The Man's Decree (Favo novel) novel Chapter 5727

Jared nodded, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Excellent. My sweep through the Ninefold Heaven to gather those materials was not in vain."

Before the last syllable faded, Jared's storage ring pulsed. A blur of silver darted out—the little celestial devourer—chirping with eagerness. At the sight of the Vermilion Demon Lord, the tiny beast scrambled forward and licked the demon lord's palms, tail quivering.

Vermilion Demon Lord knelt, roughened fingers stroking the creature's soft fur while guilt clouded his gaze. His former mount, an elder devourer, had fallen in battle, yet in its final heartbeat had left behind a single egg.

Now, its hatchling nuzzled against him, already recognizing its master. The circle—loss giving birth to hope—closed silently around them.

"Now that my strength is restored," the Vermilion Demon Lord said quietly, "let us end our grudge with the Myriad Arts Sect."

Jared blinked, surprised. He had never expected the once-ruthless demon lord to speak of mercy.

A playful smile tugged at Jared's mouth. "Mercy? That doesn't sound like the Vermilion Demon Lord I know."

Vermilion Demon Lord rolled his eyes. "Blame yourself—I've spent too long in your company, and your contagion is clearly spreading."

Laughter burst from them at the same instant—two voices, one bright, one dark, rolling together through the broken sky until even the shattered stones seemed to tremble at their shared, unrestrained joy.

"Coall, pull the troops back—now."

Jared's voice cut through the din like a blade, steady and unquestionable, the single syllable carrying the weight of thunder across the battlefield.

At that command, the entire Draconian army wheeled as one living torrent of bronze-scaled muscle and burning eyes, streaming after Jared as he lifted into the darkening sky.

The Myriad Arts Sect survived the clash with little true damage—only the sting of wounded pride echoed through its shattered courtyards and smoking parapets.

"Need me to hunt down that Soul Devourer for you?"

The Vermilion Demon Lord's tone was almost casual, yet embers of battlelust still flickered behind his crimson pupils.

He posed the question once the two of them had left the sect's ruined gates, the distant roar of retreat fading into the hush of broken stone.

"No. Right now, I feel absurdly unstoppable. Go find your little beloved instead." Jared's reply came with a light, almost teasing smile, as if impossible strength were nothing more than a pleasant secret he had just discovered.

That smile lingered on his lips—soft, knowing, impossible to decipher.

He understood all too well how the Vermilion Demon Lord's heart still circled the thought of Selene like a lonely planet refusing to abandon its dying sun.

The Vermilion Demon Lord's answering grin twisted into a rueful curve, half warmth, half pain.

"If you truly have no need of me, I'll keep watch over Leenie's crystal coffin. I'll find a way—whatever it takes—to breathe life back into her. Stay alive, Jared. Should the Ninefold Heaven ever demand my strength, send word and I'll be there."

With one last reluctant glance, the scarlet figure dissolved into motes of ember-red light and vanished beyond the horizon's veil.

The Demon Seal Tower, the Dragonslayer Sword, and the Golden Tome meshed ever more seamlessly with his very soul, as though forged for him alone at the dawn of creation.

Then, one dawn, Jared stood upon the apex of the sect's front plaza, high above all banners and spires, cloak snapping like thunder in the newborn wind.

Below him stretched a sea of obsidian-scaled Draconian soldiers and envoys from every newly-subdued faction—dark, dense, innumerable—tens of thousands gathered in serried ranks awaiting the decree of their chosen sovereign.

Every throat tightened at once. An ocean of cultivators—saints, sect masters, foot soldiers alike—stood motionless beneath the dais, their reverence so intense it bordered on delirium as they fixed their eyes on the lone figure in indigo robes who ruled the platform.

Jared let his gaze sweep across the crowd like a slow—almost merciful—blade. His voice remained calm, yet the authority packed into each measured syllable pressed into every heart below as clearly as if he whispered directly beside each ear.

From this moment forward, the Ninefold Heaven shall answer to me—Jared Chance—alone. Here we raise a new Gate of Heaven. It will stand on this very summit and watch over every realm below. Sylvia will serve as its master.

"Those who honor my decree shall find shelter beneath my wings, inheritance for their line, and an age of peace. Those who resist will taste the Draconian army's iron hooves. Wherever they march, the soil itself will smolder. So let this law be obeyed!"

A roar exploded—mountains answered, seas rolled, and thunder seemed to birth itself inside the clouds as a single phrase of assent raced across the entire Ninefold Heaven.

With that cry an era died and another was born. The Ninefold Heaven, fractured for ages, welcomed its first undisputed sovereign—Jared Chance.

"Time to erase the Soul Devourer, utterly and forever." Jared's words cracked like flint, sparks of battle-lust flashing in his eyes.

He had just bent an entire sky to his will—what threat could one lurking fiend possibly pose? In the fierce swell of Jared's confidence, it seemed he could crush the Soul Devourer with a single, contemptuous hand.