The King Of Warriors novel (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 6403

"Jared's face showed nothing. He returned the sword to its sheath, and his body blurred into translucence again.

With the force of Space Law carrying him, he shifted away in an instant and headed for the next outpost."

The second outpost. The third. The fourth...

One outpost after another fell in succession.

Jared moved like a death god wandering through the darkness of Epea, crossing the 100 miles of wasteland between them.

His movement left no trace. Every strike he made ended a life.

Each swing of the sword was condensed and stripped down to its deadliest line, aimed straight at the vital point. Not half a measure of spiritual power was wasted, and not half a trace of aura leaked out.

With concealment no one could solve and a spatial art at his command, he slipped perfectly past all the wards and every patrol.

No matter how tight an outpost's defenses were, no matter how powerful its commander was, none of it amounted to resistance before Jared's chaos-wrought blade-flare.

Even celestial cultivators at True Immortal Realm Level Four and Level Five could not withstand that crushing nascence across cultivation levels, no matter how many of them there were.

Time crawled on. In less than the time it took an incense stick to burn, the twelve outer outposts encircling Mount Cinderfall were wiped out completely.

The 1.2 thousand fully armed, heavily guarded soldiers of the celestial garrison fell in silence, all of them erased without leaving a visible trace.

Jared's shadowing figure slowly appeared again and landed back in front of the allied host.

His robes were neat and spotless. Everything about him remained clean and sharp, without dust on the hem and without a single drop of blood on him.

It was as if the slaughter of more than 1 thousand had been nothing more than a small matter handled with a casual lift of the hand.

He raised a hand and took out twelve golden tokens carved with celestial sigils from his Storage Ring, then tossed them casually toward Nathaniel in front of him.

"The twelve ward-core tokens of the outposts. They control every Saintlight Defensive Array on the perimeter."

"With the tokens in hand, the outer wards of Ashenbrand Gaol will recognize us on their own. They won't attack us, and we'll be able to reach the prison's main gate without obstruction."

"Nathaniel reached out on instinct and caught the heavy golden tokens.

They were cold in his palm, and a dense celestial saintlight aura still lingered across their surfaces."

"He lowered his gaze to the twelve ward-tokens lying in his hands.

Then the weight of what had just happened pressed in: in less than the time it took an incense stick to burn, a thousand men had been killed to the last."

"His hands gave a faint, uncontrollable tremor.

Something vast rolled through him like a storm tide, and the look on his face stayed fixed for a long while, unable to settle back into calm."

"1.2 thousand regular celestial cultivators.

The twelve fortified outposts.

Layer after layer of wards, defense piled on defense."

"In Jared’s hands, all of it had failed to hold for even the span of one incense stick.

The force stationed there had been erased cleanly, from beginning to end without a sound, without a single loose end left behind."

"That had long since stopped being simple suppression through a gap in cultivation level.

It was a full-spectrum strike from above, crushing them through nascence force, Godric arts, and battle instinct all at once."

"Beside them, Elder Cillian’s gaze rested heavily on Jared.

The look in his eyes deepened, carrying more weight than before, as if every measure he had taken of Jared had just been forced higher."

When Elder Cillian finally spoke, his voice came slow, each word carrying open praise.

"Master Chance’s strength truly lives up to its name. You hide your depth well."

"With chaotic force reinforcing spatial arcana, your ability to assassinate, strike by surprise, and clear a field has reached a level beyond common understanding."

"No wonder you have been able to cripple the celestials again and again, and crush powerful enemies head-on."

Elder Cillian had seen enough to have the ground shift under every old estimate he carried.

"Jared gave a faint nod, offering no display and wasting no words.

His gaze moved toward the distant, towering crimson mass of Mount Cinderfall, and when he spoke, his voice had gone cold."

"The outer obstacles have all been swept clean, and the road ahead is open. The real bloodbath, the real powerful enemies, are still trapped inside Ashenbrand Gaol."

"The real show has only just begun."

As the last word fell, Jared stepped out first and moved steadily toward the searing foot of Mount Cinderfall.

"More than a thousand soldiers of the allied host followed close behind him.

Their steps stayed firm, killing intent rolling off them as they advanced one pace at a time into that deathtrap wrapped in flame."

The gates of Ashenbrand Gaol had already begun to open, slowly, through the color of blood.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify