A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5722

"They shall receive no mercy. Their lines will be wiped out, their halls ground to dust, their treasures seized. Ninefold Heaven has limped along without order long enough. Obey and flourish. Bend or perish."

Roar!

Hundreds of dragons answered, their chorus a gale that cracked distant peaks. Dragon's power rolled out in waves, thick with killing intent, declaring to every horizon that a new sovereign had risen.

Coall trembled, every scale on his body quivering in elation. In that instant, he grasped the breadth of Jared's design.

This was more than vengeance, more than a hunt for rare herbs. It was a tide meant to sweep across Ninefold Heaven. The entire Ninefold Heaven would soon bow beneath Jared's will.

"Yes, Mr. Chance! Let me lead the vanguard—I will crush every obstacle in your path!"

Coall's voice boomed like a war drum, and flames of fervor blazed inside his golden eyes.

Jared dipped his chin once, the gesture colder—and firmer—than forged iron.

He had never lusted for a throne. Yet the hour had come, and circumstance itself shoved a crown of storm clouds onto his brow.

Hidden somewhere in the dark was Soul Devourer, forever scheming.

The Draconian army under Jared's banner devoured resources at a terrifying rate, the Vermilion Demon Lord still needed a new body of physical body, and Sylvia's shattered Heaven Gate Sect cried out to be rebuilt.

Every promise, every debt, every lingering threat pointed to a single answer—overwhelming power held in a single, unbreakable fist.

So Jared stopped pretending to be polite. He would seize the entire Ninefold Heaven and make it his personal war chest. Only then, when he finally left this lower world for realms even higher, would the empire in his wake be sealed tight like an iron fortress.

Half a day later, the Draconian army had finished licking its wounds. Fresh bloodlust crackled around the ranks as they lifted off, hauling the mountains of loot pillaged from Skyfiend Sect.

This time, their target was not a single enemy. Their orders were simple. Every sect in the Ninefold Heaven that possessed even a drop of nascence soul liquid materials would submit—or burn.

Jared stood on the foremost dragon's massive head, a slip in hand, listing every ingredient they needed. Eyes narrowed, he surveyed the rivers and ridges sliding beneath like a chessboard already lost.

The first stop lay just ahead—Netherfrost Sect, famed for the thousand-year Nether Flower that bloomed in its glacial tarns.

The sect occupied an enormous, mist-shrouded lake whose ink-black waters exhaled hoarfrost. Every disciple practiced arts steeped in venomous cold.

Crack!

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