A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6697

After flying for about four hours, Jared and the others spotted a small city ahead.

Starfall City.

It was not large. Its walls were built from blue-gray boulders and stood several dozen feet high.

Fine cracks and weathered scars covered the stone, proof that the walls had stood there for countless years.

Simple defensive arrays had been carved into them, but the sigils had long since dimmed. Only a few nodes still flickered now and then with faint light, like the eyelids of an old man struggling to stay open.

A battered sign hung above the gate with the words "Starfall City." The lettering had faded, and dust and moss filled the grooves of each stroke.

There were no guards at the gate and no inspection arrays.

People drifted in and out in twos and threes, their steps unhurried. At first glance, the place seemed almost careless.

Yet that very looseness hinted at a delicate balance.

The various factions in the little city appeared to have reached an unspoken understanding. Everyone kept to their own territory and avoided interfering with the others.

Jared led the other three through the gate, quietly sweeping his gaze along both sides of the street.

His eyes were as sharp as a hawk's, catching every detail beneath the city's outward calm.

Human cultivators made up roughly seventy percent of the population. They wore coarse robes in different colors. Some had artifacts at their waists, some carried baskets of herbs, and others haggled at street stalls. It looked much like any ordinary human city.

Celestial cultivators made up around twenty percent. They wore gold or silver-white robes with divine sigils embroidered at the cuffs. They walked ramrod straight, a faint arrogance in their eyes.

The rest were beast clan and scattered Demonic Cultivators.

The beast clan were powerfully built, some with visible ears or tails that made them stand out in the crowd.

Most of the Demonic Cultivators kept their heads down and moved quickly, doing everything they could to avoid attention.

Most cultivators in the city were between Level Six and Level Seven Golden Immortal. A few Level Eight experts appeared from time to time, but they were rare enough that every one of them drew sidelong glances.

"Quiet little city," Jared murmured, keeping his voice low enough that only the three beside him could hear. "Good place to stop for a while."

Master Veridian nodded as he studied the surroundings. His gaze was not as piercing as Jared's, but it carried the shrewdness of an old fox. "Maybe a little too quiet. Look at those people. The way they're watching us isn't right."

Jared had noticed it too.

The cultivators around them looked at the four newcomers with scrutiny and caution.

Their attention lingered especially on Gwendolyn and Master Veridian. Two Level Eight Golden Immortals entering a small city together were more than enough to draw notice.

Some people whispered among themselves. Others quietly slipped into alleys. A few watched with calculating eyes, clearly weighing something.

Jared ignored them.

He led the group farther into the city and eventually found an inn on a relatively secluded street.

It was a modest two-story building. The ground floor held a small common room with several rough wooden tables. Wooden utensil holders and coarse ceramic teapots sat on top.

Several cultivators were drinking tea in a corner. The moment Jared's group walked in, every pair of eyes swung toward them with faint wariness.

The innkeeper was an elderly human cultivator with graying hair and deep wrinkles that looked carved into his face with a knife.

He was a Level Six Golden Immortal, but his aura had grown murky with age. It was obvious that another breakthrough would be extremely difficult for him.

He quickly put on a welcoming smile when he saw guests, but the smile stiffened the moment his eyes passed over Gwendolyn and Master Veridian. A trace of nervousness flashed through his gaze.

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