The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5838

"Not good!" Soul Devourer's pupils contracted sharply. Hastily, he formed layer upon layer of shields and protective soul barriers.

Boom!

Jared's fist slammed into the shield.

Layer after layer of the shield shattered. The soul light rippled violently. The old demon let out a muffled grunt, his body flying back hundreds of yards before he barely stabilized. A streak of black blood ran from his mouth, and his aura wavered in subtle disorder.

The look he gave Jared was a mixture of utter shock, deep caution, and a trace of fear he could hardly name.

This kid... after breaking through the Heavenly Immortal realm, how could his power surge so drastically?

The force within that punch alone subtly threatened his current state. And that ancient, noble bloodline pressure made him profoundly uncomfortable.

Jared slowly rose from the crater. Most of his injuries had already healed. Beneath his shredded robes, fresh, pale skin shimmered, faint dragon-scale patterns interlaced with the glow of the Chaotic True Flame

He moved his neck with a soft crack, and his golden vertical pupils locked coldly on Soul Devourer.

"Old demon... Now, it's my turn."

His words were calm, but carried a murderous intent and confidence colder than ever before.

Soul Devourer's face darkened.

He gauged Jared's rapidly stabilizing and rising aura, feeling the subtle tremor in his own demonic energy and soul—the faint shiver triggered by the young man's dragon bloodline.

Should I continue fighting?

In his current state, against a newly-broken-through, momentum-filled Chen Ping, who wielded strange dragon might and Chaos Flame, victory was uncertain—he could even lose outright.

He was Soul Devourer, an ancient demon who had survived countless millennia. Calculating risks and seizing opportunities was second nature.

"Kid, you're lucky."

Through gritted teeth, the old demon spat out the words, eyes filled with resentment and malice. "I didn't expect you to possess such a bloodline... and to break through mid-battle. I'll remember this humiliation today!"

He spun sharply, bellowing at the others in the distance, "Retreat! Everyone, fall back into the depths of the headquarters! Activate the final defenses!"

Without another moment's hesitation, he became a black shadow and tore through space, vanishing into level eleven.

He had chosen to retreat decisively, temporarily avoiding the clash. Clearly, he realized that on level ten, facing a newly broken-through, momentum-filled Jared, he could not guarantee victory. It was safer to regroup in a more resource-rich, higher-level world, recover fully—and return later to exact revenge.

Jared watched Soul Devourer vanish. He didn't immediately pursue. Having just broken through, his realm still needed stabilization, and his strength needed time to adapt. Chasing blindly into level eleven would be unwise.

His gaze slowly swept over the other disciples of the Infinite Soul Demon Sect below, now in chaos and despair after the master's retreat.

When the last gem vanished into silver light he lifted his gaze to the horizon.

Reiner had long since vanished, his blazing sword-arc nothing but memory. Somewhere among distant heavens, Lucas and Flegel still clashed, their duel spilling into other realms—outcomes unknown, destinies unresolved.

Grudges that had poisoned level ten were, for the moment, extinguished. Yet danger never sleeps. The Soul Devourer had slipped away toward level eleven, its shadow already rising as Jared's next quarry.

He drew a deep breath. New power—pure, incandescent power of the Heavenly Immortal Realm—roared through his veins. Determination flashed in his eyes like flint against steel.

"Level eleven... Soul Devourer... Chaotic Origin Flame... I'm coming for you." Jared's voice was low, but it carried the weight of prophecy.

A dragon wrought of raw chaos unfurled around him. In a single thunderous heartbeat, he launched skyward, the draconic silhouette tearing through the cloudline and vanishing beyond level ten's rim.

He would need a place of perfect solitude—somewhere to lock this newborn strength into bone and marrow, absorb the spoils he carried, and chart a path toward realms larger, higher, and infinitely more perilous.

Moments after Jared's departure, another figure stepped onto the scorched battlefield, cloak snapping in the heat-warped air.

"Strange... His aura led me here, yet he's gone."

He surveyed the ruins—brows drawn into a faint crease—then turned. Weathered features caught the dying firelight: it was indeed the Vermilion Demon Lord, a legend who rarely left his own dominion.

He had crossed level ten in pursuit of Jared, tracked the young Immortal's energy to this very spot, only to arrive seconds too late.