A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5874

Jared did not dodge, nor did he conjure the faintest shimmer of celestial light shield. He simply stood there, calm as a mountain amid thunder.

"Is he insane?!" someone in the crowd exclaimed, voice coated with pure disbelief.

A towering crimson fist—nothing but condensed flame and fury—plunged toward him, ready to land.

Jared lifted his right hand, spread his fingers, then closed them with almost lazy grace around the incoming mirage.

Pop.

The blow burst like a soap bubble.

An attack fierce enough to maim a Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Six cultivator unraveled three feet from his palm. The energy dissolved into raw fire spiritual energy, drifting away on the breeze.

Throughout the process, Jared's hand never once shook.

"W-What?" The young enforcer stammered as his eyes bulged.

Every spectator froze, statues carved from shock.

Jared had taken a Level Seven Combat Puppet's strike head-on, walked away unscathed, then crushed it like an eggshell.

What kind of a monster was he?

"Second strike!" The enforcer forced the words out, his voice trembling.

Red light flared hotter in the puppet's eyes. Both arms rose. Twin fists collided, spawning a spinning fireball nearly a foot across, its surface laced with crackling blue arcs—thirty percent stronger than before.

"Attack!"

The puppet shoved. The blazing orb screamed through the air, heat distorting the path it carved.

Despite that, Jared still did not move.

He did not even raise a hand.

With just a thought, golden light instantly enveloped his entire body, and Golem Body was activated.

Boom!

The fireball slammed into the golden veil, detonating in white glare and a crack loud enough to shake lungs.

When the smoke curled away, Jared remained exactly where he had started.

The golden film around him rippled once, whole and unscarred.

Even the flagstones beneath his boots lay uncracked—the barrier had swallowed every shred of force.

"Impossible..." someone whispered, as though watching their faith crumble to dust.

The words hung in the air while the crowd's certainty died, one heartbeat at a time.

"Third strike!" The young enforcer's voice cracked through the testing hall, raw with disbelief and the panic of a man watching the impossible unfold.

He stood there, lungs tight, mind blank, every scrap of composure scalded away by the spectacle before him.

Across the arena, the Combat Puppet's eyes blazed scarlet until they resembled twin suns about to burst. Its massive frame shuddered so violently that brass joints screeched, and a complicated array carved into its chest flared alive, siphoning every shred of fire-type spiritual energy from the air.

A deep, metallic hum rolled outward, vibrating through the stone floor and rattling ribs.

Above the puppet's steel skull, a colossal greatsword of pure crimson flame coalesced inch by inch, each ember locking into place as though hammered by an invisible smith.

Three stories tall, the blade writhed with red dragon phantoms that hissed around its edge, radiating a heat so savage it seemed to blister the soul and a sword aura sharp enough to flense bone.

This was the Level Seven Combat Puppet's ultimate technique—Flame Dragon Slash.

Witnesses whispered that a full-force blow from it rivaled the strike of a Top Level Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Seven cultivator.

"Slash!"

The puppet brought both arms down. The flaming greatsword crashed toward Jared, promising to cleave heaven, earth, and every fragile thing between.

Even seasoned cultivators at Heavenly Immortal Realm Level Five and Level Six staggered back, chests tight, breaths stolen by the pressure that poured from the descending blade.

Only then did Jared move.

He lifted his left hand, pressed his index and middle fingers together, and raised them toward the falling inferno as though about to pluck a stray thread.

Yes—he meant to pinch a flaming sword the height of a house with just two fingers.

Around the arena, gasps turned to horrified silence. To every onlooker, the gesture looked like nothing short of suicidal.

And yet—

Ding!

Crack!

Boom!

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