemy then, we'd be nothing but lambs waiting for the knife."

"Not only would we fail to help our allies, we'd become their burden instead."

The surrounding Sylvan clansfolk heard that, and the light on their faces dimmed.

Some lowered their heads.

A bleak, weighty, commanding presence rolled off it, like something that had been worn and tempered by endless ages.

Just looking at it made reverence rise on its own.

Its tip came to a slight point, and a faint wisp of black mist curled around it, carrying a force that seemed capable of pressing down on all things.

"This is the Pentacarna Tower," Jared said, his voice low and steady, touched with quiet authority.

"This tower is an elder-age relic. Inside it, there is a chamber of its own."

"The flow of time in that chamber is completely different from the outside world. One day outside is a hundred days inside the tower."

"If the Sylvan Kin's warriors need to recover after battle, they only need to enter within the Pentacarna Tower and recuperate."

"That gives them more than enough time to refine spiritual essence and mend their injuries."

"Even someone badly wounded can return to full strength in a short time."

Chief Greenwood's pupils shrank sharply.

Shock flooded his eyes.

Chief Greenwood stared at the Pentacarna Tower in Jared's palm without blinking.

Even his body had started to tremble.

His lips moved, but for a long while, no words came out.

Only after what felt like forever did he force a few words out through clenched teeth, and even his voice caught on the way out.

"The Pentacarna Tower... this is actually the Pentacarna Tower from the legends!"

Jared looked at Chief Greenwood's reaction and found himself caught off guard.

He had only known that the Pentacarna Tower was an elder-age relic with the ability to accelerate time.

He hadn't expected Chief Greenwood to recognize it, much less react this strongly.

Jared lifted a brow and asked, "You know this tower, Clan Chief?"

Chief Greenwood drew in a deep breath and tried to steady himself.

He slowly reached out, wanting to touch the Pentacarna Tower, but stopped at the very instant his fingers were about to make contact.

His eyes stayed fixed on it, reverence laid plain there, as if what sat before him was something sacred that could not be defiled.

After a long while, he slowly withdrew his hand.

When he spoke again, age and reverence weighed on every word.