The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6636

Violet light broke through the place where the ax-light had disappeared.

Harlan's sneer had not yet turned into fear when the sword-light crossed him from crown to chest.

The leader of the Ironblood Mercenary Company split open down the middle.

Blood sprayed across the floor.

Harlan Ironhall, a Golden Immortal Level Six cultivator, failed to take even one strike from Jared.

Dead.

Harlan had already been drained by the earlier battle, but the ease of his death still stunned everyone.

Byron Cloudmere reacted first.

He threw away the remains of his folding fan and ran, forcing what little spiritual power he had left toward the cave entrance.

He moved quickly.

Jared's sword moved faster.

A violet arc caught Bryon from behind and split him together with his robe. His body dropped near the sloped stone pile by the exit.

Blackwolf and Emberhawk fled in opposite directions.

Jared kicked a piece of rubble underfoot and used the rebound to cross the cavern. Violet sword-light flashed left and right.

One stroke dropped Blackwolf.

The next dropped Emberhawk.

Four strikes.

Four leaders.

Less than ten seconds.

The wounded cultivators who had helped surround him broke completely. Some threw down their weapons and slammed their heads against the ground in surrender. Some clawed and crawled toward the exit. Others collapsed by the wall, begging through tears.

Jared looked over the people kneeling in front of him.

His black eyes were empty of pity.

"Leave."

His voice was calm.

The survivors scrambled away as if they had been pardoned by heaven. They rolled, crawled, and dragged themselves toward the tunnel.

In under ten minutes, only Jared, Gwendolyn, Rowan, the nine cultivators, and a floor of corpses remained in the cavern.

Rowan stared at the bodies.

He remembered the greed on Harlan, Bryon, Blackwolf, and Emberhawk's faces when they had surrounded them.

These people used to call the shots in Bermu City. People feared them. People obeyed them.

Now their blood ran through the cracks in the stone and into the low pits full of beast bones.

"Mr. Chance..."

His voice still trembled, but now it shook from awe instead of fear. "They all carried Storage Rings and storage pouches. The leaders and elites of the Ironblood Mercenary Company, Cloudflight Pavilion, the Graywolf Gang, and Blazefire Sect brought their wealth with them. This is worth at least a million high-grade crystals."

Jared wiped the remaining black blood from the Dragonslayer Sword.

"Take it all," he said evenly. "They carried their fortunes here themselves. That saves us the trouble."

"Yes!"

Rowan nodded hard.

He led the nine cultivators through the cavern, collecting rings and pouches before returning to the demon hound king's corpse.

They stripped the body down completely.

The demon hound king was much larger than an ordinary demon hound. Just peeling off the hide took almost an hour.

Once removed, the hide covered the ground like the floor of a room. Its black fur was smooth as satin and gave off a cold sheen in the dim cave.

"Mr. Chance, the hide is perfect."

Excitement filled Rowan's voice. "A Golden Immortal Level Seven demon beast hide would sell for at least two hundred thousand high-grade crystals in Bermu City. With the right buyer, maybe three hundred thousand."

The last light of sunset spread across the wasteland, turning everything a deep, dull red, as if the land had been soaked in blood.

They traveled through the dusk toward Clearwind Village.

After about an hour, Rowan finally spoke.

"Mr. Chance, there is something I am worried about."

Concern weighed down his voice.

"Say it," Jared replied.

"You killed Harlan Ironhall, Byron Cloudmere, Blackwolf, and Emberhawk today. They were the leaders of the Ironblood Mercenary Company, Cloudflight Pavilion, the Graywolf Gang, and Blazefire Sect. Those forces have been rooted in Bermu City for hundreds of years. Their leaders are dead, but their people are not. If they join together for revenge..."

He stopped there.

His meaning was already clear.

He was not worried for himself.

He was worried for Clearwind Village.

Clearwind had only a few hundred households. Their strongest fighter, Chief Alden Farrow, was only Golden Immortal Level Six. The village could not withstand those powers.

Jared stopped and turned to Rowan.

His black eyes looked especially deep in the falling dusk.

"Do you think they can unite?"

Rowan paused. "Would they not?"

"Before today, how did the Ironblood Mercenary Company, Cloudflight Pavilion, the Graywolf Gang, and Blazefire Sect get along?"

Rowan thought for a moment. "Badly. They fought over territory and business all the time. The Ironblood Mercenary Company and the Graywolf Gang clashed more than once. People died."

"Then you have your answer."

Jared's voice stayed even. "Four forces that hated one another yesterday will not suddenly become one family because their leaders died. Their first thought will not be revenge. It will be power.

"Who takes the Ironblood seat? Who becomes pavilion master? Who controls the gangs and sects? They will tear at one another over that before they think of anything else. By the time their internal fights end, how many of them will still care about avenging the dead?"