A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6529

One disciple of Pole Star Hall dragged himself toward his companions on the stumps of legs severed by flying swords, scraping his fingertips down to white bone against the flagstones.

He didn't even make it halfway.

An arrow from nowhere punched through the back of his neck, his body jerked twice, and then he went still.

But Pole Star Hall still hadn't collapsed.

Anyone who had survived this long was one of Pole Star Hall's finest disciples, each of them a high-ranking True Immortal cultivator tempered in blood and fire.

Their eyes were full of fear, but the fear hadn't broken their will to fight.

Because they knew Starwick was still standing. Their Hall Master was still fighting.

As long as their Hall Master remained on the field, Pole Star Hall had not lost.

Starwick swept his gaze over the battlefield.

The square was carpeted with corpses. What remained of his formation had been compressed to the breaking point. On three sides, Beastmoor Ridge had sealed him in behind walls of steel.

With every breath, another person fell.

With every breath, the noose pulled tighter.

Then he looked to both flanks.

Glacier’s chariot had not moved an inch. Clarendon’s sacred dais still hung in the air.

The two of them only watched.

They watched his disciples get butchered. They watched his war-chariot smashed apart.

There was no pity in their eyes. No hesitation.

Only cold calculation.

Glacier even lifted a cup of spirit tea and took a slow, unhurried sip.

The teacup had been carved from age-old black ice, its outer wall beaded with tiny droplets that glittered in the sun.

Each droplet looked like a tiny eye, reflecting the slaughter in the square.

Reflecting his indifference too.

"Glacier... Clarendon..." Starwick ground his teeth so hard they creaked, then suddenly threw back his head and laughed.

The sound was wild, broken, full of despair. "Good. Very good. You want me dead? Then I refuse to die. If I’m going down, neither of you will walk away clean!"

He bit through the tip of his tongue and spat out a mouthful of golden blood essence.

It burst into a cloud of blood mist and stained his golden spear from end to end a dark, muted gold.

The spear started shaking violently, giving off a shrill hum.

Every war sigil along the shaft flared to life under the blood essence, blazing with a radiance fiercer than the sun.

His eyes turned blood-red.

Golden veins rose beneath his skin, and the blood racing through them looked like boiling magma, shining through hard enough to cast his face in the likeness of a wrathful guardian.

"Pole Star Hall disciples, hear my command!"

His voice came out hoarse and crazed, yet it still crashed against every ear like muffled thunder.

"Today we fight to the death! I stand with you! Kill one and you break even—kill two and you profit! Let these beast-race bastards learn this well: disciples of Pole Star Hall die on their feet, not on their knees!"

Before the last word finished ringing out, his pressure spiked.

By burning his blood essence, he forced his cultivation from the peak of Golden Immortal Level Three into Golden Immortal Level Four.

The rise was only temporary, but the violent holy radiance pouring off him blazed like a fallen sun and swallowed the entire square.

Under that crushing pressure, the flagstones split into webs of fractures that spread for hundreds of yards.

Every cultivator below True Immortal Realm Level Nine felt their breathing seize up.

Those with weaker cultivation dropped to their knees on the spot, blood threading from their ears and noses.

"Burning blood essence?" Master Wellspring’s face changed instantly. "Starwick’s gone mad! Once he burns through it all, his cultivation will drop an entire major realm!"

"He never planned to make it back alive," Cloudspire said grimly.

His sword-craft never stopped moving, but the look on his face had turned dangerously serious. "He means to take us down with him."

At the edge of annihilation, the shattered remnants of Pole Star Hall found one last thing to hold on to.

Their Hall Master was burning his blood essence and throwing his life at the enemy.

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