A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5773

Arden flushed crimson and bowed low. "You're amazing! I'm utterly convinced!"

Jared smiled lightly. "That was only a warm-up. Next, let's pay their herb garden a visit."

The triumph at Blackflame Gorge had done more than wound the enemy. It had ignited a fierce confidence that blazed through the Myriad Beast Sect, turning every patrol into a spear and every scout into wildfire.

After a brief pause to regroup and sift through fresh intelligence, Jared chose his next target: the Wraith Herb Garden, a critical supply hub buried deep in the Blood-scar Plains and guarded by three Heavenly-Immortal elders.

Unlike ordinary greenhouses, this shadowed nursery cultivated sinister flora—demonic herbs that sprouted only when nourished by swirling miasmas of resentment and the chill of unquiet souls.

Those herbs were the lifeblood of the Myriad Souls Demon Sect, distilled into pills that amplified soul-force and refined dark arts—a resource even more vital than the items Jared had stolen at Blackflame Gorge.

Determined to sever that artery, Jared drafted a plan with the precision of a surgeon. First, he ordered the Myriad Beast Sect to intensify raids on the plains opposite the garden, faking preparations for a massive assault. The ruse worked; nervous commanders of the Infinite Soul Demon Sect pulled eyes and strength eastward, leaving the garden's western flank thinner than it had been in decades.

Next, Jared chose the night of a full moon. Moonlight, at its zenith, poured silver pressure that muted the corrosive aura clinging to the garden's plants—and its silvery glare would cloak his own movements.

Deep within a gorge forever drowned in ashen fog, cold winds wailed like orphaned choirs. Spectral silhouettes drifted between warped trees, their translucent fingers brushing cages of iron where rarer seedlings pulsed with malignant light.

A grand array blanketed the valley, runes shimmering like chains beneath the haze. Patrol squads—each stronger than any Jared had met at Blackflame Gorge—threaded the mist while hidden sentries watched from jagged cliffs. Worst of all, the three resident elders stretched their spiritual senses across the garden like a spider's web, touching every leaf and pebble, poised to twitch at the faintest disturbance.

Hidden among black-barked pines outside the gorge, Jared lay motionless, observing. He knew that simply smashing through—or sowing random chaos—would be unwise.

The formation is sturdier, the watch tighter, their senses overlapping—no blind spots at all...

A slight frown creased his brow, but then he brushed a hand over the tiny fire-unicorn perched on his shoulder, and mischief lit his eyes. "Little one, tonight's stage belongs to you."

Boom!

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify