The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6489

Silas walked at the very front of the group, opening the way.

"Black, shadowed light flowed around him.

A dense layer of dark spiritual power covered the surface of his fitted clothes, sealing out the chaos-mist pressing in from every side."

"His steps were steady, his gaze knife-sharp.

Those black eyes pierced through the gray fog, reading the path ahead with precision as he avoided hidden spatial rifts and chaos whirlpools."

Murderous intent coiled around him, warning off whatever unknown living things lay hidden within the sanctuary.

"Luna held the rear.

Her white robes stood out sharply inside the dim gray fog."

"The white-jade fly-whisk in her hand kept sweeping lightly.

Snow-white threads traced soft arcs through the air, and streams of glowing white spiritual light spread outward, building a second fine protective barrier around the three of them."

"That pure white spiritual power was gentle but tough.

It actively intercepted great numbers of fragments of the Law of Chaos, easing the drain on the other two."

"Her expression stayed calm, her breathing even.

She quietly guarded the rear of the group, watching for any danger that might strike from behind."

"Master Wellspring walked in the center of the formation.

The white jade soul phial at his chest remained pressed tight against his skin, its warmth clear and constant."

"Jared's soul was sealed inside the jade phial, where every sense had been magnified without limit.

The violent chaotic force outside, the broken fluctuations of the laws of the realm, and the spiritual power auras of all three companions reached him in full."

"He could clearly detect Master Wellspring's spiritual power being consumed at terrifying speed.

He could also sense the nonstop tearing pain his meridians were bearing, and the frail soul inside the phial gave a faint, restless tremor."

"Master Wellspring."

Jared's low voice slipped softly out of the jade phial, avoiding the detection of the other two so that only Master Wellspring could hear it. "The chaotic force is too violent. The laws of the realm here are in disorder, and your spiritual power is being consumed far faster than it would be in an ordinary place. Do not force yourself to endure it. If your spiritual power is overdrawn, withdraw and recover at once. Do not be stubborn."

"Master Wellspring did not stop walking.

His back stayed straight, and when he answered, his voice came out steady and firm, without the slightest crack in it."

"Rest assured, Aureate Heir. Your servant can still hold on."

"This little loss of spiritual power is nothing to fear. As long as we can find the Genesis Dew, this pain and this consumption are not worth mentioning."

"He had prepared himself long ago to pay the price.

For the sake of rebuilding Jared's body, even if his spiritual power was drained dry and heavy injuries were carved into him, he would never turn back halfway."

"The three of them continued deeper into the sanctuary.

The fog around them grew thicker and thicker, the gray murk darkening until it was nearly ink-black, compressing their field of vision to within 2 yards."

"There was no real path underfoot.

The ground had formed from soft, turbid chaos energy. Each step sank into it with a weak, spongy give and a faint sticky drag, forcing them to spend extra spiritual power just to keep their bodies steady."

"The world around them held a dead silence.

No wind. No beast cries. Not the smallest sound of anything alive.

That absolute quiet pressed down on the mind until every breath seemed too loud, until danger felt as if it had only gone still instead of gone away."

"Only the thin, sizzling rasp of law-fragments striking the barrier remained.

The sound repeated without change, small and sharp, tapping again and again against the minds of all three."

That silent, grinding march continued for a full half hour.

Just as the three of them had fallen into the rhythm of moving forward, a blurred figure slowly emerged from the thick gray fog ahead.

"The solitary figure looked slender and upright.

His bearing was proper, almost elegant, and through the haze they could just make out an old man dressed in a loose white robe."

"The old man stood with his hands clasped behind his back and his spine straight.

A faint ring of chaos-light lingered around him. His aura spread vast and heavy, deep as the sea, with no way to judge his exact cultivation level."

"He lightly held a white-jade fly-whisk in one hand.

Its snow-white strands hung soft and smooth, drifting gently in the murky fog. A mild, pure white glow shimmered over them, painfully clear within the gray, lifeless secret realm."

"He stood quietly in the center of the fog.

He did not move. He did not sway. He made no gesture at all.

Even so, an air of distance clung to him, as if he stood beyond the world and looked down over all living things without being touched by them."

When the three of them stood exactly ten yards from the old man in white, the phantom that had remained motionless and silent all this time suddenly opened his mouth.

"An aged voice rang out of nowhere inside the dead-still fog.

It was hoarse, gentle, and carried a faint remoteness worn down by endless years, yet it landed with perfect clarity in Master Wellspring’s ears."

"The tone was plain.

And still it seemed to have crossed countless ages, passing through life, death, and rebirth before arriving there."

“Master Wellspring, you finally came.”

"Seven simple characters.

No sharp killing intent. No crushing pressure.

Yet Master Wellspring’s whole body went rigid in an instant, and the blood in him almost stopped moving."

"His pupils tightened hard.

His heart clenched without warning, and beneath the surface of his mind, waves rose like a storm breaking open."

In that instant, his thoughts were swallowed whole by a blank, thunderous force that left him with no footing and no answer.

This person knew him?

"Master Wellspring remembered it with absolute clarity.

This was the first time in his life he had ever stepped into the Primordial Sanctuary. He had never before set foot on this land, and he had never seen the old man in white standing before him."

But the other side did more than recognize him. He had called out Master Wellspring's name with perfect accuracy, and the ease in his voice made it sound as though he had been waiting there for a very long time.

Questions surged up all at once, tangling over one another before any one of them could take shape. Master Wellspring forced that jagged pressure down, tightened his voice, and asked in a low tone, "Who are you?"

The white-robed phantom did not answer right away.

He moved with slow, graceful control, turning his body bit by bit.

The wide white robe swayed lightly with the motion. Its hem brushed through the murky fog without picking up so much as a speck of dust.

An aged, ancient-looking face slowly came into view before the three of them.

Fine wrinkles covered the old man's brows and eyes, and deep lines cut across his forehead. His white hair had been tied casually behind his head. The face was completely unfamiliar, and Master Wellspring was certain he had never seen this person before.

Yet for reasons he could not name, as he stared at that weathered face, something familiar rose from deep inside him. It felt close, almost personal, and still he could not place it.