The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5833

Sheldon and the other sect members had long since scurried to the far edges of the battlefield. They watched, trembling, twin fires of dread and—yes—rising hope flickering in wide eyes.

Their lord appeared, unbelievably, to hold the upper hand.

Minute by minute, the weight on Jared's shoulders grew heavier, his breaths shorter, his swings a shade slower than the instant before.

Soul Devourer's cultivation ran deep as night. His demonic essence seemed bottomless, and his veteran cunning allowed him to spear through the tiniest gap whenever Jared shifted style.

Worse, every black-green ripple of the demonic technique carried a whispering soul attack that kept scratching at Jared's mind, dulling focus, bleeding will.

The very quality of that essence was poison—part devourer, part decay—chewing at Jared's chaotic celestial energy so that his losses dwarfed the enemy's.

The Chaotic True Flame burned hot and proud, but heat alone could not erase the cliff that lay between a peak Human Immortal and a peak Heavenly Immortal.

Between those two realms sprawled a gulf of essence, law, and sheer inevitability.

And Soul Devourer was no ordinary Heavenly Immortal. Once, he had stood on heights even loftier, wielding laws beyond level ten's peak—knowledge now turned, merciless, upon Jared.

Pfft—blood dotted the air as Jared faltered.

A swirl of Soul-Corroding Nether Wind scraped across his shoulder. The celestial light shield shattered; flesh blackened, rotting in plain sight, while a spear of icy soul energy knifed toward his mind.

He drove the chaotic celestial energy and Chaotic True Flame inward, purging the venom, pinning the invading soul energy, but the motion cost a heartbeat—and momentum.

"Hahaha! Feeling it now, boy?" Soul Devourer's laughter rang like chains across an iron floor.

Seizing the pause, he molded the totality of his demonic essence into one colossal palm—Soul-Devouring Oblivion Palm—then brought it crashing down toward Jared's skull.

I'm defeated?

Right now, I truly cannot match this old demon—not even while he remains half-recovered.

Soul Devourer drifted down from the sky, boots settling amid the wreckage. Above Jared's battered figure, twin crimson sparks flickered in his eyes—mocking, cruel, hungry.

"Well, whelp, do you still imagine you can kill me? Your fortunes, your inheritance—I find them intriguing. Hand them over, and I might let you die quickly."

Far off, Sheldon and the other cultists could no longer contain themselves; jubilation burst from their throats.

"All hail the lord—invincible! Kill him—avenge our fallen! Rip out his soul, steal his spirit!"

Jared pushed to his feet. He looked ragged, yet his spine remained unbowed.

He stared coldly at Soul Devourer and at the cheering lackeys beyond. Terror had no place in him—only an arctic killing intent and, deep beneath it, a spark of unbroken will to fight.

"Don't celebrate too soon, old demon. Today's humiliation is etched in my bones. When I break into the Heavenly Immortal Realm, I'll be back for your mangy life."