A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5846

He merely lifted his right index finger and tapped the air toward the nearest pillar. A mote of swirling, chaotic light bloomed at his fingertip—no larger than a grain of rice yet carrying the hush of galaxies being born and dying.

The mote blossomed without thunder, without glare. From Jared's finger, a silent ripple rolled outward, invisible but absolute, sweeping through every shard of ice and every line of rune.

Crack...

The sound of shattering glass flooded the night, sharp enough to make people wince.

Spider-web fissures raced across the rune-laden columns. In the space of a blink, they riddled each pillar from base to crown.

With one cavernous roar, all five collapsed at once, exploding into glittering powder that drifted like cruel snow.

The five warriors anchoring the array spat arcs of blood, their complexions draining to parchment white. The backlash of the broken formation tore through their cores and left fear naked in their eyes.

"Impossible! The Mystic Ice Dragon Binding Array can detain a Level Six Heavenly Immortal for minutes—" the ax-wielding captain screamed, his voice cracking mid-protest.

Jared answered only with an indifferent look. Two fingers slid together in the air, sketching five strokes too swift for mortal sight.

Invisible sword intent flashed. The warriors felt a sudden chill at their throats—then the world spun.

They watched their own headless bodies sway, blood freezing into scarlet icicles before it could spray. Consciousness fled into a darkness deeper than winter.

Jared never paused. He turned, stepped once, and reappeared three thousand meters ahead. Two more strides carried him to the Vermilion Demon Lord and Clara.

From halting his stride to erasing five lives to vanishing again, the entire exchange lasted no more than three breaths.

"Keep moving." Jared's tone did not ripple. To him, the blood he had just shed mattered no more than the smears a man wipes away after swatting flies.

As the three pressed deeper, the world around them deteriorated—air thinned, light waned, and the cold dug in like iron claws against naked bone.

A ragged ice fissure suddenly yawned ahead. Its chasm ran so deep that the bottom lay beyond imagination. Knife-sheared walls rose on either side, the corridor scarcely thirty feet wide—a single, merciless throat leading to the heart of the frozen plains.

"Sir, the landscape is dangerous. Perfect for an ambush," Clara murmured, unease coiling behind her measured voice.

Sword hand steady, she combed the glittering walls with her spirit-sense, inch by frigid inch, unwilling to let even a snowflake hide a threat.

Jared nodded. His eyes flashed golden, and he swept the canyon with that draconic sight.

In that vision, pulses of hidden power blazed like fireflies in pitch darkness—twelve distinct flares buried inside the walls.

Each spark masked a celestial warrior: the weakest hovered at Heavenly Immortal Realm, Level Four; the strongest, two of them, burned at Level Six.

Those killers had merged with the ice itself—their heartbeats, breaths, even their auras thinned to threads, proof of assassins born to silence.

Beneath the ice at both mouth and exit of the gorge slept three chained arrays, linked to detonate in hungry succession.

One wrong step would unleash a storm fierce enough to cripple even a sixth-tier Heavenly Immortal.

"Twelve hidden fighters, three Ice Explosion Arrays," Jared reported, voice still calm.

"Two at Level Six, four at Level Five, six at Level Four—stronger than the last squad we met," he added, almost conversational.

Beside him, the Vermilion Demon Lord inhaled sharply, the sound frosting in the air.

A formation like this—paired with such terrain—could bury even a Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Eight master who slipped once.

Clara tightened her grip on the hilt, silently bracing for the battle certain to erupt.

"Stay within ten feet of me," Jared instructed, then strode into the gorge without hesitation.

His boot kissed ice—and the sleepers awoke.

No warning, no war-cry—just raw murderous intent ripping open the hush.

The air itself screamed as weapons tore free.

Twelve glacial silhouettes burst from the walls, moving so fast that their after-images hung behind like ghostly banners.

Boom!

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