A Man Like None Other (Jared Chance) novel Chapter 5745

A hive of ghost-face bees erupted next, spitting paralyzing barbs. Jared carved a corridor of flame, harvested royal jelly, and let the little creature lap up its sweet potency.

Finally, a phantom leopard—master of stealth and soul strikes—slipped from dream to daylight. After a grueling contest, Jared unleashed a wisp of Demon Seal Tower aura, stunned the predator, and slew it. Its condensed soul essence flowed into the unicorn, brightening the tiny beast like a lantern against the darkening woods.

Jared moved through the maze of trees with the poised grace of a master hunter, every step measured and sure. Seasoned instincts and deft command of Heavenly Law let him steer the black-furred giant ape, cutting down one savage beast after another.

Each fallen creature surrendered its core, blood, and soul-shards—perfect fuel for the small fire unicorn that rode beside him.

The little beast grew visibly after every feast.

Its body had broadened, crimson scales gleaming like fresh embers; liquid light coursed beneath them, and the fire it exhaled now burned hotter, tighter, almost brushing the threshold of the Human Immortal Realm.

It relished both battle and devouring, and its timing with Jared grew uncanny—warning of danger, slipping in to strike where his blade could not.

Jared himself, hammered by constant fighting and hurried self-healing, felt his wounds knit by degrees.

Control sharpened, adaptability flourished; the forest no longer felt alien but like a rough forge shaping him.

He was a young dragon who crashed into wild country, clawing open a path where peril and promise tangled like roots.

The giant ape carried Jared and the unicorn through a canopy so thick that daylight rarely touched the floor.

Trees swelled into ancient pillars, and the air grew so dense with spiritual mist it almost clung to the skin—beauty matched only by rising threat.

The soil there glimmered dark crimson, as though it had soaked in centuries of spilled blood.

From that eerie ground rose several plants—entirely blood-red, crystalline, caps tiered like clouds, oozing life essence and a sweet copper scent.

Even breathing the aroma made Jared's own blood hum and his injuries knit faster.

"Blood Ganoderma—ten thousand years old at the very least!"

Joy flashed through his eyes like lightning across midnight.

Such treasure could refine flesh, replenish blood, even mend the soul—rare in all level seven heavens, priceless to a wounded man and his fiery companion.